in my pocket.
My choice
to keep a locked heart
with my keys,
stagnation with my change.
Choosing a day when
ancestors smile,
I’ll skip change
on the river,
hold the key
in cupped hands,
and wish you near.
Sometimes foreplay
Is sipping from freezer chilled Pepsi
Eating roller grilled hot dogs
In parking lots of hotels
Just off the interstate
Somewhere
I yelled from the
back room and ran
to find her standing
with a sandwich
In her hand,
there are flowers
Her body lays calm
cold
At least she’s not purple
not gasping
not shaking
She’s still
in the kitchen
holding her sandwich
as I ask for a popsicle
broken in half
my heart
It’s broken in half
as I stroke her face
now cold
“My hands are cold,”
I say to her as she’s
laying there
“Grab a paper towel,”
she says back
and
I run to the back room
as my hands warm
and I look back
because I can still see her
smiling face.
I can still see her
peaceful face
when I look in the
mirror to wipe
the tears
from mine.
Would you feel better
knowing it took all
morning to manifest
myself?
I kept forgetting
the black wings.
I keep getting caught in cycles.
CNN FOX MSNBC
Bravely, let’s skip to the end.
“Mr. Savage!”
Then the feet slowly
turn like compass needles.
I have grown cold to this decade
Twenty something would be something
different entirely
if I folded myself into the hands of a man
“Honey you’re a female, twenty something- they’re going to take advantage of you”
You shouldn’t walk alone at night
A change of hairstyle might
Help.
Do you have a
man to accompany you?
because
because
because
you are a twenty-something
And every car dealer has a daughter just my age
Bullshit.
(after Bobby Steve Baker’s To be in
Rhinencephphalon #23) the moment
is the miracle
– Osho
…to be a dog
to rest on the screened-in porch
and, bugless, watch the slant of light
from the June 1st sky through the wire grid
rid myself of myself
dream-smell rabbits and empty guns
listen to the pulse of bullfrogs
lick salt from wound of world
…to be a simple soul
to find myself in a basket in the bulrushes
held by children and nursed by mammals
who know the stars and not their names
…to be blank to wisdom
alive outside the common sense
A generation raised by women
Single mothers
Superheroes
Raising boys on the fly
YouTube guided us through our first Windsor
None of us learned to shave clean
So how can we explain masculinity?
Watch John Wayne
Listen to Beyonce
Become a man along the way
The orifice consumes the frame
a vast, open mouth
molten
as if you ingested the sun
or spilled your candescence
tongue, a tide of fireballs
~ Inspired by Georgia O’Keeffe’s painting “Special No. 21,” http://paintingdb.com/view/7237/
