Disambiguate the Precedent (Assassination Attempt No. 1)

god is
an alligator white
dunce cap common
supernatural they are kind
of fragile wicked mother
i said i don’t know you
reveal your in
cantatory power
vanishes soon of dawn
alligator called
maeve anything is yours
big smile looking
at leaves
going around
your big breath rattling
every baby born after
june 07
confused about cost and course
are you wind wisened
carried from child
to child in red eyes
we haven’t slept
for weeks drink
some of this
we need to talk
blockchain saprophyte
you imagine
not wanting to die
at cost
suddenly his girl
friend her
cadillac mania
smoldering munitions
return from orbit
burn bump and birthright debased
marlboro of denial
indifferent save a dream
david shields trashes
my bike the hourlies
and the salary men
hide like armor
ed doors
between you and i
and me confusing
memory with money
untold nights buzzing spent
the gin flower in my heart
explodes
killing myself
there’s nothing
i want more
than desire
be alive 🍼
see my alligator
grow up i was 14
or 15 didn’t know anything
in lieu of replication error
chomped a personality
by liquor light 🥃
and it worked
at immense cost
20 years
pry open my skull 💀
exorcise the inadequate
physical ruins of love 🫀
collapsed by mid-morning
one suddenly
recognizes
at immense cost
the crushing power
of Their jaw 🐊

Dear Oblivion


dear oblivion
i hear you
shredding bone
in the golden
place
salivating
somewhere
unknowable
a man
grills
meat
a child
screams

what i mean to say
is this, dear oblivion:
i remember
the littoral darkness
of the rising afternoon
the light
never
having
been
enough

dear oblivion
i hear you
crawling away

The Inhale (13)

A Memory

for mouths. remember the taste of the burning dollar bill, the mossy ember. the inhale.
meant it differently than the other, but they were both beautiful men with spouts
one poet said, and then as if in response: charnel house, said another. one
search from time to time. in the dark off-ness, what does one find? charnel house
it was somehow meditation. felt nothing searched. still search. we still
die. later, on holly street, i used my hands to break plates against the wall and
why not others were doing it and if a man can — again, why not? and i did not
in relation to every man — an impossible task. when i was thirteen i did a thing because
that makes them special. i of course mean me, but think about my self
state of things the big ones derivative in their not caring much about anything;
i interrupt your regularly scheduled programming to wonder about the current

1870

chassepot rifle, 2019

thoughtless deference to free men swimming by
who mostly don’t—though sometimes must—
respect the point of exclamation! / part and not part

[sirens wail] [she moans]
bean can and bottle top; variable dimensions
are we talking about the made-thing or the making-thing
drifts into reverie

bamoun duala ewondo gunpowder
igbo kikongo lingala yoruba sango twi

both; i am the rooftop bar
i am the school of fish
basking on the sidewalk; red neon
no tricks; implicated lion; times square

i needed a title so i stole one
i needed an image so i stole one
i needed a poem so i stole one

words phrases and acronyms
we know ied compression of language
tetric choices lean against acid blonde
miniskirt robed in telephone pole
we imagine dirt lipped centrifuge hands
connected behind cross-shaped crane
scrapes human tissue cloudless sky

‘When Adults Talk’ by Mary Ruefle

Broken Lance, Joseph M. Gerace, 2019

I am not even vaguely interested,
though for a quarter I could be.

I was not allowed to move but when my leg went dead
I cheered it on in the first place.

When they whisper they ought to wear a lead vest.
Their lips look like personified oysters.

When they shout it is usually addressed
to the dead body who owned it before us.

We can safely assume one of them is born
every minute of the day.

When my rabbit ran away it was a great relief.
I could not say so—who would understand?—

So I cried for a week.

Source: Ruefle, Mary. “When Adults Talk.” Selected Poems. Seattle: Wave Books, 2011. Print.

Chase & Repoussé

Wikipedia Poem, No.  826

SUNFLOWER-718

subtle white clover
yields at dawn
shifting cubes of light
pliant suburban lawn
chase and repoussé

Ivy, After Forgetting, Again

Wikipedia Poem, No. 606

ivy2


ONE
of thf 
    thene be 
doesagicaow, ihow w now, pen find turn  
one 
magicwordsmain, scale 
misout arave g 
     luc

TWO
ind 
make otyour r? 
      i e to made e 
          mises tuufficne touto-cecomee 
gra doesrds rr? 
i 
    f theper 
   …encie

THREE
uffic 
a gre becale 
    f 
findoes 
o one to 
hoaper 
estifturn 
     s oneking 
       the 
wed 
tefrom  
    off 
emainf walying

Trinity (Nuclear Test)

Wikipedia Poem, No. 507

w507

“I wake up from sleep. And I fall asleep again! / From serving an era. To betraying a different era. I recite. / I will keep paying 150 yen to buy your smiling face.” Terayama Shūji

          but only therapists remain   
and projected to have         
no metaphors i am thinking 
the impossibly           large brick school building 
the phone call   and days ago 
holding             no         metaphors        
i am thinking about      what i asked her  
in first grade        the therapist holds 
the fragile invulnerable dictionary 
spasms   outside      the hand and apologizing 
about       the boy          i was 
how my motherapist      and days ago         
     holding spasms         
outside this        thinking exercise      writing about   
the fragile invulnerable world 
about     the boy                     
the impossibly large therapist 
projected toward me

Therapy (Pulling Red Thread)

Wikipedia Poem, No. 483

wiki483

   dazzle in bayonne
them i 
spot the battleship a 
brave 
   thing in me 
but 
      better in college 

baionnette
bayonne
diminutive bayon

i am a 
human who 
     sits unlike a trough 
purchased long at 
the 
      academic front leaking

a long narrow open container 
for animals 
to eat or drink 
out of

        control 
    frightens
thought

thread-eye
rarely painted red

Poem

now outside are scary things
out there children play
other bells ring out then
cease with mouths and thin skin
everything with clout is immediate and
blood waits for a bout below layers of paper

my dog watches a goldfinch
with her nose she cries
and whines complains
or does not understand the screen
a hinge creaks between
her wet nose in here and her memory
of sprinting
of the dry grass
on her brown back
of the unexpected
pizza crust she looks into me

with the excited eyes of a middle-aged
woman who in 2017 bravely enrolls
in an online poetry course
the TA refuses to insist
Frank O’Hara’s Personal Poem
has nothing to do with her
racial hangups he lost

his sobriety and everything
is unshakably out of control.