GRIEF

bewitched insouciance
we fear
not wield

Volcano is No Volcano [HOLD FOR APPLAUSE]


A vicious life wrapped around symbols. What is the thing I want to tell you the reader is the same question as who am I as how do you want your daughter to remember you. A litany. As someone who taught her the courage to live as she wanted is the same as you as the clay won’t harden in such conditions is the same as grow. As the burning u-shaped chassis of the Volkswagen Jetta is to the tree. As hair-covered arms covered in ants. Develop love. Stick to it. What I know. Like white snow. Volcano is no volcano. The greater eyes retain you over man’s laws. And they’ve advanced to the point where you’re convinced you don’t remember the brand: Philip K. Dick. Nam June Paik. Open Mike Eagle. Donald Trump. Valentino Rossi. And more. On this week’s. Meet the Nation. [APPLAUSE] [HOLD FOR APPLAUSE] [HOLD APPLESAUCE FOR APPLAUSE] All art is taste. False. All taste is broke. False. The moment you call him divine. True. Red is blue / a wire monkey, / too. Remember that, Maeve? Syntax. In whose hand? Cheating. A projection. It’s sad the things you remember. My aunt’s hand. Why now? Wow. Disney laid hands. I’m afraid to reach out. Don’t be. Brown cow. And slowly cold rain in hair.

Agency Representation


the tide dropped out
while still enrolled
puta in the sun
scared moon
certainly not the heroes
darkly begging at the shore’s feet
taking advantage
the only thing
at which they’ve excelled
no other way to get it done
their shoulder / your shoulder
their back / your back
the chorus unable to prove anything
anymore distracted by distraction
comparing
work to worry
reaction to action
syrup to syntax
the anti-war movement of the ’60s and ’70s
sabotaged the culture
their heroes heathens lords of dew
acknowledge the abusive sutra
turned themselves out
there’s hero shit in the street
and no one picks it up
which is to say
everyone refuses to pick it up
who precisely is this no one
and are you looking
for agency representation?

Sentient Sinatra Sunset (John Lurie)


for John Lurie

is edible drowning up there?

as predicted in a future poem his aesthetic stands itchy in hotlights at the sink washing dishes while thinking up elden ring memes for twitter clout

this is a modern poem that does nothing his hands of caged meat slimes up past his elbows as he lemons this trademarked postmarked marky marked one and only love sucked

into low orbit observation send it said eddie said she hopes the doctor got his dosage right this time this is is real now

despite our collective mfa the mouse squeaks the house sneaks the chinese porcelain every druggie wanna-be and dead-alike speaks at length about cockroaches scampering tightly under skullskin it just so happens that every sortie of weed manufactured across the southern territories since at least the end of the second world war has been poached without the consent of hives worldwide there’s always a paranoid car story he read it 

he’s not doing anyone a favor these dishes crack themselves on concrete and file away tortoises tying

uh oh what’s in his hand against character your advertisement of very uncool touching

father on blasted beach the sun has no imagination his parents chose to orphan him is that mean is that the point bed bath and beyond hacked his sorry ass hello william gibson the holy spirit a samurai rides the gyrus orphaned by its slight description 

yeah that’s saying it plain the first great passage of the twenty second century opens up this his first novel about the black wall they know they’re on tv too hard to get up this hill without it

the dog sniffs the plastic takeout bag the cockroach pushes around particular brain ridges conspiratorial things let him call the shot is too beautiful to have been composed its eyeline blasts his sacral aqueduct

splash damage vibrant with all that yellow racing thru his gut but vibrant but vibrant with sesame seeds pecked into the ceiling on their way to god chandler bing is a name he just thought of suddenly for no reason your image of god continues to anger the church bell edible and deserves to see the phantom menace in theaters and cut his oh man those three were dead before the sardine hit the ground they were all fucking with him clean out the world for virtue and love the lemon said

they were bugs and teeth scattered like water run dry too much coffee for this to be his first time in the afterlife he didn’t write he got them sons of warriors that hiss that service he looked away

his poetics is super mario kart

oh man look at that sunset

protect it

I Burn The World


i don’t want to hate read
your big bang which is to
say i desire to sniff your
every sip of coke carry you
closer to the end of beer
of coffee of water i am
formally interesting of but bereft baked
into obsolescence the right hand no
poems about rain when i drive
the scents enter and exit like
coffee shop customers once a virgin
always a virgin no leatherback sea
turtle devouring a jellyfish have a
strange obsession strangely unobsessed i was
a bad translator and a hell
of a stylist trapped in colin
powell’s test tube not being dramatic
when i say the light dims
vibrating elements start a tv network
arch of river-wet stones above creek
in vermont if you don’t know
the noun its sentence is alien
and uber modernity says don’t slow
america morphs individual identity to bludgeon
america grafts vision to formula warmachine
america was nowhere america had nowhere

Millennials Lose Their Teeth in Threes

their miraculous pink dresses on the left hover
over the pancakes of light leaking

onto the film or maybe even it’s an app
i’ve watched prestige television the kids

are beautiful except the ears
of the twenty-something his life

decisions rattling in the high grass
baked in milk so much poison on the right

she’s tall and thin and nondescript
the last boy smoking wrapped in starlight

solo cupped his purple fingers are squid
as smart as dogs they’re having so much

fun i’m jealous more sex light leaks
so many of them better or worse looking

triangular heaps of flesh in primary colors
banded at the waist with reinforced steel

thinks décolletage wastes his life in a can
do attitude pink fishnets i can just barely

see your pubes sit up straight the sun
hasn’t bothered us in days & yet & yet

peasant families say death comes in threes
i work at facebook my cat wears four red keds

i’m beautiful i’m lost in a supermarket
a slobbering minstrel and a child slave from xinjiang

walk into a bar the pastor trying he’s trying employs
two granny emoji to cover his indistinct nipples

on his finsta the pink dress on the left is recruiting
the light again is better now march 12 2021 still drunk

still water faultless aquiline stock photos
getty images is having a moment

the associated press is having a moment
ethnic cleansing is having a moment

facism labor bigotry accountants
babies the elderly eldridge cleaver

said all the gods are dead
except the god of war

is now available on steam
my battery is almost dead

you give me the creeps when beauty
is undeniable it can only be called witchcraft

we’re minting nfts so our
children’s children won’t have to mint nfts

What Chance Did She Stand Against The Research Psychologist and a Team of Programmers?

i can tell you what the witcher is about and to whom i owe my day — the miner of the ethereal — but then you'd have the sundown left to blame.
Hyrule Gers Unregenerately In Plato’s, 2021

answer the call humankind lin
the shadow of calamity ganon
rises over the ashes of
hyrule gers unregenerately in plato’s
cave still reveling its craft
your survival age-old habit
in defend the legend mere
images of basic reading ability
is needed to fully enjoy
this game the truth but
being educated by photographs is
not like being fantasy violence
educated by mild suggestive themes
older more artisanal use of
alcohol images for one breath

Pieta for Tala Madani

display in gruesome on
performance in gruesome at
performance their shadows mingle
bottom reach for one
their shadows above gush
for one another of
gum pink above gush
french’s classic yellow of
gum above unintentional of
classic yellow constellation above
can you see? the
above two men can
see? odds two men
by the woman odds
come here to know
by the woman dancer’s
you’ve come here to
drip but dancer’s legs
what they need to
drip but repetition repetition
say what they need
say can be its
language repetition repetition repetition
of grey shadows can
its own language perform
of grey shadows gruesome
perform display gruesome display

“Oh, I See A Roaring Noise, Roar”

I place one cheerio in my mouth and suck my lips I look around and moan I chew no teeth another cheerio in my mouth I stir my hand around the silicone plate my right hand a fist in my left hand I pick it up the cheerios with index finger and thumb equally with the left and right the index fingers rub across the silicone I pull and it doesn’t give another cheerio I want out of my high chair another cheerio I use my small hands to push off I’m choking I have resolved the choke to push her off from the table a little bit more the high chair does not budge chewing slamming my hands moaning a small smile eyebrows raise a gaze I laugh at my ugly father some coughing though no choking another cheerio grabbed in a fist another cheerio a pincer grasp I’m mumbling I like the noises I make I reach for the milk I pull up the silicone mat I push a cheerio onto the floor I push a second cheerio onto the floor I’m looking for something oh I see a roaring noise roar I bring the silicone mat up down up I hold it in mid-air I flip it I chew it push the mat make mouth noises flip it one arm up one arm pulling the silicone mat moaning pushing a quick drink of milk a raspberry I flick the nipple I intimate as though I want milk I refuse the bottle I pull my father’s sweater the wrist the arm I poke I poke I poke I bite my father no teeth dang it cough I scratch at his new tattoo scratch right hand left hand left hand scream scratch my father pulls his hand away I reach for the water am I drinking I’m drinking I pull the straw from the silicone cup and gag myself I reach for the silicone cup spill it across the table the water drips slowly from a small hole that has been inverted spin the bottle unintentionally I want water do you want water I drink from the bottle like a big girl I retrieve the cap from my father I groan into the silicone cap I push air and vague sounds from my throat I chew the silicone cap some more no teeth I drop the silicone cap on the floor more water drunk most swallowed some dribble down my chin

Instagram

one in three questions is serious
two are small hands grasping
in the wet-dark
for salinized water

hewn stone
or a mustache
arriving at customs
before a tour
of the great pyramids
of vegas

i am obsessed
through collage
but that’s behind him now

a flashlight / in a closet / at the bottom / of the aegean sea

You’re a nag.
You’re a liar.
You’re lazy.
You’re selfish.
You’re deluded.
Stop wasting my time.

he is a craftsman
with beautiful rough hands
full of calluses like truth
with crete between
his team has prepared
marketing collateral
and sand fires for every possible occasion

If you don’t like it, you can leave.

in fact i think you should go
freshly shaven chest
like a great royal crest
give the world what it
so depressingly craves
space

in its arms this generation bears
time or place drowning my hands
around its neck long and slender
surrender

Everyone agrees with me.

 trees sorting themselves below birds

You should be ashamed of yourself.

 great figures inconceivable if not for sky

I don’t need you, you need me.

nothing neat left in this moved-on world

After all I have done for you, this is the thanks I get?

oubliette, oubliette, oubliette