[ Poetry ]


Luigi’s penthouse
Luigi Lefty’s barkeep where I met him on the nude beach Zipolite, Oaxaca Two thousand fourteen Big Italian went chest first no shirt and drank from the bottle ran drugs …
Lefty’s tender side
Hey Lefty Lefty’s eyes went queasy then wet as good pussy This is Mom said the voice on the phone Tears sprang from Lefty’s face Tarantino leer quavered …
Another Hiding Place
lilac draped courtyard, melancholy compost, spousal tongue erects blockades— the I (eye) tires of the restrictive, familiar imagery— swampy masses, yellow nerves seeking, rebinding our mutual human/animal connection— …
For you Sam, Favorite books
For you Sam Sam calls it this human experiment I ripped off the phrase It features in the opening story of my book Which I sent to Sam Who read …
an act of kindness
i hunger for the moment of entry for expansion yielding all pretense all carefully constructed indifference to a muted question of permission may? i?
subjugation, not safe
subjugation wait, i can explain -- i used to be feral, chewing raw meat with sugary teeth, sucking on a carcass during sleepless nights, trying to fend off boars and …
Sunny, Confused, Ice Cream
Sunny And now the sun appears – an arrogant schoolboy staring through my window – What am I doing? Just looking.
Nostalgia, Overland
Nostalgia Tidal rapids. The current was too strong.
Childhood
I lived in a town where starving girls weaved Paper chains from heartstrings and gum wrappers, Staving off reality with cheap spirits coaxed from older lovers I lived …
The Summer I Stopped Eating
Peeling oranges with our eyes closed, on a rooftop lidded with stars Moon scrapes away a crescent of the sky and we cut away pounds of Our flesh …
Party
Ketamine kisses douse a blazing girl with the sick tang of gasoline, heartthrob, dementia She droops, star splayed and eager in her drowsiness, sped by the rhyme …
Other; In Her Tavern; Rubble
Other Faces shift in my dreams from us to them and back. They are with me, free in that place: my people, cast out as Other from this …
It Will Come Back, Distant Music, Transient Stroke, Basic Math
It Will Come Back we say (fingers crossed, knock on wood, salt over shoulder) because it always has, because we don’t know what we’ll do if it doesn’t. Spring, …
Meal Time
Meal Time Each morning, I boil the ocean to make my tea. I season my eggs with just sea and I eat it with a side of …
Testimony to Sense
I. The air adorned with notes of milk.
Cosmic Joke, Key
Cosmic Joke I’m dying. screamed out into windowless night before being coaxed back to a confused bed.
“The Dishwasher,” “Splitscreen,” “Countdown,” “Immovable Property”
The Dishwasher I work the constellations of soap foam as the steam rolls up like little scrolls. My wife is still asleep.
What Keeps Her, What Do We Pick Up, Ballet of War
What Keeps Her Blind exchange Can’t look both ways Caved in discussions All up in the air He said she was Loose Tight percussion Kept her moving By the jukebox …
ADOLES-NO-SENSE
pheromonal? Zeusian grok: outa (I thought) lotta blue sky a lightning bolt surprises you distracts radar from what I had presumed an ability to navigate these …
The City’s Guts; The Beach; The Chariot of Surya
The Beach Smooth grey pebbles lie among the shingle like sea eggs on hard orange and yellow chips of glass Only the high spring tides wash up to …
2 poems
La Diva La Diva Who is La Diva not you bathrobe between the legs in the shards of shattered mirror stuck in tufts of red shag but La …
Participant; The Heat; A World of Good
Participant Four women from her choir meet bi-weekly with my wife to sing: still strong sopranos, one alto. They do show-tunes and reminiscent rock, interspersed with raucous laughter; …
Three Poems in Conversation
1. Johnny I drag iron-heavy skin down streets with foreign names.
ADOLES-NO-SENSE
pheromonal? Zeusian grok: outa (I thought) lotta blue sky a lightning bolt surprises you distracts radar from what I had presumed an ability to navigate these …
An Almost Miss
An Almost Miss Gripping our raft, with rope burns, blistering hands, under a blinding, searing sun. We float along a churning river, while Father Time draws a constant line and …