Sunday, October 19, 2014

Parched

When I wake in the back seat to a dim teal
on the leatherette, my legs seem to swell
like Grow-in-Water sponge pills. They wet the boat's guard-rail
with their SPF 80 glaze, and their toes touch the kelp ends
that lay flat on the surface. The chafes
from the flashlight rods that leaked last night
into the spots not calked by the blackout curtains
are dry. The seats are rooted to the floor, are pillars
that loom in the morning sheen.


(the kelp ends peak from the surface in youth, but as I age they surround me. I seem to have submerged and drowned, but in dryness, who would have thought death would have been so dry)



Monday, October 13, 2014

damp for
the root

of sweat, we wait for an
intersect of thought like
a cosmic sea-monkey cyst
for hyperbolic brine, settle on

vacuum dust, amniotic juice
has yet to fill the gap between
us and the chaps
pinch the nerves each
time lips splay

to show that

we are

Saturday, October 4, 2014

Surface tension

The romance that two
plump boy scouts push
and inhale through harmonica
reeds is well worth noticing,

lines are gaps
into unease when
on a Duchamp,

and it is well worth noticing
such a droplet in that split
moment of surface tension

when it balances
atop

Sunday, September 28, 2014

Glazing an urn

This urn holds
air, is wiped clean, is not glazed but crisp
yellow like an old meerschaum. There is a hole
at its forehead for air to fold around and press into
air, suave entrance as if with a waxed
air   while the hole whistles like some after-
vibration of a bell gong glad
to see the air through, but to look
seems, look   as the grain still dips
beneath the gloss   it is underhanded
to observe her features by the image
in the bus window, to coat when the always-
child gaze had the texture but the grasp
is followed by what, really
what sheen. This urn holds
air, has a smooth oil finish.



Sunday, September 21, 2014

no-speak

no-speak, the space
between open lips before columnar lifts
and dips in air vibration. In no-
speak tires roll up-
hill before hill turns
to gravity hill to slope, downward
to a point, speech. no-speak:
so long a tongue curled
around potential snaps
into speech when no-
body uses the whole
bin but only what some five
fingers grasp. speak,
but with no-speak, prolong

Monday, September 15, 2014

I

Perfect disk, with an alloy
of mist so thick as to weigh
on the aperture until the pressure
differential became standard, until the grass
blades, grass blades.

Sunday, September 14, 2014

Proselytize

The Red Hatted Vagabonds pluck blues
chords near the yellow
tape at the street fair, not quite among
passerby. You can graph
the ripple of a drop in a glass

but the chorus sings from the torrent,
relatives or dreadlocked
Valkyries in matching
tie-dye skirts, where

the vocalist amid
loose gravel in-jokes
as if tied to the mic-
stand reaches

out and cries
proselytize me baby.