i want to write another poem,
but i have to go to sleep.

know it

maybe drink more water than empty belly,
let you touch my thighs like he does,

carve the history of a wild tree,
lady i could name all of these forests

with my sharper teeth, choice for the sex
or i didn't know what kind of boy i would be

before my girl hands said, ya know
maybe we could be manly man hands

& i took a hammer
to mend
them.

gumming a cold thing

& then you read a poem
because or, because not enough of a reason,

don't get it,
but you like it so, you love this man,

cute in the teeth,
or those jaws talk funny-- speak,

but it peaks in the right places,
feels good on my fingers, lickin'

& you read the poem he writes, right?
well enough
to get it. turning out to be--

lessons

a beach or where i stay for ever,
you say that might be a long time--

it's cold but the gull seems to like it,
pelican, im loose for the perfect world

or i could be smart, i sound like a smart
person, find yourself obese in a bathing suit,

because it stretches, the pockets look like--
bigger pockets, pools of pockets & empty

the way drowning victims
think they can do anything
the day before.

farming

it is important, can we agree to do--
making a point to, point to do.

walk & walk, say things like:
i am tired of all this silly walking,

maybe i could just sit, live sitting,
make a living out of all this ground,

play for awhile in your dirty, get dirty,
feel the darker dirt thick in the nails,

& then someone tells you
that you smell good,
like growing things.

cat poem

by the way your small girl legs skinny through
an awkward short or two, sand covered

a beast for each cat you name, slay one
or notice why the pope is framed above us.

i could spend more time watching you from behind
in small rooms, or feel a sunburn cool,

because i laugh when you say: swear words--
fly my plane across africa again, & again.

would risk my ankles
to see you,
in my driveway.

shotgun

dangerous names i say, hello lady
or by the way i was with, with it

greener but it smells olive drab,
taste the small tomato later, when

we aloped in southern indiana
by a statue of military savants, i joked

about the laws that we could break,
smoking things before we say

words like, for sick &
i bet
you never saw me again.

angeles

small sexless boy thing dangles in sun beams, you
look at stars & feel silly for an open mouth on you.

why the 'comes out's don't sound angelic; a bathrobe
meant to be tied, blue but darker blue when wet,

or white skin looks fat when you fold, pretty like
groove the small blonde hairs together to fur it.

send telepathic e-mails to the brain accounts
of simple minded hunter-gatherer types, maybe laugh &

let the message kindle
while you take jerk-motion steps
through the air.

more of a mother figure,
another finger,
bad ass mother,
figure.
more of a bad ass,
than a mother figure.

take your tight braids; unbraid into manly manes.

open

take out the bones to skull
them; make your naked parts feel nude.

do not deliberately watch-- nipple hang
inches above the cloudy bath water,

notice your neck curl around my wrist or
so the blood stays, room temperature palm

rough from the working & dead when it digits.
count the times: heel was a signal,

leave the sock on when i sex you.
i am going to say that again,
when--

snow

an arm of tree shadow dangle
bird peck through seed of skin

bent over autumn sky wing deep
thick curly beard for the knowing

but in the know breaks each twig
scare off the mother so we dine

blue jay face pecks the shell free
making a feast of neighbors babies

or the new moon says things like
i forgot
your name, bite then.

falcon

old folky baby, talk this way, humming
when you're naked, let me see you shine.

heave the dead brush through the air,
a pick up truck full of things we picked up.

tell the kids you put too much sugar in their drinks,
ask them how old they are on their birthday.

so the broke neck turns finally caught you
by the hems of your sewed pants elastics.

know that the leather seat is skin
or that it sticks to you the way
my words cannot.

rose

maybe i'm sorry, or maybe it's too late
baby,

can i just coach you this time, can i just say
hey let me in,

maybe i bet too much on me,
or maybe i forgot to bet too much on me, me

keep questions in the question box
or who is next in the question box, to box

maybe i should just be liked & thanked for being
too sure of a sure thing, or
maybe i was just too damn good in the first place.

ate ate

going to eat the spit off the spit
going to watch you slide slowly down
going to take bigger bites of your big thighs
going let all thats left swim around

born in three places to tell you yours
a heart & your home, they go together

& so on

i'm not really sure if i can die in this box
the smell of christmas trees or fake trees

my angry hands or dot in the center of my hands
hands me the passing on of many other dots

send me the check in the mail, or send me to hell
in a hand basket made of my hands &--

so i'll sing you a good song
or i'll see a sad song

because i don't have any good ideas,
because those things don't pay for themselves,

or you know what you got for xmas
because you asked for it specifically

season

my father was always poor & is,
or is always. as am i. she says

that i am boyish, refering to my hands.
my poor hands. i wonder how long i will remain:

boyish, or if i can come to terms with--
my grandfather, or his father was once

boyish as well, in the face or with no hair
in places that boys are sometimes surprised

to find things suddenly appear
the way turkeys jump out of tall grass
when you shoot at them with your hands.

arms poem

my arm is a part of my fathers arm
so on, they are all partially arms.

all arms are partially your arms
which is why, or why we are at arms.

the length of an arm at arms length
measures distance from my arm to my other arm.

my arm, partial in arm, connects
to the other part of my arm on my arm.

they work this way in unison
one arm around your waist, the other too,
while we dance slowly, listening to nothing.

bike poem

your lips, or i told you to see those
lips of yours, rolling on bicycle wheels.

i tend to tend to those lips
but did i mention or mean to, mean

a partial description of your parting lips
around these partially parted parts

a gear crank costs me so much money
did i tell you that, to those lips

for your bike part to be a part, partially
to part with my lips, i call mine
because i have stolen them from your face.

birthday

molest an idea of your creation, bone in his chests chest--
just because i gnaw on your bones
does not mean there was once meat here.

i expect there to be far more provisions in my next lifes life--
if i remember your name then, i will kiss the word
where ever i see it.

i am too far in to what i am going to die for; my death,
a small place on your neck to rest in.
& sheppards were warned i would be there--

so that i might comfortably die again,
smoother than the entrance,
or why i begin to find mirrors to remember me,

changing more frequently than this slow earth
despite hearing constantly when it will die, & when it was born.
but it sits in the sunlight for millions of years
while we effortlessly move up & down by the moon.