Weather Poem
And then, it recedes
into a rain
Intent, thick, swollen, sick.
Screaming against the skylights, shields,
asphalt and
drowning worms.
Poetry
poetry I’ve written
And still the dog barks
I don’t know how to respond
to this compliment
which I wrangle into place
by surrounding it
by self-deprecation,
direct their view to the rest of my body governing
these wee, elfin, gnomish hands,
these tiny, childlike empress
earlobes, these miniaturized, precious
bitty feets
being elephantine.
Sluggish. Immorally decadent, extruded
ill-formed
and an asymmetric center askew
from its poles.
Avast
There were epics in which I never uncovered my face,
though I saved you
from the cannibals desirous
of your scalp,
from the Lorelai,
from the mirages in the desert that sung your true name.
Love Myth
We clap out a reveille and sing
against each other
against the braise of the road,
like we are a constant twenty-one
gun salute praising prairie
grass, dogs, and fire.
Delphi
How you strain to find the swiftness
to catch me.
How I struggle for the stillness
to be caught.
Two Cakes a Wrapper
ramen noodles require a microwave
you steal twinkies instead,
thinking how lil’ debbie wants
to
insinuate
that you are a ding dong,
a ho ho,
or a molten, indigestible square of the Devil
Vein
This is my monster finding its port, this is the siphoning, the spinning that brings revelation.
Cricket
The trains are running cargo. They are far off in the distance, but you can hear the Ferdinand in their charging horns riding the ambient…