April 16, 2009

It hurts in my blood

My face casts sanguine shadows on the ashes
enough of us soul our heads down into dabbles, dust
suddenly badly ached, barely scared

April 15, 2009

Tea party

Week-old kittens mewl as Mama lays down
the fathers don’t want you to get high—someone
waters spring down, pretending

April 13, 2009

The catalog

Descriptions scale to the size of thought
blunt dough pulled through solid air
lost elasticity crumbling in your hands

April 12, 2009

Paint’s eyes

I’m hot below the skin
where coughing slowly furrows
bleached like paint’s eyes

Sunday

The dead are waking
in churches—Neon eggs crack
like dawn in a rice grain

April 4, 2009

Ragged anchor

Intuition flutes killed milk
no image grains nailed to your shadow
frail eating the world

Bloody Nimbus

Diodes are crying
it’s dropped orange tingling in my skin
to walk in sunshine

April 1, 2009

Eating Tingling

You gotta love me because i’m unfathomable
and more than fashionably erudite, almost see-thru
Waiting on a guy to call to hook your brother up
There are tears in all my cigarettes

The depths lap at the ends of my skin, rubbing raw
You gotta burn me squeamish squall among the turbines
and poke yer finger right through me
Everything I’m telling you came from far away

and a long time ago someone erased it
You turn it over, looking for the seam

I ate something that made me tingle
I rippled like answers in an earthquake
Milk floods in where the honey didn’t spread
You’re trying to swim through the lime

Bloatware

Bloatware: unceasing devil
Boatware: red weather turbulence of algorithm disenchantment
Bloatware: misunderstanding all you see

It’s a goddamn web authoring component
I’m like the clock on the wall
I can hear the wind bending over my window
I bend and I clench
I flame and re-tether
This Software Streams Directly Into My Ass

Motherfuckers

Back in the day I was talking through glare-yellow streaks
The woods were eating my face
Look, I say, the day’s come back to me
Misunderstanding all of it, and proud

I don’t doubt how shallow flutter
screws sleep in just over the shoulder of a cold girl