charge

the tv is confusing my i love yous
the still neck    the same
slamming    don’t tell you to stop or
anything just frown for hours
run down a hill     

that hill’s a bitch

he said from on top of us  
don't hate it don’t hate i
don’t feel oppressed or
anything today just
afraid  

i wanna be back on that deck
and watching the lightning
it hasn’t stormed so good
in the intervening years    our marriage
solved the tree problem
but created an electricity problem

This Poem is Titled Mystery Woman

Only respond to one person only
one at a time. I’m saying Go.

Get.
lay yourself down.
Don’t build

a fire you can’t rely on. Dire.
Hate.    
Dire.      
Boldly. Don’t
have to be pretty enough or

go slow Smooth
like cream. Smooth
like sheets. Smooth
Like motherfucking Rob Thomas.

I stage it. You’re supposed to think we’re in love

via picture.  Look at us.  Looking each
at an other.  It’s a rude thing to ask  
“can I stick my dick inside you?” I’m eating
to keep from saying the other rude things.  
Did you have trouble walking through
the hallways in school. Did you have trouble 
asking for a padlock.  Eventually
I did it.  I was wearing gym clothes
under overalls and a t-shirt.  I thought it looked
like jeans and a t-shirt.  Really I’ve been ruining
my own life, bleeding from go-nowhere vein things.  
I don’t know if there’s something wrong with everyone,
but it’s somewhat helpful to think “oh my brain wiring’s
making each day such a struggle.”  I can imagine
being a real human, but I can’t quite embody it.  
I look in the mirror and I’m a little drunk
and my eyes are such a pretty color.  
We’re play acting.  I am.  Did you like it.  
Do you like what I’m doing.  
I said I’m pretty goddamn sure
I have aspergers.  And I’m pretty good
at masking it.  I can compensate.  JUST LOOK
AT MY COPING MECHS.  Here, be pretty.   Here,
be a bravery. You don’t have to think
about where to look at the yes.

Goose Love

buttoning your shirt
you’re a beauty
are biting my shoulder

come about it when i think

walk hand in hand to create
the sort of goose love gets you
through the middle

we made a fog up
walked around in it

We were twisting and eating overripe strawberries
from the vines in your backyard.  I see houses
when I close my eyes.  When I wake up
I'm thinking about my finances.

My car stops working and evaporates around me.
My car stops working and we have to drive in neutral
for 3 miles to get home.  My car slowly disappears
and I'm pushing against ground, trying
to make the frame move, but it's gone.


There was a driveway
leading into the strawberry patch.
We had everyone over
for duck and potatoes and gravy.

Feelings Poem

I know ultimately fucking
Jess Feltz and Justin Flowers
in that dream doesn't mean I want
to fuck you most. Nightmare
sexual scenarios vs normal
sexual scenarios. You
taking a bug leap.  Me deepthroating.
The joyful expression on somebody's
face. Facets. Leaning over the desk
or sink. We used to fuck on objects
and I don't want to try anyone else
if it makes me sick inside. Sink inside
I'm burning and not in the burbs anymore.
Still singing that song. Eyes stinging.
I love you or I am in love with you
is what lust does. And lost us.  Here I go
ol mourning corpse again. Fearing.
Accepting. I'm riding it all fr you baby.
Yum yum. Rub a little ointment down
Ah that's the spot
where once we sat and talked.
I've been writing about you since before
I died and moved to hell.  I want
to have my bra off but I couldn't. A pain
in the split of my back bones. Do u think
I'm prez material. RU thinking
I'm pretty.

This Fruit is Bad for You

I GUESS I WILL EVENTUALLY ALIENATE EVERYONE.  
I’LL BE EATING TWO EGGS EVERYMORNING. FRUIT
IS BAD FOR YOU. THIS ROTTING
FRUIT IS BAD FOR YOU. DON’T TAKE ME TO YOUR CONTAINER. I KNOW
HOW TO GET THERE. I KNOW THE POLICE
THEY GET YOUR BIKE BACK. SOMETIMES
WRITE REPORTS ABOUT KOI FISH. I BET IT’S HARD
TO BE POLICE. I STILL DON’T GIVE A FUCK.
IF YOU TRY TO GIVE ME A TICKET BECAUSE I COASTED
OFF THE ROAD AND TO THE RACK, WE WILL RIDE
TOGETHER FOR 8 HOURS AND WE WILL WONDER
WHAT THE OTHER’S REALLY THINKING. FRUIT IS BAD
FOR YOU. THIS ROTTING HONEYDEW IS SEETHROUGH.

GET EXCITED ABOUT CUTLASS

I am excited about what's happening on Cutlass.

Opening: do I need to massage my dog

This is a blog about my dog vomiting.

I have nightmares

about it. You barely

dream. While I'm over here

counting.

Sharing the article

about two Asperger kids

with love on. Kept using

the term coefficient.

MY GLASSES

ARE DEAD.

Have you seen

the Girl with the Dragon tattoo yet?

This a blog about Justin

Patton Oswalt's special is playing

This is a blog

about my dog vomiting

THERE IS NO PRETENDING

Mary Jo Bang

There is no pretending to know

What crawls out of the mind lying quiet

By itself in the snow of the grave grass.

The living know this alone:

The onomatopoetic fout-ta-ta-rou of the mitral valve

Inferred but not felt by a mind that has left

Itself to others. Decisionless and dull, I am one

with the glass-bound aluminum clouds

In a glitter-knitted metallica sky. I live on

The bit of air that follows a door's night close

And the dusky base of the thumbnail that darkens

As it presses down on earth fading away beneath

It. Pax, peace. Axe, beat

Of the heart and its dumb numbered afterecho.

UGh

"ugh"

beets.

there's one shriveling in a pot on the porch. dreamt i dug it up

and just kept digging. juicy soft red red magenta. beet upon beet upon beet.

i had 5 or so. i took a dog

to the movie theater.

weeded the garden. saw a large earth

toned monarch-style butterfly. cicada

terror. no banana peppers because of.

tugboat reading

potato mosquito

photos and videos

Sauce

It’s disingenuous to boil like that and so quickly
at the blues bar a lady asked the boy to a Waltz
while the cello was going On and On about stars

When we knew one another we knew best
A barbecued brisket Knew how to tenderize
everything


Sauce

There’s no fur to grow to hide behind there’s no way
to make this something acceptable I say

I want to move in with my lady friend and grow some mushrooms
on a log. They come like that
on the Internet you can grow
Portabellos or anything you can read
Literotica

Eat apples Eat gummy apples


Sauce

Gifts are a passive aggressive act
is the best insult you’ve ever come up with.
Do you change the color of a fabric
simply by touching it. Can you put something
like bless your heart in a document.
Your face is an oil slick.

Sauce

I’ve got a mouth full of barbecue sauce. My teeth
are the raw onions. Every time I hang out with KT

I make her go to the mall with me. I brush my teeth.
I eat the dog. This sauce is smelling up every house

we’ve ever had. I opened my mouth
let some blood out.

The cereal still went in. It’s only
that corner keeps ripping

a poet in lincoln

maybe if i update my blog more
i'll come to be considered
a poet or figurehead.
if i keep paying rent
i can feel like i own something.
get rid of a sourness.
annihilate. dream
bottomless jacuzzis.