on my way home I list the carcasses I find:
cutlasses strike the charred cane in concert
all late and incomplete
a population records a population
What if dark means no tree.
a cloud that is too red
I was the empty aquarium recycling its own water.
No lie, I had to speak to the DA
Holding a book of physics essays
Thinking yo, I can’t catch another case
this is a friendly reminder
We saw precise white lettering in the sky.
There is no experience of unmediated desire available to us. The host city maintains that you are exposed.
way the world of ambiguity
has its hospitable cont-
inents But the days Owl
I shoot holes in sports cars with a golden AK
(wow, look at me!)
my animus recedes
today i’m ms. anima
all free energy holds
back internal hustling
C. Dale Young
as the end of the line before the end of the line.
Appendix A: Irregular Objects
if you kill time time kills you right back
rolling through the space that remains of a not-so-distant cloud on the verge of maxing out, filled with variations of ordinary sunsets and faces too intimate for deletion,
I couldn’t name by taxonomy
like an eye fading on a severed head
“Like someone hitting the side of a glass
With a metal spoon
[To the ear]”
Oblivion and endurance overlap at the same inconvenient spot: Where one is oblivious another endures.
You too have learned to bake
Into an admirable lie
There are many ways
To repeat yourself
This is not one of them
In truth we reflect / each other all the time.
What you never knew about me: in a flood,
I’m the silt underneath the abrupt and unplanned rivers.
It is placed into my hands, I hold onto his ears, the mouth still jerking with a waifish creak
Your face is the new face of venous reflux.
She shrieks a story I want blotted from my thoughts.
Someone is peering at her from inside her, staring back at her from ahead of her, someone who lives in redness.
a kind of fuck this moment
To love shadows
when you call, although
dark me this
I'm still, well,
Perhaps for the sake of my heart
I dream of blood as I pour the wine.
I took his hand, light as a bird,
and held it in my palm,
kissing the skin that made me,
In my head I’m wicked, wise, invisible,
but only one of these things is true.
of the aching, rust-worn bell,
it might cave in;
When my time comes, I hope
Renaissance and this moment
A clouded-over eye
in a morning of pauses.
What religion could remain deaf
to such meticulous cataloguing?
She makes a cup of tea, tries to read the paper.
rain in the act of falling
the sky falls out of the sky
and when our boat luffed, / we corrected
hands put them there
wilfully in season in every sense.
the closed eyelids of her hooves
from your “my brother”
a memory of tundra
and forest, a shadow
The sick wear the same masks
as the well.
I want your hair, I’d say.
Your alphabet turns chemical like the ant’s
the elastic proliferation / of desire
Lemons. Life-jacket. My thigh.
and one final, baffled complaint
against all sweet sounds and harmonies.
comrades in grief and in imagination
yes, i’m fine but i could trip on a shoelace
and smash everything at any second.
no mention of celestial proportion
on your business card
so what else is there to do but climb? and besides i have a favorite tree
a shriveled black prune and that’s why she gave you away.
but without it
would be insufficient too
Resist the aperture
Continue until the image is erased.
particles in outer space reach temperatures of millions of Kelvin
The voice, vocoded or intentionally monstrous
swish Oral-B as you convince yourself that
this is how boys like me play
as though this was any
path to knowledge.
The mirror won’t / wash off.
as a day takes forgotten ways
to inform you, deleted thing
No matter what, an alarm
Doesn’t matter what you call me, I made you sing.
the Bibles and the bullets are black.
[Of course, light
loves a hollow.]
Oh, X, death is not a place
to visit. We are already here.
as the dangerous rocks
the sun can predict nothing but black
g o n e f o r g o o d f a t h e r .
The midge, the bleed around the edge.
Under the archway
they can see she’s gone
so my bones are liquid in sleep
(the way bones
entrapment or caution?
everyone is naked do i know
what my body is planning
Nobody can agree what
to do with the creature because
nobody can agree what to call it.
The lights serve no purpose
anymore. They’re just bright.
and I was fine
with being quiet.
My parents thought I was asleep as I slipped
my tongue slowly in and out of my mouth.
In the only version of your going
I can bear to concede
Imagine need like a battering ram
I am syllabic, I am divided
by sight, by sound
language is a spray
a shape made after the weather
We call aimless
that which refuses to kiss us back
passenger in blank air
so each year wears out that sheer delay
simulated utopias too simple to access
(“We can’t go there anymore”) where truth is possible yet not actual
some of us do live in travel guides
his pupils detonate the drowned
light of the triage ward
with a finite number
of blinks and a singular need
to be seen
our gods admit to spirit
around, beside, beyond, within
in one (1) movie the woman -
tied to a cell toilet -
is fucked by six (6) pretend policemen.
beats eating around the bush.
a juror stands at a mahogany
lectern and feels the follow
Last week I blew onto a foil pinwheel
the wind turned it round into beauty
your beauty does seem to belong to a civilization
greater than my own, more effective
in accomplishing its goals.
I attempt to draw a line down myself
where my being black and woman
begin, end, spiral
yet and still the churches burn
This lineage I try
to reject leaves me with a partial face
How does anyone sleep
alone in a bare room with only a Bible
& an empty cup?
I shoot the missiles down using my feelings or a handgun
You think I’m bored. Actually,
I see amputated limbs in discarded trees.
You’re building a vigorous case against me
I am a child
I still live closer to birth than death.
This is panic – this is accidently touching moss
Seeing a yo-yo, breathing past the graveyard
A rocketry museum with a moon rock
A wound is not a world in itself
O pre-teen promise.
All monsters aren’t monsters.
As compared to riding in an automobile
Wilbur Wright called flying “real
If you lose an eye ★ you lose only one‐fifth of your vision but all of your sense of death ★ I mean depth ★ Fuck it
in the 150 language macaronic
enigma-twilight of the Iraq occupation
beach of a littoral zone
just doing my thing invisible style
if I could break that rule
then I could break any rule
as simple or simple-minded as the hope
to prove that you can be of use
I can’t seem to find anything
that’s an example of what I mean
a phantom floorboard wish to sprawl
and you are the meep on the loading dock
I’m your weekend warrior with a knee brace
cheering on the last to finish.
Resignation isn’t always a form of defeat.
These are the final days, and I don’t care.
Music is neither essential to humanity nor corruptible, it is essential to animality.
Issaqueena Falls is an image
attempting a feeling of loss
These days it’s always something
Power is then falling asleep in a chair
And everyone sleeping in chairs
While the bed stays freshly made.
This is not kaddish
This is not rain on shabbat
This is elsewhere
Flirty cartoons deliver safety instructions.
The fluff / of antennae
Keyed entries were transmitted directly into the computer.
i yelled (probably)
chaining ourselves to each
other lost at the sea
Night stalks nothing
Freud didn’t like phones says Barthes
[All people in this video is dead now. Isn’t is so terrifying]
everyone says bitches all the time
I dipped my napkin in his sacred blood
“I’ve been sick my whole life,” says Joni. How do we know which illnesses are imaginary?
In america, you can’t trust
Nothing normal has ever happened to me
how long ago
did her skin
start to slip
we pretend marks are clear
The others were severe forms of travel
an otherwise sequined night
and I’ll believe anything.
An active variant moistened
could be “sparge” but now more
Like we even had to
wrap our bodies round
a cut in victory from the hip
tall gladiolas shout their red
flaw into the mist
true the setting is provincial but
the families don’t feel small
word is deed and only so few chances