Day After Time (Fail)

Off they go,
the weather, as days
abnormal horses. For

this time of year interiors
enjambed--cut
to the campy quick;

spread or poured speech,
the chased o shapes of
glass bottled glugs.

Laced sound tied,
rhythmic, clock-work.
Again, at a loss

words remain
reached at, snatched for
spoken knot, written knot:
All mispaced, splayed.

Hey!

Right now would be a
good time for you to
show up
glazed in raindrops
and dripping on my
door mat
with a rough woven new
shirt on
from whatever indigenous
mountain tribe
to whom youǘe lately
been teaching the fine
art
of sock puppetry

Itś a good time for me
since I am wearing
a great sweater
and eating hot popcorn
alone in my room
with no one looking for me.
You could be.

PLAY THE MOOD FOR A LONG TIME

Happy birthday!
we can't get enough
play kick the can
stick ball
beat down the tiny paper horse strung from that old cherry tree.

Remember when we sat in those swings?
when you said you loved me?

I wouldn't do it either.
I wouldn't leave this old thick life

shredded with a tin grater

for an abandoned house.
hey, no hard feelings.
and...Happy Birthday. Seriously.

poem in a poem

"you should have come
helped me with this,
bitch. "
you should have come
helped me with this,
bitch.
i am not really
listening to this
i am looking
at sandra bullock
kissing a lady and dennis hoffman
kissing a man and i am
saying 'no' to cash back so
i am not really
listening to this
until i ask the cashier
how is he doing
until he tells me
he is great!
"i am great."
he says.
"i am just listening
to this poetry."

will

I am not a writer in that I write well or often but in that I have writerly aspirations
You know, to scratch at tablet and lay string on thing,
And shout in someone else's head
Forever echoed
Because I worry about retirement

armchair

the thing i like
best about
my parents home
is that there is no excuse
for siting around in your bed
when there is a roaring fire
and an armchair
more welcoming
than any combination of
sheets and blankets
and pillows
could ever hope to be

the united nations

he sets his alarm

gets eight hours

wakes to the alarm

believing that each day is important

as the day when

an acquaintance

had given him a private tour

of the united nations building

that blue rectangle

on the edge of midtown

where he saw

a young woman

his age

and attractive

discussing policy writing

proposals

of hers

he remembered

what people like her

were doing

ten years ago

in undergraduate classrooms

and he remembered

himself

ten years ago

in undergraduate classes

his choices have led to his outcomes

and hers have led to hers

at the united nations

and that's that

he decided

to start setting his alarm

getting eight hours

waking to the alarm

believing that important things

are happening

somewhere on earth

every day

Karen

Maybe YOU'RE being a little paranoid

because YOU feel a little guilty

Karen drives me crazy sometimes

When was the last time I had my period?

It was back during the the week of the 14th

when you had that bad cold

I thought she was a bitch when we first started working together

I think I love him, Mike

It's different from the other times

You can tell, right?

I think he's the one

It's hard for me to feel happy for other people

I don't really know why and it worries me

but I think I feel happy for her

Because she is my friend

and she is in love

I think you've officially lost it

2011 is the year where you will officially become a lunatic

oh STOP it

Love Four

It goes without saying that to close the ceremony he sang the "addio alla vita" from Tosca.
-Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Came out from between the folds -
the right waves hitting the arches.
The noises everyone wanted to make
but couldn't
so their throats tightened instead.
Bitter lemonfaced, everything inside
pulling tighter
to make it through the bottle hole
of a bad thing.
Outside, the sun a color
that no one had ever seen before.

In the beginning

We were new
the air, fresh and sharp against our lungs
we breathed in because that is all we knew.

Each hand stretched out
pushing against the world.
Soon steps would come pushing a full
body against the wind.

We thought
in broken id-like thoughts
of want
of hunger
of need

Yet we knew
what taste was
what soft felt like
blinking.

It was all new
until it wasn't.

Broken Things

Broken hearts

Broken dreams

Today was full of broken things;

Broken sticks

Broken stones

City street full of broken payphones

Broken condom

Broken tooth

Broken neck

In a noose

Stranger on street says -

"Broken things have no use!"

The latch doesn’t catch

The zipper, it sticks

The clock’s hands are frozen

No more tocks or ticks

The faucet drip

Poor granny's hip.

Only saving grace for today's broken ways

Is that at least

I like broken things.

And broken things -

Like me.

#3

this thing of opinion fatigue being the actual stance that you can take.


#4

o, i have a low tolerance. i will be professionally good at passive listening. i want to know more and more and more and more about you, in the way of satisfyingly frantic post-tattooed autobiographers.

and if i had to pick, well. if i had to pick. i have recognized things with certainty, recognition at first sight but not like love, it can be love or it can be something else. sometimes, and in the sense of the you that's always already there being from the world before you can say so, from the world rather than being born.

Eden at the Mukilteo farmer's market

Behind her,
the flower seller, the oyster sampler,
the mushroom vendor, the cookie baker,
and the grass where your can lie down for free.

The ferry downhill blasts its horn
collects its last passengers
and sets off for the islands in the sound

The grass was all that was here
it didn't seem like a bargain then
so much trouble to mow
and muddy in the winter

but standing here with the berry dealer
the butcher, the ice cream maker,
the cheese distributor, now it looks
like prime real estate, and a steal!

behind her an old hill
taken for granted
we thought it would always
be vacant.
now it's the market
she made it.

But relax, these facts cannot
turn the noble ferry
from its course. Civilization
has indeed given rise
to catastrophe. And the grass
is still free. Being Eden meant
allowing it to be, even while
creating and event on top of it
which she would eventually leave.

Face we took for granted under
a too-big hat. Toothy smile
tangle of hair. What do we get
when we name things and
people? The unsellable swollen
with the pride of the sold.

The muscle sculptor, the dimwit
designer, the heartache healer,
the bobber for apples, the sleeper
in pastures, the pastor of commerce.

naptime

in between the bells i rest my head on a stack of papers
i hear the chatter in the hallways as they bustle by
in fits of laughter,
screaming and giggling,
arguing about nothing
i hope i locked the door.
i shut my eyes
as i drift off the bell rings
here they come. take a deep breath. sigh. get ready.
forty-four minutes to go.