if you think of a title for this let me know (10/21/15)

You cried. I didn’t cry. I can’t cry. You
cried. I can’t cry. I didn’t cry. You
cried. I want to cry.

Mirrors shattered mirrors. Shattered your mirrors my mirrors, all mirrors. Who mirrored the mirror that shattered. Whose mother did you mirror. Mirror whose mirror mirrored my roars.

Used to be the other way around.
Around the other way it used to be.
Fat to thin. Thin to fat. Fattened.
Thinned. Middle ground clothes
shared soundly. Fattened. Thinned.
Around the way, the Other. Cherished
t-shirts, stretch skirts. Cherished the way
it used to be. Floats then now sinks. Used
to be. Used to it.

Figurines fell. Were knocked down. The cat. Shattered shaking the shelf. Fallen figurines the cat shook. Knocked down. Mirrors shattered the figurines. The cat configured the shaking. I shook the figurines. The shelves knocked down my mother’s mirror. Figures figuring mirrored shelves.

A sharp internal sense of justice.
Justice imparted. Outraged your
sense of smell. So sharp, so dark. Just
internal your olfactories. Sensing
outrage I departed internally.
Justice justified.

Spattered freckles. Your face and shoulders. Spattered shattered freckles flecked shoulder and face. Figured freckles mirrored one another. Faced shouldered shelves spattered freckles. Mirrored cat spattered mothers. Flecked mirrors spattered freckles all over your face and shook.

I cried. You didn’t cry. Justice
internalized this death. The Other
wending around your factories. I used to
not want to cry. Fat tears. Thin trails.
So sharp the delineation of darkness
proclaimed. Cherish what used to be.

breezy (9/3/15)

the wind used a normal
speaking voice when she told me
that she too would prefer
that the neighbors dispense
with those fucking chimes

she faltered a little at my back
while I walked to mailbox
digressing into mumbles
about avoiding their aimless
addition of noise

that night she sobbed
and I cleaned up pine needles
and broken bottles from the
porch after breakfast
wondering

who might notice first
if I took them down

haiku triptych (8/27/15)

stop checking the date
consult and sneeze at the sky
summer’s not over

languid patios
fermented glass ankles sweat
mosquitoes persist

big rooms are hollow
your scattered shoes departed
I blow smoke inside

on the hypothetical death of my unacknowledged biological father (unsure of date written)

when i say 'enveloped'
i don't mean a flooding sensation
of microfleece over ears
or the horror of bleached pulp
licked without consent
ejected with bad directions
just perceptible to good cops
with restless legs

when i said 'enveloped'
i really meant to say dead
there was no velvet denotation
i just was afraid to address it

i stopped checking the mail
you were dead either way

*

we met in a bar
everything cost seven dollars

we met in an office
other wealth littered your desk

we saw our reflections in
passing on either side of the street
i saw the shape of my strawberry

stooped bobbing deliciously
looking for an origin story

split open our halves off record
clashed the facts gleaned
from the facade tome

we laughed about hair
how it has always been a plantation

*

i waited two years for one
presumed difficult things
to confirm the worst
dishwashered the letters
what an unscrupulous mess

my shrink knows this
i always tell him the almost truth
he showed me something on a
bright screen to prove a point

my secret was enveloped
he didn’t die
stop using that verb already

when he is ready i will know
my strawberry will say: check the mail

glendale, pt. 2 (3/11/13)

sing for the day that the Lord maybe made:
“no ghosts in Arizona, not even
coldness in the corpses; forgiveness hurts.”
the bodies don’t care for the shape of her
backyard bluegrass blacker with embarrassment.
show the skeletons what her closet lacks.
stop to listen. near hear some bored yellow
toile wall’s wheezy billow. too exhausted

to recall fine elephants who swig deep,
gore sweet, then stick around for a free show:
“her compositions seek composure.” sure.
so do pentecostal women who screech
without tongues. belonging shatters weaker
herd beasts. focus on roars that rise alone.

afk, for a.f.k. (1/26/13)

I am not going to give you any advice
the television made me eat a family
sized bag of flaming hot Cheetos, all
my friends died recently, feline leukemia

today I’ll buy books for my lovely prune,
three fresh mice, and a carton of Marlboros,
chip off anomie early, take a marathon nap, meet
prim with books in a shabby bathtub, maybe share

pebbled pale skin… this invisible friend still
warms my sad blood with swift vibrations
(we all like to autofiddle once in awhile)
no you hang up first, l want to vulgar.

I’ll bake vegan pot brownies just because
a sweetheart is, at heart, a lazy bones masochist.
your mom will have one, hair will be let down.
turn and wait an hour, she’ll fucking slug your father

hard. I bet you one day we’ll hear she stole an Accent,
headed to Alberta, and, apparently, invented a micro
famous dance move they call ‘The Nasty Smartphone.’
Now you and I are lolling in bed, counting mantillas til the cats come home.