Joseph M. Gerace
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>how you
>let us remember your brightnessthe church all linked and singinghow you wanted to be rememberedas a woman, let us angel-paint youdead now, only 38 days old, stillvenomless viper, nothing left expectedalways the strike, the thoughtful coilbefore you bit the choir’s heart.
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>biting yr lip
>staring up from the ash, smoking, in the shadow of smoke, remember: like my tongue cut the corners of unutterable white skinour bodies at rest, hurdling into each othera light-tight spasm bucks yr breast then biting yr lip, you float above yourselfstraddling a breathless gushof heat and beaming, i am trapped between a choral aggression…
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>insomnia
>but at first onlythe veins in my armswere that color the bloated purple-greenof hard work, strained throughsuch a perfunctory grate now the cloudlesssky repulses an oilymesh, not for the eye not for the heart, eitherbut beating and crackedan insidious rewind of prone and gagging mixthe owled mountaintopand her shaking skin. can not, will not, must…
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>keep in mind her softness
>keep in mindthe bed’s soft billowits thoughtful handsomeneed. why wouldn’t itsdesirous fit surprise supple dreams wide never wanestuffed gagfull with dead featherspoking jolting inconvenient jeeringkingdoms tatter torn by a ghostno surprise this other latenight life. destroyed at the beck of white noisekeep to your wheat-soft side.
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>Improv for Paranoia, or How to Make a Better Cancer #1
>“Put this on your status if you know someone who has or had cancer! All I want for Christmas is a CURE! ♥ Dear God, I pray for the cure of cancer. Amen. (93% WON’T Copy and Paste this, will YOU?) i am NOT one of the 93%..” Rats snack in the cupboardson clean, masculine crumbstraps clap in the wallbut the blood never runs.
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>Improv for Hands
>here, black streets constructed on white thighsboth hands eclipse a slim aperture, jubilation thenwith the knowing, noshake nor shorea push, profiting.
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>On Linen
>The primary concern is tone, the shallow vanityOf art’s trenches, (The financially successful artist can go on forever:“Wall, whisper, meat, a murdered motherMany moths trapped in dual headlightsA single loose tooth, ‘How ugly!’” Watt’s white linen piled in context, aOne-deeper layer of nudity (unresponsiveBasement). Returning to tone: I am temptedTo say, “Perfect!” standing deeply in the mouth’s…
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>untitled 12102009 2:28 p.m.
>for Sarah & John Currin’s ‘The Pink Tree’ You& Yr sister apposite the choral andhow can the artist describe Yr nudeSmile but those — who’s pink automatic ( You )& spindly hand will reach &prick this GALArific rainbow & precise arrangementunclothed-coy, supporting her pivot You& historiographic radiance, shiessupplying future circles, licks of lightsthe black sky rising,…
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>Improv for Sarah 1
> a cobbled pack of birds no flutter, nor flap, but vibrating mastering the clouds with such fidelity then abandoning the tapes, driving on what could they caw, this cawing crewthat would address sincerely your soulmetastasizing warmth despite the tapioca snowslippery slush sours Freyja’s fair footfall cooking down the stairs, garlic hisses in almond oilby sexual addition…
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