Words over silence
like a mail coat

its rings are Gaza
are sale, are Alaskan
lake fishing

and it is not trembling
when there is a breath,
and unburdened

we spot an orifice
in the breast, more

a need to quake
at the base,
the still base.

Self Shrine

A bookcase:

the read books

stand crookedly,

the clean pages

lie in stacks

wooden yogis

clutter with smiles

etched

as I prepare to move,

I leave this for last, but it is less

assuring now

that it stands against a vacant

wall.

A whisker on my cheek

You are longer, thicker

       a baobab on a salt

flat. The others on my lip

      pale in comparison,

and insist you be plucked.

Can we be fading skin
drying, approaching
the mirror where the blade
winnows the softer

so that the bone
sticks its cleft
chin and cries

in its bass tone
that a life
like a popsicle
sags after its first sheen
of promise?

Was she ever as beautiful

as I recall, or do the pock-

marks

that now drip with “how

do you wash your dick”

when I say I live in my car

only show that my loam

Is sewage?

How to smoke a pipe

This is for the novice:
first there is the flame

any will do in most
circumstances, a heat

that when applied
chars the superficial

into a black cake. Find
that any fresh

leaf will make the burn
uneven. You may pay

attention to the first
puffs, on the second

light, and in consequence
the pipe will sputter,

and when you then pull
softly, the ember

will dwindle. It is a task
where there is no respite,

and so resign, look nowhere
until vision clouds

the sea or the oak or book-
shelves, and prepare

to pack; stay some
time longer,

though, inhale
the blur and release

again, and see how steadily
it burns.

Ketosis breath

Fat chirps from beneath

my shirt as I pedal

uphill, and the carols

of sour fish fillets that waft

from my throat note

progress,

but my destination is food,

and though at times I follow

my gaze to the ripe

horizon until I lap

cherry, it is brief

and I focus again on legwork

and dead fish.