the highest point on the plane which is the absolute

Last Lapse

Continuation. The hook and tongue of day. The waggedy that.  Lapse, clasp. The lace of days in utter continuation. The smalls and mediums and larges. Largess. Pants around my mother’s ankles while trying it on. The grooves in love like a golf ball.  As it resists its own specificity. As it becomes crocodilian,  recording it …

Getting ready for round 3

Paul’s Birthday

Paul’s 30th Birthday was definitely a marathon event consisting of dinner/movie, a craw-fish extravaganza, some “goat time” with the newest member of the Klinger family, a sushi dinner and two-stepping. My newly-lasiked eyes were not-a-little tired after all these festivities.

Mexico City

One of my favorite trips of all time was our jaunt down to Mexico City. I wish I had pictures of the subway on those massive tires and the hostel peeps we met and the anthropological museum. I also wish I had one of that bigass ear of corn I ate one night. But alas, …

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 …

Letter to Paul

I found your nose in my chicken pie, and lightly sent you smoke and glassy pans and things to bake clay on. No you don’t. I’m a terrible badger of late, making bad on my lightness, my room of books, ashtrays, the precise way I move here and steer the garbage into corners. The foundations …

you like I letter

slung with slant news; some bells attached to trees smartly knotted betwix sturdy hairs of Bentgrass, St. Augustine, Zoysia, and Throw Rug Green seen some distance up, as from a plane, the way you will be going December 28th. I say I’m fine, sans severance, the tall columns of lofty hotel lightness. It’s bulldozer cold …

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 …