Tagged: love

Candida

it is hilarious now – later
we will find it harder
you will cut off your ears
in the tub

your heart will hurry
to the places it’s been, a
note tied to its leg
what if the quiet place

in your mind vanishes, or
worse, is given to someone else?
for now though, this is us
this is a city

that tells us about Jesus
that calls when the grass
is too long, stops calling
when the grass dies off from sun

where the ice cream truck
does circles, donuts
do your ears hang low
til the occasional BOOIIIOIIINNGG

or HEELLOOO?! we lay
in its sound, having just licked
each other, perpetual lawn mower
I guess the gears of the world

dairy for the diligent whackers
and every house, broken in
on champagne, with its windows
smiling through a baby

under expansion, like most things
built to withstand fire
herds of bison, winter, crop
shortages and floods

termites, outages of power
the way things are
underneath, before eventually
there is a die off

a long low moan without
complaint, the REMEMBER ME
of life that has taken hold
bugs in two dimensions

a flattened Earth, holding
more of us, all at once
if she is trying to say something
we wouldn’t know

she is collapsed upon. so
we move forward
with the old way in which
you’re allowed to replace yourself

Thirty

I was standing in line with you
when I passed out, fainted
I guess, and woke up
on the floor

I remember feeling
guilty, like I had overslept
and how different
you looked

appearing over me, like
a mother, or a god
both perfect
and impatient

my elbow hurts – I realize
I must have fallen on it
you say I may have fallen forward
if it hadn’t been for you

how lucky – I am grateful
– I am weak – I am
let down gently – I am
long to see

the security footage
in which your calmness
plays out like a silent film
in which

the faces of the embarassed
become everyone, black
and white, at each moment
assigned a time

SWAT

woke up drenched again, not
dreams, not raining, who knows
– there’s a resiny
imprint of me
on my mattress –

I go through what I ate
when, the withdrawal symptoms
of things like caffeine
pot, what I’m wearing
sleep positions, if
I should shower before

maybe my matress is a valley
my blankets roads
I overheat, sweat
become cold, pull them up

to wake unsure
where the water came from
if it’s water at all, or just salt
if while sleeping, I’ve
been swimming, and
barely made it back to shore

How to Release Dead Animals

it is hot and windy. your face
is probably covered in hair
your body out

I am reminded of the animals
I’ve kept, many of which
have died in my care – snails, toads,
spiders clearly dead

some had been melted
in tupperwares in which
I had also caught a star
now back into the wild

unable to throw them away
unsure of their use now, as they
no longer moved in my room
unsure of where it was
I had found them

running away, around
this whole time, open
mouth against clear
sloped walls

even the rocks I’ve kept, like
tears hidden up my nose
or in my ears
I’ve wanted to keep forever
my ultimate stubbornness
to be an everything-sized cage

to be your whole world
suddenly my mouth is full
I set the dead on the knape
of the Earth, an armadillo
rooting its vast, known circle
flinching, closing

the dead to skitter off one day
the Earth to have rings
the dead to die again and
again, having lived

again I am unsure about
the size of the world
where the color goes
on captive animals

why they feel different
how they could have died

if I can love something
without having to have it

Orion

If you lay in snow
and I lay in snow
even with the same moon
as headboard, the electricity
wouldn’t travel, the water
too densely packed
I feel that way today
Both in our underwear, separately
in the city. You walking
from Planned Parenthood to yoga
Me having worn
the wrong clothes to work
now bathing in the spillway
We have no gas for water
We named a cat Fuel
Each man presents
his best self, the
6-month awoken blood stem
You unlock something in me, he says
It was not there before
You make me want to be
a better man
A star falls on
the roof of the Whole Foods
Limp herdling, fallen star, by
definition not that great
of a star, but hot enough
Men burn their tongues
try to recall
what they were doing before
just to have you say it
have you pull it out
The long steel draw
approachable temperature
a star just being friendly
holding it
lighting their eyes
But stars are forever away
maybe they have already died
Hollow pots in headphones
reading, crying
fillable with dust
White hot rage. That is why
boys chase girls
We just can’t take it anymore

Harvey

the cab drivers
pull into gas stations, enticed
by the light of zeros
such brightness
meaning nothing, all out

I pick oil off the water
I pick oil
there is always some left
at the bottom, or
stripped up the sides
fucked and left stranded
like the coast
its beautiful lazy
endless versions

I’m trying, but each time
fucking is like flying – There is
more or you die
there is oil
it makes boats of birds
I flap

What could happen any minute
and the minutes lost
probably off somewhere
the drive up coast
its bolted down furniture
no walls
or else these paper thin ones

tonight I dreamt a jaguar
too hungry to hunt, was drowned
by the heron
lifted away
eaten someplace quiet
on the rocks

down the hallway
until the heron was stretched full
of hair and bone
holding its gut
sloshed to sleep by the moon
her great blue stomach
the sea

& Countless Other Things

        in my room there are four praying
mantises, two tarantulas, one puppy,
        two people

        matter is neither created nor
destroyed, but some things are small enough
        not to exist until culminated

        sex flicked off tables,
fingernail plate armor, dust bunnies,
        the occasional bird

        squirrels who gnaw 
the owl box
         back into the trunk

        the tree that fell so we
could stand before it, thinking
       through tunnels

        addressing dead starlings,
the consecutive order of ants,
        whether or not

        we should have seen it coming
upright decay on which
        we strung lights

        instead we watched it going
wilting & sopping
        but still holding up dinner

        for us, as much as anything
to get drunk & watch come
        creatures returning with tape

        inseparable to the earth
as if nothing could be greater
        than to be put in its misery