Joseph M. Gerace
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>Response
>For A.G., Whatdoes it mean to have a radio hit? to only define Her by the airbetween toes, curling and stretchingcall this a dance, and Her Suitors will, at least / beside Their unhappiness, be happy a little dalliance (grows from cracks in the carpetstill-packaged rivers, and what do They mean? whatdo They want?
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>Improv for Couple B
>Night settles a hand over the asphalt, its nose upturnedLater, riffs above and beside patches of moist grassSo much artifice: the almost-matching mirrored stars; buzzing suns-silenceAffected, adjunct and bluish hues blinking for window…
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>Improv for Couple A
>Somewhere inside this empty deskthere’s breath, where meddle meets deathand wild wind, that hungry scratch, will catchCouple A’s blight passion coyly exposed. so Couple A will smile,knowingwhat Couple A knows Individual 1 is satisfied / Individual 1 cannot not sleep the daybut, Individual 2? / so determined to mine a final rhyme so tired, so in loveso…
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>pain brûlé
>collared red redundant pillows, then the meandering whims of last nightlike blood, half-dry, spread over that evening’s balmy comeuppance flying nowhere then sick and high from promise, just the smell of itpopping capillaries where skin lives in sin with morning air spun cold.
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>And then The Explosion, Flames Ripping like FISH HOOKS Into The Sky
> i am not afraid of telling youthat disappointment cut me,(but i am afraid to say your name)You, snoring and moaning: a logloafs incontinence down a slipperyhill, and i am nothing but a bald witness these sights and sounds, the pastel palletpushes electric east then wild wind westas i shake my head and daydream, “will you…
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>Shuriken
>How brave those eyes, sidelong and lonely Tender, stretched knowing and pangs struck Across an anvil stretched from tip to toe.Fingers first then greed comb over pelted arms Posture like John from his Master, many fairer Deign no greater good, abandon no lower canvas.After disappearing, the blinking coastal air pants Fever inhaling the deeper reds…
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>Depression
> The dog dashes pastWhat fills the basketOr the tall red binItself, a matter of timeBreaking morning lightOur hours so fast, soSuddenly ataxic. His clawsClanking on the tile floorNail prospective, withering son.
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>is a metaphor
>the most important image in adulthood (is a metaphor) she only seems to be standing black hair bouquet on a pink blanket & arms arch above her head, fingers spin a smokey web emphatic, elastic with a rage insulting passion, real passion nothing about, and knows no subtle range all egg shells, at this second.
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>9th Street & 4th Avenue, You are Many Things, First and Last of Which is Not Me
>Half-naked, dear wondering about the middle of the street& you hear it, the water exhaling underneaththe sweet music none can seefloating like an oily film across the seabegging for its single match, hungry for change Half-naked winking dear, a victim of diseasea beautiful messiah caught laughing in the treesnearby foxes chase quick beesfrom the flowers of…
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