>What Makes, Works

>What makes

Me cry, I never saw
Numb against the invisible pillowed hair
Then matting it down
One pill at a time
It could be, it could be
What it is
Love sick marriage
Splitting us, the cleaving what remains
Not between us, for us, because us,
Beneath us. making love but
Warring ideals = if i win
Doesn’t mean loss for you
Any certain being will tell you
Love/happiness/logic — they
Are wrong, putty philosophy
In children’s hands
Split from children
Hoisting blinders’
Victims of gravity
And I see your hefting shoulder
Yr hungry eye carving into the pillow
Milk roses
Up, Up, Down
And I am saved
In your breath at rest
Saved as in born
Again — willing to accept
Any tragedy, any lie to protect you
Love kills slowly
Seeps into the ground water
What makes us strong will, is now,
Will makes us strong
Damn this muscle for purchase and
Damn our net
We are falling We
Are hand-in-hand We
Strong for love We conquer
What stops our hefting We
Hurl paper spears We shy
As they calcify We
Feel the pierce, they are now our bones
Now we have earth’s comfort, by which
We both say different things/mean to say: we cherish our will
Will be done, spread across the dinner table, the air among, from
Hand-to-hand: INFINITE WE
Have faith
Hold god somewhere dark
Caged and screaming-mercy,
No room for hallelujah
We invent the means of escape
We invert our very suffering.
I’ve seen stronger men struck down by weaker will
Seen 150 years of natural strength heel-over-head
by a single gray afternoon; dead souls revived
propped upon the leaf-and-stick trap floor, spears
below not of bone or paper allure are thieves–
gusts of candied pleas, purple promises– devil-fisted
arrears and impossibly childish horror.
My fingers
Do not broadcast news
Of medical advances, swat
At the passing collection plate
Scale what your mind cannot
Steps ahead
Your mind (now mine study for technique)
My fingers watch
Your lips
Geysering gentle breath
Keep my eyes dry
Whisper what’s worth crying.

>1_No Impossible Morning Coffee // 2_Hungry Football (incomplete)



No impossible morning coffee

caught half an hour in a forever cup
rain, i’ll sip of you
scared to accept all of you
and is there ever too much time
will our love curl under and away
like cold from an open ice box?
only men at work are sublime
the ball after its left yr hand is
what’s essential underfoot loosed
over its crowd i am hung from the sky
gathered and cursing the cure and
nods at naught but my infection
my height
my reflection
no matter how our names bean off the walls
backwards we are among friends
and honest ears clouds trailing away away
always away
& the thing in flight is neither
hunger nor morsel beneath
earnest hands the garden swallows dirt
earth spins when it falls into yr quiet hands
i have gotten ahead of myself
spiraling past what should not survive
everything suspended through invisible trick
tied tightly to attendent fingers
so much depends on wet blue roads
[ … ]

>perspective, perspective, perspective, perspective, perspective


through a keyhole
one spies a beating
a boy on his back
the thick bald
hung over
leather belt, flash of buckle
imposing His vague hate on a still boy
His red tanning the voyeur’s eye
pressed to the keyhole
we spy nothing.
-for One who took his own, for Another who gave his only

>notes: yr cold air

>leash it, Sarah and

be the sun -drunk- pushing
through coy & precious
clouds crowding
out the night
eating all his rice
quarantined &
quarantined &
pinion to light
he is not polite, nor nice. he
does not deserve his sight, a gift
too-big too-bright for such a fetid blight,
feel no shame if only for this single hour:
‘ruat justitia, fiat caelum,’ Sarah.
one face gleams
another yet stalks
congress whispers two
two ears to walls refuse to talk
but, all in wingless glide
handcuffed alight
side by side by side by side by side by side
[ … ]

>notes: In The Fall

>no kiss to heal

i feel so naive, the way
children devour paternal love
with no intelligent comprehension
but understand when the thing is too fragile
when the lonely couple is weak, i
wean myself off petulence then cut
what remains, hard diagonal slices
stick to the soil, resolved in nude patience
and, now, free of sexuality. opposed
we are when our lovers sicken in the Fall
so natural, the sickness its opposition
its patient, weathered color; out of a breeze
your son will snatch the maple seed
straight soft fingers
sticky with sap, pull apart its belly
and press it to his nose.

>notes: beach song

>Affectionate, but underwhelming

wearing too much deep green on mayonnaise skin
an ounce on yr sunshy hip
( yr shamrock is small
( & will stay small )
Dote: Kicking sand into the dry breeze
thick meals slowly souring under the sun’s thumb
hungry teens
_their stomach
_their mind
_their heart
_their hands
_their upturned
eye. wild peaks of perfect waves.
what was from yr womb
dropped into the red morning sand
tongued clean, a relic sanctified in predawn ache.

>middle names

>You think too long

about what else belongs
in yr coffee, “One large
uh Coffee. With, uhmilk? And
uh. Yeah, and one. Uh..
Uh. Twouh, sugars. And
Sugar. One, no two sugars.”
I focus too long on
anger, desire to let hate
warm the mouth, splash
gums & teeth with whatever
sweet becomes when it is broken down.
Some are bitter, some are numb
noodling back & forth in yr mesh shorts
on yr soft clean rubbery basketball shoes.