forty %: 2005

aspect/whole

in proximity the singing is too much
the resonance rings to cracking

it's been two years
the less i care about it
the less i care about everything

"see now you can't start fights like ya used to mikey
you only got one hand!"

they all laughed and i raised my tallboy
and i danced like a monkey on the pool table
and loved the way liza looked at me
her face bathed bronze in the lamplight

screwed

to recover the imagined
brief and decidual

with horror hang
accessories on porcelain

stable

it was warm

a peace implicated
outside time
granted no refusal

power lay etched
in imaginary boundaries
its existence threatening

america/world

reflexively lips curl bulbous over teeth
more, her breath hot, she says

slavery

if you have more than you need
you are profiting from misery

yes you
fucking loser

as it comes, always

at this intersection, of light, of
sound of character and desire, of
dew-ridden gossamer heavy in city heat,
we will reveal everything, the underneath of
the messy thing, the fetid soil of dissatisfaction
and unchecked want.

either way, the story tells itself.

recursion in artefaction

when the razor barbed flywheel severs
and flies off the rails
who will clean up after?

downfold

bellies full of fire
hands a tremulous quiver
mouths poised to hail heaven
fat with implicit awareness
here we are

but first:
lightning so brilliant it burns
permanence in instance

so much changes so quickly
in thunderclap wake
there is only the long last
exhaustive rasp against silent sky

rapture answers praise with oblivion

the word place,
as in to be in one,
ceases to have meaning

swallow

fresh air like razors
the moon a giant gash
waiting to swallow me
and i am called along

amovore

all that she had
was all the love in the world

with that she hoped
to stave off hunger
at least until morning

stars

more firm
firmament of bone

than sallow flash
of near bright sun

than distant twinkle
of deprecated constellations

solicits desirous

you're in the database
out of greed

the future works
what story?
the fantastically obese and the ordinary
overspill

serpentine strokes of color
blurring to tv set approximation

you need not pay attention
everything is out of control

do you want to be happy?

this is free

sticky
we peeled apart
lay drying, cold in sunday sun

i don't blame him, you said

lazed and fucked, we
lazed and fucked
another hour

trying to corner enigma without angles

what drowns moths in questions
impossible chased sans sympathy
in pursuit of where
awaiting apprehension of when

tossed in tempest
turning and down
and over and down
terrified
remember me

the tiniest evil

from boom to bust and back
a gyre's ambit ever narrows
halfing and halfing into infinite approximation
legions reflected in the seamless gaze

chronochromata

empty places blare at me the way your absence does

eyes drawn to every where you are not
every day is a revolution around
the hole where you used to be

leaving me where sand met water
and the world rocked aqua for a second
everywhere heavy with the tint of blue

i want this, or the outline at least

an aspect of breakage

there she was -
screaming silently all her facets
worthy, each in its distraction of description

but the worlds overwhelmed me

that happened a long time ago
and there's a more accurate way of putting it:
the knowledge of the words overwhelmed me

in their absence, experienced previously
i found nothing to fear
and only a room which housed hunger

as inevitably hunger housed me

forty %