More Love Songs
say "we're lovers,"
as if the force of love in our
could take us back to our redoubtable selves,
place where you'd write, "I'm looking for you,
finding daisies in the waste."
that same clarity— your brown hand sifting,
falling away, petals in the hand—
or got how easy it was—
how on the
beaches of your mind
I was to splay and lie. Get wet.
sack of light.
taxis with my sick mother,
dead dog, colitic friends,
penny-pincher: malevolent, paunchy I,
felt the press of that
your grin for me, the stars in that grin.
cramps, bad winds.
nights get colder.
Snow piles up loud on the roof. Hail.
Perfect you, a tidy memory.
Me? Eyes closed like a truck
with a thrown wheel on the freeway.
Obnoxious Die Too
and heavy, he swivels toward me,
eyes watering on his own
arms to the wall beside me, he says
yourself in my position,"
and, stifling my nostrils,
puts himself too close to mine.
I have a hell of a time
his camo zippers bruised my fingers
convex badges on my skin!
Beautiful naked land, you've got
little flab of a defender, I am saying
little protests of my wristbones with every turn of the steering
as the sun comes up on the forest.
Still: I tune in
and I watch the figures.
He leaped on a
grenade. I attend the funeral
with the wives of those he
lying in state, his folds improminent,
embossed and bold.
Lips turned up to the pale sunlight.
cover him with the flag. Taps.
sired us, Mum carried us like bags,
all up the hills and down
I stretched my limbs, blinked fluid from my
Through open lips I gave a liquid low.
horse-head, horse-head, marble, marble,
shiny, black and tender,
flat on the palm, rust-flecked.
cupped bird eggs and licked the air,
your foot callused and
specked on the pavement,
my chin up, whistling, the
Our teeth jutted.
You had your wrist out,
It was always this way:
the clouds over
your head, blue under,
the low float, old timbers,
rasping thumbs, sun, mold
on the wood.