Sunshine eyes me with cold affirmation
a watch for sigh traffic high on
insects waking to season
That willow has probably waited for
in waiting for you and your party
signs that you are partially nude
and need a few minutes
Know how I was
fucked by ancestry and could only
worship in those years awkward fields
You found my stale cigarettes
out near the carnies who
accessorize your dreams

but who would have guessed
how likely your tongue
fit this age cramped on
wide plains that sting your eyes

Nobody was talking so I
dug into earth pulled up
island volcanoes where
roots assume the same
animals over and done
hold lit by green by going
through lawn, thought:

“I’ll just get tired one day
and lay way over in this
and for time I’ll mime
held together by roots
shoots” And how my boots

hold last breath of eruptions away
deeper than we do our business
“No, I’ll wipe the sides

on discontent concrete
and fuck it all up with seed”

for Lindsay

“Feels like fire
on the mountain, boys”
But could almost just write
“the sun turning up
in the most surprised places”

Go back out there and get
eyes spilling over with smoke
where a still-lit cigarette grips
sides of the deck

Now here we’ve got
a hole cinders coal
poem rough round where
we got out back there
spilling into the street split
between here and ain’t

Dead not dead dead

Many of us can pile into
hot little car
and at the next light all
switch places

Little green sticks with warped leaves
me alone in the mornings work on sound
plans committee iterating implicitly
A specific beginning

guess which beggar is your father
among distance staff shortages
blossom on mother’s side
Ribs struck out in full relief

and black and white stars and moons
like grainy wizards on Edison paper
match me to tears left behind by parents
Sins of the father on my arms up to

shoulders leather shoals pout hands
pot back and forth over cool of spring
loaded like potent as on mescaline
Everything sculpted smoke and haze

moving into our respective shapes
but never still in the corner of your eye
my ancestors without foresight
We are slightly behind

We must have eaten that day too
ace of spades work itself out
in the bathroom blowing your nose
got attacked
for prayer yards reddened with nooses
Hungry ghost cat suck breath from sunny day

catch sigh catch iced limes on us
and you punch your own face
acid day of wondering if you’re busy
or swollen tree of knowledge
jut definitive crush on stuffed with
kinda usury

We do have a choice
agriculture agriculture make the world disappear
a friend in jesus