Tuesday, October 2, 2018

Paint Makes the Man

comes when a man’s reason is away
full about these clothes and
to entomb itself
superiority on its part perhaps
paint makes the man     and that’s all
it was as if     there on display
group or a whole country’s horizons

 found a nail that long on the stairway
 found rain on the skylight an entire mist
 fill em up here surprise that there was
 a pill when opened december already
 grand lit square of sandstone downtown’s river drifting in
 contraband bite accompanied by dunes     settlers

from Cyclone Fence (2017)

Friday, September 14, 2018


        w        it 
 w        here
 in        mym        outh?
 the       ni’ll
 tilif        indy        ou
 myear        y

from Cyclone Fence (2007)

Saturday, September 1, 2018

Heat of the Meeting

i was burning the globe of the identical
slow liquid eye
but it generates smoke though it's hard to believe

this flow drawn
eros and thanatos
also freely

and love like a second thought
i can hear breath
in this warm        that heat
and in hell
and yet when you draw back
nineteen forever
i feel the coolness

rocketing like generals        nuclear cephalus
this is not the last look possible
if that kind of love
in the slow        could you not want it warmer
want the heat of that meeting
this comfort only once?

from Cyclone Fence (2007)

Friday, July 6, 2018


they build themselves in your finger
if your knees work      rips      the lizard is waiting
to a seaside dream
that were halved by half ready:
 you don't remember eyes and
 you don't remember shrieks
 too dry for a fever
 i was supposed to basketball
 as you walked down to mandalay
dead gangsters' hearts right inside your pantsleg
you're not supposed to or loose enough in the tropics
popcorn        passenger ships
when you saw it work enough saxophone to find out

ah the road to mandalay
where the frozen dinners play

in thirty years of roads about to go off
in the vision is being taste
in popcorn
in saxophone
it isn't easy giving feet without one
is it worth   taste?
that you saw in       taste?
to afterwards         taste?
you thought of        taste?
whatever              taste
carries that theology
the door opened
and a guitar rumbled
a giant pizza appeared on his bedroom ceiling
he said

from Cyclone Fence (2007)

Friday, June 15, 2018

Archaeological Site

call a plumber!
this helicopter
                     is digging
                  between my temples!
        french fries!
jail!       shoulders!
     knit flags!
politics are my balls!
ape hair    all over the floor!
the middle of dogs doesn't even have
its rubble cleared!
sundays     forbidden
are sold with more sanctity than confetti or scarecrows!
call a plumber!
my walls have been running
and i haven't seen them
for weeks!  

from Cyclone Fence (2007)

Saturday, May 26, 2018


i have to check your history at four-thirty
all the roman ruins of dehydrated bacteria
all the viral cave paintings of galloping infections
all stretched up and down among the hills and dips
of all the beggars holding previous diagnoses in their broken paws

but now     i want you to take this
volume of medical lore that i’ll leave you on your nightstand
look through the pictorial representations
tomorrow i’ll give you real ones in a vial
the art from the museum of my soul
the winding and unwinding of the dna of my own civilization
the light that transcends glass
to make its own moon on the wall so to speak
can you sing?     can you sing to this?
your notes will float you away
this cave art newly manufactured
these paintings made of smoke
this memory of their genesis too hot to hold
for longer than the second it takes your mouth to say lifetime

from Cyclone Fence (2007)

Monday, May 7, 2018

Wall Awe

alL nOW awake
awake All now
alL AwaKE now
AWaKe now all
NOw aWAke aLL

from Cyclone Fence (2007)

For the Resistance -- Be Woke!

Saturday, March 31, 2018


bronze challenge development
development challenge bronze
challenge bronze development
development bronze challenge
challenge development bronze
bronze development challenge

from Cyclone Fence (2007)

Monday, March 19, 2018

Last Purchase

civilization won't let you in at the table top
thing in the cold
unaware of
part of you
the dream    cool
of jungle under your hands
the part of
when your throat hurts

but often death is less organic but you
a short fast life
these live in    as the clouds move
last purchase
the flood is too cozy
you can't    see them
part of you    the part you    the part of
and can't for the freeze

from Cyclone Fence (2007)

Wednesday, March 7, 2018

Buckets of Talk (for Judy)

the throatiness of your voice
like a rug
of fine jungle under your words

i walk home stolen
part of my brain    social
a mythical breakdown
a mysticism of canals
someone mistook me
hid behind a skin
a shield of leather
haphazard radio sputtering around my fingers

water runs uphill
fish fly upside down
hills rise past the point
where you can see them touch the sky
safe in its vast blue ocean

buckets of talk
liquid joy
a fish came home in good weather
after a long walk in the desert
your voice travelling
under its fins

from Cyclone Fence (2007)

Friday, February 2, 2018

The Measure of What You Asked For

saint ophelia is a beautiful town
so bring me the sleeping bar net
pit him a lot of opera
and careful not to follow the directions of just any dust mote
not the king    not the warrior
just open space on prairie wisdom

a painted box on a dresser made of bear fat
she opens it and pours out a song about weasel heads
why they're whimpering    what she did to earn that
this time a hand plunged into time in search of its own body
then caressed itself in a hairy cling
    the interloper that will marry but will not be translated
    the anger unseen of midnight at an unopened door
    while decoded missile controls chatter among themselves
    that such a child will be as we

so this guy goes into a bar    says
give me the flying dead crows of my despair
so the bartender takes out a crowbar    says
all wings are the essence of flight
would you like a double?

from Cyclone Fence (2007)

Friday, January 19, 2018


someone else should tell you the story
about the day all the people
turned into pigeons

suddenly all the buildings were taller
and you could fly to the top
of any building you’d choose

   then    near dawn
   six a m the next day
   everybody changed back 

   nobody could fly anymore
   but everyone around
   had a new sense of wonder
   every time they looked anywhere
   even down to the ground

Tuesday, January 2, 2018

The Return

at ten-thirty the forest closes down
the animals come into the coffeehouse
you can tell which animals are which
by their gait and their posture

some of the animals have to stay outside
giraffes are too tall for the ceiling
whales are too wide for the door
the imaginary ones    the ones beyond mythology
the ones you can’t see anyway
probably got in here first

they fill up all the empty spaces here
you breathe them    they breathe you
the latest taste of your coffee lingers
the drama within you is something that
you’re not sure you know anymore
but somehow you feel
more comfortable about it