Sea twice as un- inhabitable / green and steep w/ tea. Tags it and clipped tones / the moon’s deli- cate reflect activity. Fish horizon stipples / apply them selves, about face and smear See, he says, bones to pick. At 2 oclock, a clip- per gist forms white / a little “l” out. He says …
Tag: Love Poems
Guy with a Conductor Hat
It girl like a mouse to me, hulking, gutsome verdict: sum swelling scales hear me kiss big the bellies of my families below triumphant ‘heretofore’ -looking. \\ wear me tight pants where going can tell the future sex of her mousewhite lob iamb even when off (the lights are when not, I don’t) mine balcony …
The right is so long
come more rings the bees blue/reflective barely sees these pews tussle
7 day garden
the light is plaid windowthing a flare sitting on my head a little duende / weeds almost touching riverend to end / ‘our boat’ is no, we paid for the time entirely bob- bing wooden nose, aft, never do we dance, growing upended rosemary / thyme in corn cans, bean cans, green wire, orange and dull pots, as …
HowRU&YRU
How are you my love & why my love are you ripped in the apartment wall my love my sat./sun. as in whiteface whirs hey my whole hey chickening at the blue pool bottom kissing really in love with legs this leggy velor love in eukaryote Samsonite in haute algae skirts in leather necklaces my …
New York Poem
1. He does not want to call or say anything so I said I miss you and I do wish you would. 2. They said maybe saying “please call” would help. Doesn’t. Certainly he is not inclined to speak, nor does he wish me to speak or to let my desire be known. He wishes …
Love Prayer
I love the deer and the desert. I love the first part of Medea, the sea. I love calling a poem “the porpoise”. I love eating good salad, both idea and activity, and thinking about it as in I’m describing to someone this salad. I love the perfect shape, parallelogram, because it is the only …
Someone Has to Know – For Marina
O mister darcy, master of silence, my mist- er in the middle of my middle age I say darcy and you say nothing in the midst of your house, your linens, china and statuettes on the table of my conceits of my rank and winsome mouth O darcy all wither misters ere or ire, o …
on the sea speech
This long line I am in is drawn from the motion of others. It makes us bend in together like next/nest. Draws us out like tubes. I sense the displacement of others bodies in scenes upon this water, where squares of yellowy grass lie, where dimly we seek and seek. I wag the sea for …
Star of David
1. the lights are off the lights pass thru your paper curtains your back arms and the lights are & are on your one hip & I am eighteen & then I am one un-harried by the passing of these things thru the bed & the wall like lisps, etc. 2. Star of the new …
love poem
sitting in this hammock is a harmonica if you please get me a decanter
Love Poem
We covered the field, one night happening stormy and suprisingly lit, with what you asked and I told you how something shimmers in terms of our walking into it, or walking itself, which is to luminous greenhouses. That sync, whether I weilded a dog and you a frondy sweeper or visa-versa, we were keeping in …
Break Day
Got blood sluiced to my trousers and kiss him ends of genetic sequences like I was born this way. My body twisted together and my hair oh that’s the top of it. Made me promise not to fly out the faggoty window. One bum asking if I’m a priest the way I work my coat …
Dialong
She is like plaque, that is what you say to her. Her face obscured; hair over her eyes and cheeks, her hands. Yellow hair over the white cuffs she is wearing even to the bed. Her life is a mess and though plaque badly describes it, she understands what you mean. So go on. There …
wait
Go long you say while we lay in bed. Begging, in some sense. Things like our bed have hair— rolled into your fingers into a ball. We are classic. In some sense, naked. A bowl of fruit on the floor, torn tickets I jot somethings on, We listen to Dylan. Claudia’s pink jaw gleams, she …
Primary Love Poem
I push my nose to your hand like a bud believing you are a caper, rock star, that you have circular glasses like Freud Derrida “dies” and you were by There flexes in the back room this dark under a dress we slap the cow with the back of a shoe, sleep on top of …
My handsome stranger
is oh, calling. Long lashes, wingtips, can I say it? That I’m bearly 24, there is a patient, there are seasons ripping into eachother, a cat on my foot, good cat, I have a secret in me it’s this right here. I talked to jimmy today about life in the general. It felt good to …
Pantoun #1
It’s Monday. Let’s go to Paris. My tongue Hands and Hair are Dying for Paris. Spread my Hands and Hair On the Bed Spread Me nearly Flat– Like a Map of the Bed (You tourist). Monsieur Flat– terer. Hand me the fleur. & Do Take that tour of yours to the Ground. My dumb tongue. …