Poetry
Five
BREAD LOAVES
as you get older
your net gets smaller
weaker and bigger at the same time
your filter
weathered, looser, finite
what gets to you now
isn’t debris
but gold
scattered nuggets
open
only to you because
you’re older
your level of participation
becomes
a deeper relationship
with the trash you leave behind
complexity
fucking
clarity
blood from my nose
from my pen
feed the tiger
to cure the bruise
TEXTBOOK PACIFIST
to fuse terror into the word strive
try explaining surrender as definition
or fear — as — mirror that forms body —
try accepting the collection of — who yu talkin' to —
as — an opacity of letters
that define the history of change
as people — or — scars in the form of
animals who write — you know, the ones who attempt infrastructure
re-constructs that beyond the output of misplaced spellings
by purposely confusing the reach — of — what you just said
to spell out — achievement — before — wonder
try spelling out the thought of idea
using the of that spells connect — the definition of — the making of
to art in the time of body
to the already gone of this body
that makes — what I don't need to see
remind me — of what I do need to see
so I can say — what I don't need to say —
and be the change before the get —
dive into the cortex of a nation
incise decision out of skin — out of semen
out of blood — raise a question with an image
before a thought — compare body — to — idea being object that dies
to — image being thought that arouses idea
with fight or flight —
escape inside be
explain yourself — inside yourself
inside the making — the age of talk
relies on speech that doesn't explain — but
one that looks
like you — moving on the inside
striving for transparent definition
before finding who could be — unknown
unchanged — you know —
someone like you
PERFECTLY SYMMETRICAL PEOPLE
there was once a way to bare the soul
a telling to the revelation
there used to be a point to exposing weakness
to the pointy-shaved airspace
centered over love-emoji
to the latch-key materialism
incognito'ed by desire
by delusion's outpost
where we set bags down
there used to be a purpose to the not-getting
the reach-mounting
the faulty-eared reconnaissance
inherent to the perfectly symmetrical
the hate losing
garbled by solo track announcement
there can only be so much sleeve
for every heart
so much balance available
for the overly sensitive backwash
the gullible spit-seller
the dewey-eyed sweetwater whip crack
pulled by night porter
to throw weight around
where skinny shavers crawl but
don't let me
mislead you
i believe the only faulty step
performed by scalpel on praise
was the first one
that slipped the fall as bounce
behaved by push
speaking of i am now on my way
to the front of the train
a perfectly symmetrical walk
back to the point where people rush
before they decide
how to leave what was always in motion
TO LIVE AND DIE BY THE GOLDEN SHIV
you know what, you gonna regret
don't call me, when i have my guys
do you hear me, when my guys are over
for lunch, you hear…can i say something
can i say…wait a minute, okay…what it is
huge kids, what i say…wanna be that
the way it's going, big talk…what i say
but listen…it goes back, to what i'm asking
to do, what this is, i come back
guy tells me, do that…what else
nothing else, what to do…listen, you go first…i go personal
don't ever go personal…listen i'm a guy
i see where you're going, see what i'm saying
but i'm gonna tell you…never go personal
if you go personal, you gonna get
listen…when i left, my mother left…my family left
look, what i say, is never go personal…don't leave
don't put…family don't matter…never
i will never go personal…if i go personal…i'm gonna tell you
cuz look, you seem upset…i like you, you know why
because it's upsetting…i been one…and when i get there
i don't like you…but i come back up…tell you
some personal thing…look…listen, you want my friendship
i dont know what you want…if you have a doubt with me
i'm gonna have a doubt with you…i don't care
what i say, listen…what i don't have
can i say something…what it is…like something personal
don't ever…is what i'm asking, okay…
BLANK AS BLANK AS BE
it is not who we are
as everyone
is their own we are — pulled apart
at the core
by the edge
° ° °
for the callers
finding language — finding
not and what not does —
to finding
what find does
to language
it is not
what stays
that defines you
— what goes
that finds you
is the not step
the one
that takes you
where the other won’t
the one that won't
is not
the one you want
you want
the not
not
the want
° ° °
i came to a wall of water
eye'd by explosion, caught
by fractured night — i took in the full moon
less a man than me, vision seek
by quarter noon — i took in the higher ride
shut by door drawn free — i spoke
in light-filled essences, broader strokes
than me — my lower tree
climbing with me, open a man
to climb inside him
form a limnless tide at center —
who dared leave a seat, out on this road
along galaxy's rimshot — i took in
release, for a go at free
° ° °
taken by night
my ribbons, my eyes in flux
… whatever edge
… tells me
… is the one i am
ours
is but the lesser invasion
—the heated states of hands, of feet
… rota … rota … rota
… round … round … round
… inbreath
(stay)
… inbreath
° ° °
dot here, dot there, to again the again,
and there, the dot and here
caught one, again to gain the here
to dot the there — and over, one more
one other, dot to dot, to gain again, its dot
its own here, to be, its here
— to open here, i walk between now
and there — a call, that arrows my hearing,
that falls my here, after my i —
lose two letters, replace o and w, make
blank i am
inside
the half quarter light
a blank dot
the full man
— scrape tree off sky
sky dot
climb eye, spoken
scrape the seeping man —
i dot
— here
dot there — between
my lower tree
inside
the start that leaves us — sees
our dots that star
the dots we are
