I sit in bed beside you, shearing,
Heating pad set to medium;
You say I couldn’t handle more.

You’re looking for work.
I’m reading about poets in

Meanwhile, your fingers ricochet
Like ants across the keyboard;
Pfizer has some jobs in La Jolla.

I don’t want to reach over and fuck you
Nor use my teeth to puncture your pliant neck,
How glorious to be at peace

Despite all the canned blue passion
Radiating my brain, our out-there gray
Lives, like the promise of snow.

Pain always produces logic, which is
very bad for you. That’s not my line
But it’s a good one and applies here;

Women are bred for pain, they’ve got it
In them. The trick is to realize not everyone
You think is a woman is, my friend. It is dark

Now. The weather report predicts snow overnight
And it is rare the weather report is wrong
Anymore. Four to six inches. This poem

Is about fucking. Or not fucking. Or refusing
To write in bedclothes
with blood.

‘Do you need some more right ears, David?’


do you need some more right ears david?
insert this monkey’s jaw in the space between
the ridge of the ear and the skull? (what is the
name of this extra-hard portion of skull? place
yourself behind the eyes of the croaking
at the bottom of the well y’all read that
dystopian joint, right? if it’s not the question
make it the question the tattoo gun’s inkless
pain not traumatic pain not turn off their mics
pain norman wilkinson glorious connective
tissue brooklyn botanical garden spindle after
spindle of pink thread plexiglass emotion torn into by the drill
bit fastened into the skyline yellow power tool
you ain’t shit without the green palms
atop the far-off balcony (i don’t much like these people
yes yes i’ll say it true gorilla glue too-plastic
reams of adenosine reams of headaches
reams of just fabulous four-eyed ooogling
can you believe what this bouquet cost?

success flower
gourmet flower
torn-muscle flower
fart flower hipsters

flock to see my job is simply to fool you into collecting
my eggs the whole identical alabaster set 144 in all before
abandoning your family leaving only the heavy eggs behind
go to dublin and find someone performative
to love as much as i loved you the right hand so persuasive

Mindfulness Reminder

Wikipedia Poem, No. 707


What gear do I need to achieve great photos?

recording as a tool for science and interpreting a diverse will help you make photography more used to omega works uploaded daily into the world it has been more been used than influenced not only by a series that influenced not be as a photographs

That’s not working for me, honey.

recording photographs have used it today to influence and navigate but by thought history and marx curators who offer a variety of communication history and minx technology at the precipice of photography has been reinvented and circulated using story and work work work work work

Cover your mouth when you yawn, dear.

throughout history and internet and technologically two billion in which a photographs have used the interpreting work you don’t taking honey cover before using the diversity of communication but by the collection but by a serviceable visual culture to the working honey cover the ways

Well, now you’re just being cruel. May I speak with your supervisor?

you will may help like ever this before second used version the photographs more have or used less than it said nearly weighed something

Thee. Photographs more second used version the photographs more second used version the photographs more second used less than it said nearly weighed? Somethings more seconds, can I used less than it said nearly weighed? I’m something on the paragraphs. In more second used version? the photographs more second us here

Polyphemus in Napa

Wikipedia Poem, No. 655


all that mighty oneself
one sees stretch online
glassed by the trees
its easy eye
and wine glasses
lost in branches
by the pain that’s
her sea bottom
home for suede

flash stupid
save oneself
from love you
see selfless be
come classless
seawine in a park
ing lot terrible
things unfriendly
things how much love
is parking one
sees measure sees
love love
is what one sees
oneself flash io
then flash
something else
no longer seen

Orpheus Charming the Animals

Wikipedia Poem, No. 646


“How each child finds that it must deal with / the intolerable // becomes its fate.” Frank Bidart

A note for readers: Each occurrence of an asterisk in the following poem represents one slow, deliberate breath in through the nose (at least three seconds) and out through the mouth (at least three seconds). Silently count each inhale and each exhale. You are permitted to think about anything at all during that time.

the boy
photoreceptors the 
the particular order of a baroque story 
gathered beside hair 
around such magnificent 
photoreceptor density
the forestage animal-watch 
these animal sounds through hyper-baroque storytelling 


gather boys 
the effects of living 
          blue eyed doves and such 
      as such 
as ammonite political sweetness 
my wings perceive something blue eyes he twists 
on the boy in fancy dress the poet 
expects listening blue eyed doves such magical upheaval 

upheaval upheaval upheaval 

* * *

dress symbolism panel justice boys used on the air sounds
photoreceptor thighs
que story gather round boys 
use the crickets bloody death outspreaders 
don't be shy 
who are these animal cruelties among you
orpheus such 
      upheaval english fancy dress 
my wings perceive something blue 
     twist like political 


* * * 

english fancy dresses poet 
         and never 
          look back orpheus charming as a 
      hyperbaroque story gathered like wildflowers 
   boy with no insect parts like rainfalling the recording 
      i mean 
code hung like draperies all another boy used was the 
      monastery between its thighs
on tour (such magical upheaval     english boys 
dressed like symbolism for christmastime
      panels filled just 
with boys 
          in fancy 
dress symbolism 
       in the composition 
      of blue 
      eyed doves 
subduing on 
      a mogul josias murer's danger-room i mean 
crickets bloodparts 
insect legs turn from the crow 
order then cruelty auditory charm blue 
      eyes twisted living noise 
  cardinal wings perceive some thick round noise 
         by rubbing blue 
         doves such magical upheaval    english fancy 
dress symbolism 
    boy upon fired
ink all the recording 
hyper noise recording 
gathered breasts
used on 
monastery crow artist 
         as auditor is 
a baroque story gather 
     baroque boys 
to such magical effect


* * * 

         fancy symbolism 
just any boy copy
and pasted in crows gathered at the forestage 
cone density through hypertext and expects 
living noise by 
      the rubbing together
      the phasing through 
      of ora serrata
perceive something blue eyed 
doves subduing 
    death     or are they crows
    outspread wings perceive something 
    together handheld boy 
        on the free monastery tour 
   (such magical upheaval english fancy drapes


On The Media


warm we link arms before the brawl breaks our ranks
we touch again     ineffectual   fist to ineffectual face
we are touched again to be peeled apart    sprayed 
toward sobbing   and held again in rapturous pain   do you remember
now   singing by torchlight?   do you remember the strange sounds
of which we are capable?   the moan the mutter
the laugh around campfire and when campfires tamp
and glow   and our bodies   just cool of a blister
kind and momentary   sister to sister
brother to brother   all else like a staircase rises up
or helps us descend   in time
it is a struggle   to keep cool   to fight with
one's own fire   the necessary stoke and recoil.

“Mocha Panties” by Arielle Greenberg


You have your skinny pants that you never wear
but that are the barometer. You have your fat pants
that you wear more than you need to. You have your
period pants that are dark and thick and forgiving
and comforting.

You have your period panties.

I have a new resolution not to wear my period
panties at non-period times. I have gotten into the
habit of wearing only my period panties and pretty
much never wearing my other panties, my nice
panties. My resolution is to wear nice panties every
day, even the days I don’t think l’m going to have sex,
even on the days when l’m going to ride my bike.

Once, in the locker room at the YWCA after tot
swim class, I saw another mom who was wearing
beautiful, chic mocha panties and a matching bra
even though she had just come from swim class and
had a kid. The panties and bra looked French, and so
did the mom. I swore right there and then to wear
my nice panties every day, even though my nicest
panties aren’t as nice as those panties were.

But then I got pregnant again and never felt like
wearing nice panties.

So that was three years ago. Exactly three years and
I am finally hoping to make good on my promise of
nice panties.

Thus far I have kept my nice panties promise for
about a week and a half. It’s been difficult. Almost
every day I reach for my period panties but I haven’t
relented. It does feel good to wear nice panties,
though it pains my heart to get on a bike or go to
sleep without sex when I am wearing them.

Even when the nice panties are not two-hundred-
dollar hand-washable silk tap pants, nice panties
are a conundrum.


If you enjoyed this poem, please support the poet and purchase Arielle Greenberg’s fascinating, honest, nuanced and insightful book “Locally Made Panties”.