william smith

so i am useless; flag
a dead answer
little boys had gone to war before

the first
if so, say so
and i am yours

news of nepoleon's --
news of my grandfathers death i
black prince
muse of buffalo new york

watch maps for viet nam to form
wait for rocks to evolve
into gods
mouth organ
tooth brush

swing sling in perfect shape
until the pebble shakes goliath

the city is afraid of you
getting pretty
skinny boy chest

your mystery
not dark tower of manhattan

not the too many words you said
or say
i am dying
and a flag is covering my body

say
where are you now
and why do i still see snow

I AM AN ANIMAL

she said i was made of 'pure
money'
before i exploded
i'm
going to drive
again
put rims on my exoskelly

i'm an animal baby
baby
i'm only worth a few dollars
a few
billion dollars

until i eat all the gold
from the gold mines
in rich teeth

bite your mouth
an accidental fractured clavicle
i can't squat bones
w/o shaking

stop this bucking buckhorse
with bone spurs
the shape of your fuckshaped feet
i'm walking on two

call me every morning
between 3 and 5 am
to tell me how much you miss my voice
darling

my voice is a flap of skin
stretched like fat pants
make plans to count the sugar in me
so my diabetis doesn't start

your plans are socialist
my voice is socialist
barack obama is not a socialist

everything i say is true
as words
as these poemwords won't mean
as much to me
as what they mean in my brain right now

i'm going to start taking supliments
supliment the gaps
in my braincage
think ribs
or tasty meat clings

or dead mammal things
the nails and hair and the shit afterwards
still shaking

do you have something for my hands

read online
someone said they would ask for indian food
indian propper
so the jailhouse cleaners have to clean up
a horrible mess

but the horrible mess is a messbody
the shell of your heartsoul
the thing that burns
in a bucket of fire
an underground oil lake

for days on twitter
people say RIP
like tearing away a page of a person
is death

or the sun exploding is death
or i just don't exist anymore
except on a page

dead but i am in another page place
does this mean
i can call you
at 3am

to say nothing
does this mean

i can do anything.

I AM AN ANIMAL

lost in my own wilderness
small dust
snow ball

i think i may be animal
or beast god
or short fuse

spark like sun god
throw fire
magma rains from my finger heaven

animal brain of chaos
wanting nothing
to do with the sun

or any form of creator
leaves me
blown away with wind blowing

and more wind
for my dust left-overs
moon landing

let the hair grow thick
for my hibernation
lick the fat from my skull shape

taste meat in heart
know what it means
to eat anything else

if i can stomach the love
or the kill or be killed
desperate living

know based off all the other animals
that die
i will die

i will explode into a billion dollars
i will be nothing
i am nothing

sea shells

or leave me
burried in glass bits

i was once in the ocean you know
a part of this shark mouth

i used to tear through chum
i once saw this couple of humans
in a cage

there was all this chum
and i ate it while these idiots watched me

i didn't even try to eat the people
they were already locked up
in a cage
under water

i figured they'd die eventually

she sells

it is in the being
found
much to be a shark tooth
small black
jaw piece
not much different from the other
teeth scattered
along the gulf beach
where a girl in a bikini
takes you home
and glues you to something

LONG HAIR

not a body

not the son of a man

not the boy in love again and again

not a man

not cells and soul and shit

not a mouth saying what you hear i say

not this idea

not that idea

not a carcas to put in the ocean

not shark food

not a puzzle of bones

not guts

not a father of nothing

not smart

not a believer in another place

not the greenest green

not even green at all

i am just energy filling up a small point
waiting to explode
like anything else
unlike all of this endless nothing
but i imagine it to be
colorful, or maybe just pretty to see

LONG HAIR

crop circles baby blue
eyes on man
in wet skull

feel the wheat fall
heavy nuggets of gold
aware of it's worthlessness

sink ship
next to desert island
or me

i never could be anything
other than a young boy
i hope

there were smashed pears
on the sidewalk
last year

i hate the winter
freezing to death
nothing but dark and liquor

is there really an ocean
can i surf
anywhere

look up and take a picture
of me flying
long rope of hair around my neck

don't blink
i am going to vanish
at cloud height

keep going i guess
through waves of drunk moon air
inbetween my teeth

i can feel you somewhere below
walking around
making shapes with your distance

and i'm going
lost in the world's wilderness
or else a space for my body shape

a branch breaks again

into another branch
named twig and twig
truncated tree thing

leaves it
for the ground to swallow

not afraid of the wind
or the death of anyone it knew,
love

or it moves on
grows up

any small thing becomes a smaller thing
quotes infinity
tells the body stories of immortality

death in senses
feeling the rain
feeling the rain stop

SHARK MEAT

shiny city thing of concrete
moves like bait
fresh un-killed


fill the ocean with carcas chunks

make all the beautiful slant faced feeders
come


little hands pick through blasted planet parts
who moves mountains
the way the magma rolls

fill my bucket w shark teeth
thinking i will write several poems about this
when it's time

trace fingers through the jelly-fish
on the beach
feel the alien sting child skin

just hoping
to be part of something
the way
sand is a part of the moon

glass

scattered space out of it
felt the sliver
in your foot
felt the window inside of your body

look,
i am surfing silver
streaks across
the blue shiva
or colorless water as running

shed the shards out
pissing cubes of crystal
from my open mouth.

glass

dune-sea lop the head
of mountain
of tall rocky jut
lava
swell
as i am forming
peak
through the looking

sand-see the weight lifting
out of my brain cage
building
see-thru walls
thin as the atmosphere

cracks from my chirping
cicada singing
exoskeleton was never heavy
just
is gravity
just is


glass

throw magma stones
sand-dune i am watching the shift
float each grain wave

rolling huh,
foamy ground.

my shark teeth tuned
better than my chainsaw poem
mouth as it eats

my memory
my respect for where i 'came from'

collecting my own jaw
off the beaches of nebraska

watch it move
the way my dream girl moves

sweep sea, boom
underwater, or underneath an ocean.


surfing waves

my body screams cicadas
wave as it smooths to beach
length is my longing

hold head under water until
it breathes

she is a sea lion
walking rocks
as the hurt is made
believe

or crash
as in the noise it makes
when my body feels the weight of galaxy


for paul and the people who touch his chest

i begin to understand why i love you before my brain quits working
i dont like nicknames
but she can call me whatever she wants
she can call me paul or ira or karate as long as she leans up
and kisses me again
or is she or is she or is she
the pronouns are fucked up here
i'll say i miss ellie pegler
i'll say there are a cool million drunks in this bar
or these suitors just beg the same
i'll say i can't even say
or that i remember details of everything
the way she paused
or im running away by just being here
but i'm laying on the floor awake all night the way my dad used to do that
my ribs are broken
i think my chest brain jumped out
it's running too
my heart read this book about running
my life is almost a romcom but it's just funny
the way my nerves fuck up everything i do
like wearing socks in my boat shoes the last night i saw her
or letting it rain
but when she touched my chest
i hit the space
bar a few times
can't even say that grin or that devil or that beautiful lady
sings songs in my liver
builds mountains of poems for surfing up purposes
i never finished that short story about that room
i never finish anything
except poems
i can't even quit quitting
or begin to quit without picking up another nose candy
or blowing my chest brains out with car parts
he ran me over man
i guess thats karma
i guess i said i deserve this
but i can't sleep now i'm just sitting here writing a poem
with entourage season one playing
but it's not even playing it's just the menu
and thats what i mean
that's why i almost moved to brooklyn without thinking
because if i think
a big white jeep will crush my rib cage
if i think i'll miss small moments with a girl
if i think the universe becomes enormous
and i might forget where you are
i might not see you again for a very long time
i might start writing poems like schomburg
or think i need to be more silly
or think i need to rap more explicitly
or think 72 twitter followers aren't enough
or think these pills won't last the weekend
or drinking might actually make me sad
or you leaving and me leaving is scary
or that i love everyone who touches me
i never meant the body
in all my poems with all these bodies
i never meant it literally
i mean it


cocaine

weigh my weight in body parts like math talk
and go for the heavy arms first or the other heavy arms

never said my brain would work faster than the sun moves
or faster than movies come out about the same fast movers

and crash crash like you could worry as much as i worry
or think that being awake is less of a step towards dying

and sun shows up again without the warning of smoulder smell
while you consider how many words will rhyme with spider-bite

or how many swear words you can write and erase and write
or how many birds do that thing where you can stay in the sky


infinity

the best poem in the world is written every day

when i watch tapes of early 90's eastern conference playoff games

like the knicks vs the knicks vs the knicks vs everybody else

john starks is a villian

today is the best day of his life because he isn't losing any game sevens

today is the best day of his life because he is still livin'

today john starks wrote the best poem in the world

it's called why i love every square inch of new york city

or why i love every woman that touches me

or why i love gardening

or something that has nothing to do with love

or green things like green backs, more and more of them

raising the debt roof literally

by stacking up your big men and their big green backs

until you can actually slam dunk on the moon like magic johnson

or the teeth of magic johnson

his smile holds onto the sun's energy

and cures everyone of any disease

which is the best poem in the world

until paul clark wrote the best poem in the world

until kyle crawford wrote the best poem in the world

until i wrote another love poem

until magic johnson smiled again, this time wider

which is hard to fathom.


31 July 2011
cigarettes

i cant clean myself the way you clean yourself
i cant ride the fair rides like you obviously want to

i will throw up down my body
or shit my diapers

i wont do heroin
no matter how many times i mess my pants

i cant feel anything
my heavy arms are dragging on the earth

i hugged paul the first time i met him
but now he just sits in his room being a babe

i gamble every day by livin'
but i guess the odds are stacked after all this stacking

my arms piled on my arms
knuckles mapped out to knuckle gaps

my clean skin covers the filth
my monster face facing the face things you have

or i say im sad all the time
or i say im in some sort of love line

my chest is a brain cage
i like to walk for infinity walking

say things like anything
or act like money is no object

but everything has a limit
even the number of hugs you can take

the number of times i will say do what you want
and it hapens to be what i was hoping you'd do

or it happens that you can actually put up with my hiding
in words and nothing and words that are nothing

what im saying is
what im saying is
written by justin ryan fyfe at 02:33 0 SHOTS
30 July 2011
facebook friend 19

man i am a fox
man i tree for the foresting
know the woman can too
know the woman is a travel
sing about the bird things
sing about how wheat sounds
like this in the air thing
or this whistling bread maker
or how my river
is a wanting
and all the washing off will not work
until the grass is unmowed
for three or so years
and all the people i miss are forgotten
written by justin ryan fyfe at 19:35 0 SHOTS
facebook friend 18

say i am spicer or baby orca
freeing the question of who the hell are
any of us
the vitamin man the carter list
like vince carter jumping over people
to score two points
its called showmanship
its called a slamma jamma
and it ends the way this poem should end
with millions of hits on you tube
written by justin ryan fyfe at 19:27 0 SHOTS
29 July 2011
cocaine

weigh my weight in body parts like math talk
and go for the heavy arms first or the other heavy arms

never said my brain would work faster than the sun moves
or faster than movies come out about the same fast movers

and crash crash like you could worry as much as i worry
or think that being awake is less of a step towards dying

and sun shows up again without the warning of smoulder smell
while you consider how many words will rhyme with spider-bite

or how many swear words you can write and erase and write
or how many birds do that thing where you can stay in the sky
written by justin ryan fyfe at 17:46 0 SHOTS
28 July 2011
facebook friend 17

abandon all things in sky
fall from the ice is ice

expand on ground water
or burning churches

or your own face burning
jesus loves you they said

barack obama loves you i said
your hands holding up the sun

you dont even feel the skin cooking
only the smell is a warning
written by justin ryan fyfe at 23:53 0 SHOTS
26 July 2011
fougasse aux olives

how to keep score
watch where the knife runs

cut the cut deep
say things like infinity

keep steam in tightly sealed mouth clamps
tasting every heat wave

surf to the top of mountains
clouds and space count as tall things

you conquer
keeping everyone in last of dark falling

walking safely
where there is no noise behind you

and still nothing
but your own sounds rising
written by justin ryan fyfe at 18:30 0 SHOTS
25 July 2011
infinity

the best poem in the world is written every day

when i watch tapes of early 90's eastern conference playoff games

like the knicks vs the knicks vs the knicks vs everybody else

john starks is a villian

today is the best day of his life because he isn't losing any game sevens

today is the best day of his life because he is still livin'

today john starks wrote the best poem in the world

it's called why i love every square inch of new york city

or why i love every woman that touches me

or why i love gardening

or something that has nothing to do with love

or green things like green backs, more and more of them

raising the debt roof literally

by stacking up your big men and their big green backs

until you can actually slam dunk on the moon like magic johnson

or the teeth of magic johnson

his smile holds onto the sun's energy

and cures everyone of any disease

which is the best poem in the world

until paul clark wrote the best poem in the world

until kyle crawford wrote the best poem in the world

until i wrote another love poem

until magic johnson smiled again, this time wider

which is hard to fathom.
written by justin ryan fyfe at 17:48 0 SHOTS
movement

when i walk through doors i think about people
gossipping about me walking through a door

how i swing, swing and the swinging
wanting a long walk home

they literally killed him
and then they revived him

i cannot speak for the hand holders
or the sweat they put up with

cannot stand standing on an escalator
though i prefer it to sitting

i was just on the slowest elevator in the universe
it was like flying slow

ok, i'll go or get going
i can see where i'll be is elsewhere
written by justin ryan fyfe at 16:19 0 SHOTS
oh hi

in a crowd any alone seems to amplify by no sound

on a highway line roads and roads and roads blur with speeding

seperate from every living thing, and wind

faster than human, or the animal moves

in outter space air is not air, but breathing

under the sun you are held to spin faster than dying

beneath night is just another time as if you keep track

even if my now is not always your now

in my hand is a waiting

in my heart is a new thing

catapulted by gravity, one moon to smile shining

or some atmosphere i forgot about until you
written by justin ryan fyfe at 14:16 0 SHOTS
22 July 2011
facebook friend 15

never give up on these greek women
or these california women
or these women

never forget that forgetting is a past time
like baseball
or forgetting how to play baseball

its not about the rules
or the diamonds
or the cleats that you wear

its about sliding face first into dirt
grass stains, spitting
and stealing things if you have to
written by justin ryan fyfe at 16:12 0 SHOTS
simple

as it has died before the moment you're missing
and even with no proof
do the pictures still smile
would you even try to measure the star to star
distance
is a callous
or some mangled foot thing for the walker
slowing down to a crawl
or ever was a baby boy
looking out at the lawn as a distance
or the clouds sitting there in blues
my puppet arms dangle to the faceplant
the sidewalk that wrecked my smile
the city where i loved things
like drinking whisky on the river
or almost dying all the time
compared to most people it's true
i can't swim
but i'll surf all the way to space
where i can just float


kyle poem

and what if nothing was ice, what would you be
there will never be the greenest green
it's all just another tree poem
or tooth tooth

keep whistling
or wind, wind, and the wind washing
off the high desert dust
glued to the lingering soak of nebraska

everytime you kiss them good-bye
they believe what you say about death
holding on to the last second they saw any of you
even the flat plains


facebook friend 13

what does the fog say
about the wanting to keep up with others living

how are your seeing feet these days
with all dog walking eye talkers

know me less and less as the body cools
as the aging takes highways or air

and makes it into a wall thing
or the largest pain in my ass since love


facebook friend 3

does that tiny philosopher fucking the girl you love
know how dark your eyes are
when you stare at the galaxy
it wonders how much space there is
in a man
when you can make yourself happy
let me know what thats like
write a poem for me some time
and title it for tony
i will remember you as something
but i won't promise it to be correct in any way


city poem

yes i'm not the ocean or sea calling
see me at the lava edge my magma feet dance
when the icy ice you are and i am everything
lowers room temperature or makes you sweat less
my glare reflecting off moon air
which smart nose heals this chest brain

no i'm a big city man or know this
any ant can build an eye castle for your reading
any insect can learn to die
under the crushing feet of giants
listen late at night when my westerly face falls
you can hear the exoskeletons exploding


ATL

my south speak got beat out by travel
hiding out in fielded corn crop

but i can still learn how to lie honestly
from civil war memorials

or battlefields or working in the sun
where your entire body hardens in bake

but my poet hands or boy touch
wont bruise any leg and elsewhere

and know the rain hasn't stopped falling
since the last time i saw you

my drawling walk and slow eyes
touching my fingers to your sleeping fingers

wanting to see you every morning
with your hair down and nothing else


bows and arrows

with american money i swing my candy filled pockets
at the horrible crying fits i make myself
eager for the excitement you bring to the table
ground water drowning
all the people who drown in drunk driving swims
or if i even feel anything when somebody dies
like when i day dream of my fathers dying
i could be honest or i am only truth things
but the worst thing i have ever done was staying
on the great plains
saying that i can heal my wandering chest brain
or im sorry i ever threatened to leave you
nebraska
where the goddamn dust makes people
shout at moon
wondering why their bodies are shifting
wondering where their parents went when they died
saying im sorry i cant stop the birds from flying
or i dont even know how to use my body
i dont know how to say things i think i mean
my timing is off
to a bad start
my knuckle gaps to knuckles and more gaps
can i say nothing
does the wind blowing and the wind and the wind
chasing my empty stomach
or my empty hands
or full of my shoulders tough meat
chewing it for months still wont break the skin


brooklyn poem

move my arm around your no waist
waste the breath of my kiss speak
speak at you like my inner you
she as an i thing
the fix of my longing
send nude pics of my clothed nakedness
flap my arms wild
like the cowboy me
or the time that im here like a new guy
or the 99 other guys who crush my crushing
say lady i build castles for your eye reading
write poems about what you want out of me
like this standing
like this walking through the worlds earth
taking apart my arm parts
to hold you longer than time goes
or kiss you like a love goes
or going away for the no shower
telling you i dont clean up after my dying
or dying like i can see you again
or seeing you
which makes me dream
dreaming about being something
like my eyes at your eyes



like wilderness

jog long legs toward the sunned sky
follow deer thing with the most beautiful antlers

vanish into the cement by jaw to jaw
to see what i can find inside of your you

teach me how to skin a fish
teach me how to survive city winters

there is no stopping in my mind
steady breathing into the long distance

i can hide in a cave for months
surviving off the fat in my brain


GOLD VOLVO

my god is a demigod
a lukewarm piss i take out of my body
to wash off all the cold piss or hot piss

i got stuck on ground water
or trying to tell the entire state of Idaho
i am a fisherman from the great plains
the great fucking plains

flip the bird
at old ladies who cant drive
write a poem about perfect teeth
or fly like these gold teeth
or collect these shark teeth

sometimes i think about how im dying
and wonder how im dying like this
with my hand down my entire throat
massaging guts

with my soft hands
feeling the cement chips
embedded in my lovely wound
or my happy-scared grin the size of everything


just so you know

i am a boring universe
i am the wind, wind, and the wind blowing
i am inside of myself
i am afraid of everyone
i am in love with storming
i walk away from pain
i am the epitome of dollface
i am the river receding
i am the dirt thirsting
i am the pit of my own pitness
i am watching fireworks
i love driving cars
i am the grass, grass, and the grass growing
i am afraid of the no you
i speak to my hearts health
i am the river flooding
i am the absorbing dirt
i keep quiet in poems
i am going to die
i am the no pain
i will tell you how your glow
makes my chest become a million things
that will never exist


poem thing

i'm struggling to understand my own existence
in the poem, where there is no poem

metal wall, pressing my face against it
to feel the cold move from no skin to skin

teeth become magnetized to what should be said
in the poem, where there is no poem

and questions are mouth moves i don't understand
because my tongue parts won’t stop talking

things fall from things thinging, and scared me
in the poem, where there is no poem

then lightning, then thunder
wind, wind, and the storm forming

thoughts on the night when there is no storm
in the poem, where there is no poem

the three longest rivers on earth

the Mississippi river is long but very poor--
a road of mud that floods & worships Abraham’s god.

the Amazon river is long & full of sharp things--
spends half the year still while small birds walk across.

the Nile is a long river & goes past some pyramids
that were built by aliens several thousands of years ago.

sweater poem

i bought this sweater because i
am in love with you
it cost me 70$
& does not even keep me warm
unless i wear it
in the summer.


kind of pricey

did i tell you i haven't showered today
did i tell you how happy-scared i am

your face looking at my face
becoming a face of it

read you Christmas poems at the back bar
in one hundred degree heat

the liquor makes me sing more
makes me less of a secret

or maybe i'll chain smoke for breakfast
stand where ever you want to see me


to Chicago

a whim & the fog
rolls, i can say what the fog is. where smart cats keep breeding
w/o consequence, & then the kissing words--

knew the sun would return even when there is no sun for miles
or if it took months of walking
so on & a great distance that i can push back
behind your ear

or do i dare city rain to touch us
with house taps--
scare the dog, drops

a letter
written with small bumps only on my arm
often confused with your arms

you will read to me words like hung, & hair lip, push me
back against the wall & i
watch your mouth

then know my hand is now your hand
lost in the land of your hand parts.
hidden by limited vision, & there
people are

& then a reality filled w/ real things such as
people eat, or
can i see pictures of your ugly foot before they changed it.
walking on
hand pads for the feet to rest, i could walk like this for days

w/ you telling me, don't be so silly
my boy hands. hold—soft

maybe more of a man w/ man hands than i want to be
measured by the silence
between the air-conditioning unit click ons and offs

but you don't look where you're going
& pass the nature walk, say blind spot
Iowa rest stops
greener as temporary, as green can be for the garden or
just a damn lucky guy going for the turn-around
& walk back towards the greenless things
that we can talk about
when we talk about

or do i know what i'm doing, with it
said
‘i know why fog is here.’
now, you're softest when the rain hasn't stopped
& a small line can be curved into something
like the dirt of me,
mud spittle
my mouth runs hungry over your collar bone


coffea

gone from where i saw you
or is where i saw you there.

staining things on my hands
now stain the pant legs of my pants.

shower when you might come by;
i do not shower often.

the rich wet dirt you want
is under the hard dry earth.

you put this seed over here, over here
& cherries grow out of me.

fresh fruit

gobble going gets tough
where i leave my skin to skin

in the sun's weather weathered,
leather under where i sun my shaded self

selfish to hide. breeze i can find
seldom despite a shiftless center--

horizon i noticed, the trees are no trees,
but the trees are still planted

i grab you by this neck & this neck
so they tell you the neck is detachable


pioneers

counting bruises oh, are we
apples
sail upon trampled fields
of water wheat
you grow gold w/ your soiled hands
she
drinks & i
drink redberry-wine cold
behind trails of bison bur & Indian grass,
smelling in barberry or
may-apple maybe, we
wait for it
to get dark for
our skin to hide

nest

wild horses draw the head off
you, razor-legs show me
skin of your bite bones
or where the fir trees grow
down to the night-time-water-body, so
i can be a romantic man
talk generic about the places of you:

the off-path covered wagon,
dirt boat
my beard dangling w/ twigs
& prairie flower.
arranged to remind you

visiting

scumming for a like soul
can i breathe your ocean air, Nebraska
cold is colder than your Nebraska.

your copper hair blondes me, gum
your plumb neck. plump my lips from the cement--
i can bite you, modern world, with my fakest face.

the slope of your back with the back hair
goads my hand to nick-it,
can you reach for me.
take away my cape.

fragile in the sense that a man is,
or why i get nerves in my belly when i see you,
a beauty.

call me for a second; call me while i am sleeping.

call me a word like darling
so my fur jumps
& the coats that warm my shaved shoulders
hide great plains from the belly i said.

more, there is an ocean under here,
you can listen
for the train coming. breathe
the air for me,
the jewel of cattle beds.


feel occupation

is what you said or to feel
as if its fur on me
and sounds like rain drops or
all these boys,
always a boy there
grabbing little marshmallow-hands
at a nip,
or things that sparkle,
singular as you
nest at the end of a bar, fully clothed
just
make it work,
the boy says sometime later on
as if words will do

on the slope of Nebraska

in me, Nebraska
shaped the way i see you
just waking on your front side

write you a letter
in my mind
say, i saw you once and remember it

cross the Missouri River again
i always look down
to see what is floating

every thought, you think
i could pretend
not to know what i knew of you

mist, over sand hills
where the cranes
make it back

all this silly travel,
talking about our day jobs
listening to the same sounds

your chin i think,
where the Indian caves are


20 July 2011
facebook friend 6

ask me how to pass a drug test
and i will tell you

smell the bacon smoke
mixing with all the other smoke

think about a thing like
car sex

or borrow the beds
of your best friends

remember that scotch is just scotch
after a certain point
written by justin ryan fyfe at 11:06 0 SHOTS
facebook friend 3

does that tiny philosopher fucking the girl you love
know how dark your eyes are
when you stare at the galaxy
it wonders how much space there is
in a man
when you can make yourself happy
let me know what thats like
write a poem for me some time
and title it for tony
i will remember you as something
but i won't promise it to be correct in any way
written by justin ryan fyfe at 09:10 0 SHOTS
facebook friend 2

i used to delete people like you
as if my emptiness made me less
vulnerable to missing people i don't really know
but who knows anything
fuck the haters i say
let them be in bed with you
let them remember how naked you are
written by justin ryan fyfe at 09:04 1 SHOTS
city poem

yes i'm not the ocean or sea calling
see me at the lava edge my magma feet dance
when the icy ice you are and i am everything
lowers room temperature or makes you sweat less
my glare reflecting off moon air
which smart nose heals this chest brain

no i'm a big city man or know this
any ant can build an eye castle for your reading
any insect can learn to die
under the crushing feet of giants
listen late at night when my westerly face falls
you can hear the exoskeletons exploding
written by justin ryan fyfe at 07:04 0 SHOTS
talk

things and things, as simple
as the city makes you gravy
or what i say
as if saying things
mouth moves and throating tongue
works just fine
but the sounds i make
or the nothings i yell when i yell anything
at moon at travel
at all the distance in the universe
my voice is here
saying prairie lady
then pausing. stop
the sun from sunning
stop my singing chest brain
from making the lonely thumping sound
it makes
written by justin ryan fyfe at 00:01 0 SHOTS
19 July 2011
emits a heavy air of deadpan

LETRIC COLLECTIVE//TUGBOAT READING//ETC


written by justin ryan fyfe at 17:18 0 SHOTS
15 July 2011
get in the pool

suddenly at 70 you just melt
you ancient hill billy
plains ranger flying a dirt boat

my shouts are your melting away
wash off the dust of nebraska
find worthless gold in a heaven place

how wet is your salty mouth
how thin is your entire body
will you just disolve if i wrap myself around you
written by justin ryan fyfe at 21:13 0 SHOTS
14 July 2011
waffles

i inhale the sun and then sun and more

make my words syrup or melting sugar or tree poems

miss my friends

miss myself sometimes

forget to breathe and forget to eat and forget to sleep

air or anything was space and distance

let you know things, the worst things i've done

that i remember

what i'll eat in bed

what i buy at the store at 3am

who i'm talking to about who i want to talk to

not knowing what i'm saying when i sleep

some masculine energy or lady moon beam

shock therapy for my deluded-self

trying to pretend i am the happiest mortal alive

or that this moment

is all there is
written by justin ryan fyfe at 17:21 0 SHOTS
13 July 2011
tides poem

& if my goodnights werent late enough
& if my hellos werent soon enough
& if my goodbyes werent loud enough

the best way to say i miss you
never sounds right

but the moon is closer to me now
written by justin ryan fyfe at 19:19 0 SHOTS
12 July 2011
ATL

my south speak got beat out by travel
hiding out in fielded corn crop

but i can still learn how to lie honestly
from civil war memorials

or battlefields or working in the sun
where your entire body hardens in bake

but my poet hands or boy touch
wont bruise any leg and elsewhere

and know the rain hasn't stopped falling
since the last time i saw you

my drawling walk and slow eyes
touching my fingers to your sleeping fingers

wanting to see you every morning
with your hair down and nothing else
written by justin ryan fyfe at 23:07 0 SHOTS
by normal i mean living

i meant to write something about honesty
like i honestly don't get it
like i'm always telling the truth
because i'm not
sometimes i say things to cover up what i meant to say
i think everyone does that
or i don't know what everyone does
i only know what i do
people won't tell me how to live
maybe they'll tell me when i'm older
like when i've been dead for a million years
someone might say to me out loud
what it really means to be me
because they will know
with all that time to think about it
written by justin ryan fyfe at 13:24 0 SHOTS
ABSOLUTELY NOTHING

i can wait for this poem to be it's being

or i can write a poem every night in my void

but i have already become too meta, or become nothing

kyle asked me what i wanted to do, and i said be in love

which isn't really what i meant but im sure he understands

my words mean absolutely nothing

it's vomit, or if i said ralphing would you understand

i said hey i like jack spicer too

but then you murdered me with your car, just ran my ass over

lets start talking about my ass

i rarely want to have sex with anyone

i have never been realistic

i used to call it making love but that was before i ever fucked

like a break up fuck, like the goddamn Bering Strait

i walk across land bridges only

wouldn't trust a man made bridge if it was built by demigod men

one day there will be no sun

it will just keep getting bigger and bigger like the bones in my face

the sun is a hole in my chest

or my lungs are filling up with water

so i suck fire down my throat, i call these blow jobs

i will hire millionaires to clean out my throat

i will hire millionaires to walk my dog

i will hire millionares to listen to me tell them sad stories

that are really just poems about how i miss my dog

this poem is exactly the same length as a poem paul wrote

unless you measure the spaces between each sound

then mine might be empty as a galaxy
written by justin ryan fyfe at 11:05 0 SHOTS
10 July 2011
bows and arrows

with american money i swing my candy filled pockets
at the horrible crying fits i make myself
eager for the excitement you bring to the table
ground water drowning
all the people who drown in drunk driving swims
or if i even feel anything when somebody dies
like when i day dream of my fathers dying
i could be honest or i am only truth things
but the worst thing i have ever done was staying
on the great plains
saying that i can heal my wandering chest brain
or im sorry i ever threatened to leave you
nebraska
where the goddamn dust makes people
shout at moon
wondering why their bodies are shifting
wondering where their parents went when they died
saying im sorry i cant stop the birds from flying
or i dont even know how to use my body
i dont know how to say things i think i mean
my timing is off
to a bad start
my knuckle gaps to knuckles and more gaps
can i say nothing
does the wind blowing and the wind and the wind
chasing my empty stomach
or my empty hands
or full of my shoulders tough meat
chewing it for months still wont break the skin
written by justin ryan fyfe at 20:52 0 SHOTS
brooklyn poem

move my arm around your no waist
waste the breath of my kiss speak
speak at you like my inner you
she as an i thing
the fix of my longing
send nude pics of my clothed nakedness
flap my arms wild
like the cowboy me
or the time that im here like a new guy
or the 99 other guys who crush my crushing
say lady i build castles for your eye reading
write poems about what you want out of me
like this standing
like this walking through the worlds earth
taking apart my arm parts
to hold you longer than time goes
or kiss you like a love goes
or going away for the no shower
telling you i dont clean up after my dying
or dying like i can see you again
or seeing you
which makes me dream
dreaming about being something
like my eyes at your eyes
written by justin ryan fyfe at 01:42 0 SHOTS
07 July 2011
oh hi

why do my arms weigh as much as giant arms
carry you baby doll
say silly names like baby doll
carry over any body of water
i swim like a dog like an idiot dog
with my heavy arms sinking as they flap around
written by justin ryan fyfe at 21:28 1 SHOTS
like wilderness

jog long legs toward the sunned sky
follow deer thing with the most beautiful antlers

vanish into the cement by jaw to jaw
to see what i can find inside of your you

teach me how to skin a fish
teach me how to survive city winters

there is no stopping in my mind
steady breathing into the long distance

i can hide in a cave for months
surviving off the fat in my brain
written by justin ryan fyfe at 15:10 0 SHOTS
bread


forget your bird feathers here flyer
fly me a moon landing, make beautiful bruises
or when idaho was the moon
new york the space ship city

i'm going to call you a darling
where the huge smiles you make can talk
looking for a hiding spot for my happy-scared eyes
to rest on any of you

challenge me to find what it takes
to scrape by for more time
like this me next to you time
like this awake and sleep time

i will tell you the worst things ive done
i will be the best idiot
i will walk face first into mountains
i will feel this way because i want to
i will kiss you again
written by justin ryan fyfe at 07:52 0 SHOTS
06 July 2011
GOLD VOLVO

my god is a demigod
a lukewarm piss i take out of my body
to wash off all the cold piss or hot piss

i got stuck on ground water
or trying to tell the entire state of Idaho
i am a fisherman from the great plains
the great fucking plains

flip the bird
at old ladies who cant drive
write a poem about perfect teeth
or fly like these gold teeth
or collect these shark teeth

sometimes i think about how im dying
and wonder how im dying like this
with my hand down my entire throat
massaging guts

with my soft hands
feeling the cement chips
embedded in my lovely wound
or my happy-scared grin the size of everything
written by justin ryan fyfe at 11:56 0 SHOTS
04 July 2011
just so you know

i am a boring universe
i am the wind, wind, and the wind blowing
i am inside of myself
i am afraid of everyone
i am in love with storming
i walk away from pain
i am the epitome of dollface
i am the river receding
i am the dirt thirsting
i am the pit of my own pitness
i am watching fireworks
i love driving cars
i am the grass, grass, and the grass growing
i am afraid of the no you
i speak to my hearts health
i am the river flooding
i am the absorbing dirt
i keep quiet in poems
i am going to die
i am the no pain
i will tell you how your glow
makes my chest become a million things
that will never exist
written by justin ryan fyfe at 21:04 0 SHOTS
01 July 2011
poem thing

i'm struggling to understand my own existence
in the poem, where there is no poem

metal wall, pressing my face against it
to feel the cold move from no skin to skin

teeth become magnetized to what should be said
in the poem, where there is no poem

and questions are mouth moves i don't understand
because my tongue parts won’t stop talking

things fall from things thinging, and scared me
in the poem, where there is no poem

then lightning, then thunder
wind, wind, and the storm forming

thoughts on the night when there is no storm
in the poem, where there is no poem

the three longest rivers on earth

the Mississippi river is long but very poor--
a road of mud that floods & worships Abraham’s god.

the Amazon river is long & full of sharp things--
spends half the year still while small birds walk across.

the Nile is a long river & goes past some pyramids
that were built by aliens several thousands of years ago.



mind poem

plummet comes to mind
or the inevitable rhyming of mind
my attempts to impress
with diving
and fine dining
or acting like I’m a brilliant actor

the time i said nothing instead of singing
for a king and i audition
when i could speak French in Mississippi
and beat my dad at chess
or jogging jog like a jogger does
at all hours of the night

hold me under a Canadian ocean
i will time a century by just walking it
slow like children can
because they can
with enough cat tranquilizers
to make ten cats sleep for awhile

utility

we take our flashlights with us
to the bathroom
when we pee

not because we’re scared—
are you

a question i should have asked
before blind walking into pitched squalor

bladder full
oh this madness

we being children
we being poor


house of, etc.

my range of movement is restricted
by your shoulder in my shoulder,

i am eating this formerly frozen food
that i have recently unfrozen to eat.

the temptations of being eager for this,
& then you avoid telling people things.

naked is not necessarily an advantage
with you smiling at me and my body.

you come to a room in your own house
that you don't remember being there,
& paint it w/ colors that already were.

sweater poem

i bought this sweater because i
am in love with you
it cost me 70$
& does not even keep me warm
unless i wear it
in the summer.

kind of pricey

did i tell you i haven't showered today
did i tell you how happy-scared i am

your face looking at my face
becoming a face of it

read you Christmas poems at the back bar
in one hundred degree heat

the liquor makes me sing more
makes me less of a secret

or maybe i'll chain smoke for breakfast
stand where ever you want to see me

heaven
for Iowa

a small box the size of Iowa
but let’s not mix the gods
w/ baseball

there is no gay marriage in heaven
because there is no heaven
there is only Iowa

Iowa
for heaven

stretch across a belly flat or
could i say it in a much more boring way
drive slow
so you don’t miss the largest truck stop in the world
with enough parking space for the entire state
to park
their semis

to Chicago

a whim & the fog
rolls, i can say what the fog is. where smart cats keep breeding
w/o consequence, & then the kissing words--

knew the sun would return even when there is no sun for miles
or if it took months of walking
so on & a great distance that i can push back
behind your ear

or do i dare city rain to touch us
with house taps--
scare the dog, drops

a letter
written with small bumps only on my arm
often confused with your arms

you will read to me words like hung, & hair lip, push me
back against the wall & i
watch your mouth

then know my hand is now your hand
lost in the land of your hand parts.
hidden by limited vision, & there
people are

& then a reality filled w/ real things such as
people eat, or
can i see pictures of your ugly foot before they changed it.
walking on
hand pads for the feet to rest, i could walk like this for days

w/ you telling me, don't be so silly
my boy hands. hold—soft

maybe more of a man w/ man hands than i want to be
measured by the silence
between the air-conditioning unit click ons and offs

but you don't look where you're going
& pass the nature walk, say blind spot
Iowa rest stops
greener as temporary, as green can be for the garden or
just a damn lucky guy going for the turn-around
& walk back towards the greenless things
that we can talk about
when we talk about

or do i know what i'm doing, with it
said
‘i know why fog is here.’
now, you're softest when the rain hasn't stopped
& a small line can be curved into something
like the dirt of me,
mud spittle
my mouth runs hungry over your collar bone

coffea

gone from where i saw you
or is where i saw you there.

staining things on my hands
now stain the pant legs of my pants.

shower when you might come by;
i do not shower often.

the rich wet dirt you want
is under the hard dry earth.

you put this seed over here, over here
& cherries grow out of me.

fresh fruit

gobble going gets tough
where i leave my skin to skin

in the sun's weather weathered,
leather under where i sun my shaded self

selfish to hide. breeze i can find
seldom despite a shiftless center--

horizon i noticed, the trees are no trees,
but the trees are still planted

i grab you by this neck & this neck
so they tell you the neck is detachable


pioneers

counting bruises oh, are we
apples
sail upon trampled fields
of water wheat
you grow gold w/ your soiled hands
she
drinks & i
drink redberry-wine cold
behind trails of bison bur & Indian grass,
smelling in barberry or
may-apple maybe, we
wait for it
to get dark for
our skin to hide

nest

wild horses draw the head off
you, razor-legs show me
skin of your bite bones
or where the fir trees grow
down to the night-time-water-body, so
i can be a romantic man
talk generic about the places of you:

the off-path covered wagon,
dirt boat
my beard dangling w/ twigs
& prairie flower.
arranged to remind you

visiting

scumming for a like soul
can i breathe your ocean air, Nebraska
cold is colder than your Nebraska.

your copper hair blondes me, gum
your plumb neck. plump my lips from the cement--
i can bite you, modern world, with my fakest face.

the slope of your back with the back hair
goads my hand to nick-it,
can you reach for me.
take away my cape.

fragile in the sense that a man is,
or why i get nerves in my belly when i see you,
a beauty.

call me for a second; call me while i am sleeping.

call me a word like darling
so my fur jumps
& the coats that warm my shaved shoulders
hide great plains from the belly i said.

more, there is an ocean under here,
you can listen
for the train coming. breathe
the air for me,
the jewel of cattle beds.


bone-chew

does your god know i
don't exist

the dollars of your can
feed it

who doesn't collect
shark teeth on the beaches of Florida

the flattest place
on earth

even the alligator in the canal wouldn’t
eat
my mother.


re-application

use the feet for function
all the ground being tight-rope
damp in romantic

because socks are for sandals
here, rotting wood pile
a poem about trees

tall living soulless, is
nose stubs, bent up branch
run my licked thumb over your eyebrow

girl thing
bite at the air passing between
your arm and ribcage, skinned

and jacketed
covered in water, can you
stop thinking

you are such a forest, moving
toward the moon
the top of your head breaking clouds

fish jaw

i will talk
under a mouth bone
artificial structure added
but unable to chew

through, thumbs for teeth
plucked at the joints or
cherry picker

will i talk
nice words about you and your
pretty bacteria
unseen on my swinging

knees bent in unmovable buck,
hip tall boots
grabbing at river darts

show me your true talk
over in the shallow
where the river moves slow


beard poem

the jaw angle hangs fat

do you still believe in ten
commandments?

were my hands any stronger
i could hurt you easy by saying it

look up words
to say

say, the part of me that hurts is
every part

so i eat less--

heroin is nothing to me, me.
unless i want to 'come in my pants'

and i told you about this
train, i said you took

but you took absolutely
nothing from me, the haves

my dirty underwear maybe
my loneliness

or the spit
on my hands

to grip the grip tighter
to nail it

to leave my face
at home.


station

so you faked the sad parts, my arms
cry big boat-
load the shoulder, making turn
after turn, after

you notice my lack of ampersands
and teeth
the venom kind, kind of like
poetry is not.

sand on the cement for slip
controlled behavior
in the lost pit of Midwest territories

cabin fever'd and
name yourself log-hands

cry, and cry until your brain fizz'z
interlock
knuckle bones
mention to me more about this secret
world you got


drive after we

your phone thing walk-
talkies to my phone thing,

using phone words
hey, and um

breathing, but the shoes don't get used
or the snow works like rain on them

finding plants with names
pretend we know

i wait for your pillow to say
face, you are lovely

or i just whisper this in a poem
about the interstate hours

be dead air for awhile
pretend we know that too

hear sounds others make
bathing and washing off travel

go home
maybe, for the speed in my ankle turn

let it be anywhere
back in a small room with a smaller bed

feel occupation

is what you said or to feel
as if its fur on me
and sounds like rain drops or
all these boys,
always a boy there
grabbing little marshmallow-hands
at a nip,
or things that sparkle,
singular as you
nest at the end of a bar, fully clothed
just
make it work,
the boy says sometime later on
as if words will do

on the slope of Nebraska

in me, Nebraska
shaped the way i see you
just waking on your front side

write you a letter
in my mind
say, i saw you once and remember it

cross the Missouri River again
i always look down
to see what is floating

every thought, you think
i could pretend
not to know what i knew of you

mist, over sand hills
where the cranes
make it back

all this silly travel,
talking about our day jobs
listening to the same sounds

your chin i think,
where the Indian caves are

there to go

i bought you a waterbed said
it was not an ocean
but i still surf

when i was naked
you smiled

i still am
laying naked on the driveway

i wished for a window to sneak away with my smoking
or all sky
for my space travel

find
moons everywhere

slow walk apocalypse

holding a body—
sometimes i am an asshole

the eye’s slits
cum in the clean jeans

trapped by environment
look like a baby

whole lives
ahead of us like ground water

drown your body rubbed soft
red at the nubs or trying lungs

even with a second body,
in case there is no one tomorrow

quiet you, quit--
squint at the sun. say sun.

i’m not dancing, i'm blind,
i’m not ready for the swing--

deck me,
break all my fine china

digging a hole through earth
to china, easy does

the other side, the other
Chinese lives, where.

so the body
keeps growing

does it shit,
we wait to see--

or ass, or bottom
of a beautiful barrel, apples

slice things with knives
ask why i always carry knives

“there are a lot of stabbings
in Grand Island.”

so scary, so wounds cut,
chop noise from cat alley

the sun is increasing in size
night slowly, paw.

am i right,
can you see the dust settle

watch the echo,
bouncing space debris off

past lovers, a fuck
reflections of people you think

talk to yourself
with this new body you found

looking alone with her
wrapped around you.

forgot the words, or
only remembered poems

about falling space dust
ricocheting off some body

turning over and over in your awake
sleep, pretty when you

no, snoring is love,
no this unattractive pile is love

my love, dark as space between
another sun

dust on emptiness, you
you, and the grass growing

under the snow
the beard with all twigs

being afraid of people leaving
or wanting to

lost in a world like china,
not unlike the attractive middle of Nebraska

the arms don’t know their chest
well, imploding

she thinks it’s useless to talk to them
but still talks to them.

nature poem

laugh at the thought of my voice being sunshine
or picture me gentle
holding baby animals in my uncoarse arm ends
wearing the darkest sunglasses ever made
wishing everyone was doing that

self medicate

this isn't easy
the constant shock of shock therapy

your lake face
bright rash red scale

the picture still smiles when you go crazy
it's the water watering

the grass, grass, and the grass growing
take a look at my hands they aren't melting

they aren't fake
you can sell me your happy waves

your moon
controlling my ocean

damn tide even shaping my eyes, which way
i never knew the wind

would carry the clippings
turning brown quickly without water

hiding the lights from dimming
electrocution is not an idea forming.

Spicer

that marvelous finger
he gave it
after being asked to take back comments made
on ted Williams’ contribution to the bosox
i was there he said
i was there when he gave it
but it wasn't worth a goddamn thing
if you want to win the pennant
and my poetry does

water displacement 40th attempt

melt my face to the ocean floor
with ocean lava, tell them
my father is dead almost
i love everyone who touches me
get the fucking axe for these tree poems
cut the jokes from my chop
i can zen in my pants while you grind me
meat from my knees
but i want you to know
my arms are your arms
knuckles to where there are no knuckles
or this stupid water displacement
that i keep trying


water displacement 40th attempt

my quack won't echo no matter how many times i quack
or i'm crying like a baby boy, do you see my wet face
rigid cheeks of me making a new me
trying to get rid of the person everyone sees

i swallow gum
one day my stomach will stretch into it's own baby
or i spit down my throat to dilute the blood draining
not quite a pint daily

filter the water through napkins
that i grab handfulls of at local restaurants
so i can hydrate without the fear
of what ever i should be afraid of in old pipes

i am a small thing and only getting smaller
if you can see past the dying body filling itself with insulation
and realize that the words i say
mean nothing other than what i have failed to do


coriander nipple ocean sunset.

hey girl jogger where did you get your
desire to jog
how wet is the ocean
or the small of your back
my licked eye-balls

have you ever won a free cruise
oh wait
did i see you on that free cruise
to barbados
were you that girl who wouldn't stop jogging


gaps

there is so much time to be june as a porch-swing
leave the days where the days go

where there was water
sunk the egyptians or swallowed the earth

but my mouth is wide open with words
to buzz away with its' bits

confronted by what i say i see
or the eyes, where they were forgetting space

vague shadows from sun behind moon
when your finger points to a godless sea

or a line from each knuckle
lining somewhere with no knuckles

mathematics

shaking in your no boots
carry water to the ocean

increase the size of the air
ask paul how tall a celebrity is

like i wonder how tall nick cage is
or i wonder how tall yao ming is
or i wonder

why
she ran away

to the ocean
with all these buckets of water

and i wonder
where she gets all of this water

polluting the salt soup
killing all the fish with purity

or whatever you call it,
go tell it

on the mountain
where there are no mountains

like nebraska
or like anything in my mind

shut-up-i'm-talking
about romance, about it being all quiet

about my nerves fucking up everything i do
about hating the sex of it

thats the truth
i'm going to white out my back brain

places where i remember places
like going there

like a car crash that i remember
because i told the story so many fucking times

i'm bored of that story
and the mountains i tell it on

but here i can see
taking water from one ocean

to fill up another ocean
is stupid.

my eye sockets are a rabid dog
do you listen to
dub step
let's get ripped and dance around

hawk swoop

you got drunk
and said you hated me every night

i said i loved you
and kissed your breasts

dark splotches on each hip
and that hair

i said i loved you
and kissed your breasts

up your legs
and under arms

i said i loved you
and kissed your breasts

and you told me how to act
and you told me how to look

i kissed your breasts
and walked out into the river

wondering
why i was still dying

touchstone

space is my rib gaps
let chest brain waves
mingle w/ your brain waves
surfing through all other waves
invisibly fucking
like super tiny things
w/ microscopic sex organs
who keep fucking
for no apparent reason

no theme, no lawrence, no hearing, no purcell

poem what
poeming is

stop think
quit yr day job

cover pain w/ poison
& romantic sugardeath

stick yr neck out
at livin'

fuck it! lets crash this boat

built a boat out of solid gold
even the sails

but the sun my belly burned through
my mouth and other ways to leave

fuck it! lets build a boat

found sleeping on ocean waves
unsafe

I GOT SO PISSED
just wanted to throw a disc at the sun

but i ate the disc
and i ate the sun

the gravity of what i had done
carried me away

i never spoke to anyone again
except you

fuck it! let's go out on your boat

stressed i am a bad fucker
or boring lover

calm ocean tells me
the water is terrific

there are all these fish
drilling up at the sun

for fresh air
or something greener to swim in

ego

curl into a ball in back brain

wrap heart cage around glass blood pump

cover cracks with pain pills or poems

fill lungs with anything other than air

think space is only distance

traveling moon waves

surfing on sand dunes the size of sun

burning

glass

throw magma stones sand-dune
watching the shift
float each grain wave

rolling huh,
foamy ground

my shark teeth tuned
better than my chainsaw mouth
as it eats

my memory
my respect for where i came from
burning walk-away

collecting my own jaw
off the beaches of nebraska

watch it move
the way my dream girl moves

sweep sea, boom
underwater, or underneath an ocean.

fat

moving on a mattress that forms
to your body
putting warm things inside of you

wear the same clothes every day
for weeks
until they don't fit

i can't run anymore
but things like flying, or a bus
or a boat

when this body of yours is just shaddow
lingering stink of human
memory of hanging

there is walking here
joggers too
and others with eyes who think about it

i may be animal right now

maybe because my body is everywhere
show you this inch
bald shaddow

run through fur
bending fang around tongue pant
glancing around at every warmth

making sure to eat
everything
you kill.

simple

using my sense
on van morrisons gambler road
where we get fat
eating at every fried chicken place we see
i see all of them
i tell the employes i am james franco
and tell them about how
i had my arm stuck under a boulder
out in the middle of nowhere
as i slowly decide
if i should cut off my limb
but they usually don't believe me
because it never happened

running

this is not the 2k11 of my dreams
my dreams aren't even that impressive
day things about arm holding

never any words

this is not a racecar race
not even sure what kind of person
drives like that

i'm running even though i never run
quick brisk on hand pads
so these fucked up feet of yours can rest

just don't decide to jump off a mountain
and go up
just can't surf to outter space

another day is a blessing
of the same thing

another obama is a president
who is just a man

every man only wants to understand
why they are going to die

facebook friend 23

someone might not know flowers grow in colorado
or that being drunk isn't what makes
anything wrong.

mint

can't run
can't even surf

mouth of mine
creates distance

by saying
i can be anywhere

i can smile like a child
i can chill

ice packed under my armpit
numbing my ribs

i was hit by a truck
that isn't what hurts

falling feeling
when i know i should be falling

tried to live on the sun
but my poems melted

but i have a long ways to go
back to earth

back to face
disappearing from face

from my body warmth
leaving space

no

have i told you that i forgot to use the ash tray
that i think hootie and the blowfish
ruined my life

my hair is the longest it has been
ever

gravy
can you reach it yet

with knife
drops

know why the fog
is fog

know why
i cannot stay

my strength
does not come from my beard

it comes
from years of staring at moon and sun

a simple poem

in this poem i am james fucking franco
i am about to amaze you
with my performance
in planet of the apes
i am
beyond moses
i wear a leather jacket too heavy for the fonz
the myth of jumping sharks
is my clutch move
legalizing poetry
or the greenest things beyond shark waters
kelp
i think it's called
but did you see planet of the apes
did you pay attention
to who i am
and how unimportant everything is

speak fast

with each no word

if i get deep
in the weather

it rains in most places

i would like to hear you say anything

yell out your window
echo off ohio

i will yell something back
or just poem

how i explode

minze

talk about telling poems
at my mouth

i will not remember
anything

rhyme the words together
for heat

going from one face
to other face

buck up girlfriend

stopped smoking
started eating beef jerky
dance awkward
under blonde smolder
dust eyes and crisp air
the gaps
feels like a ball pit
little kids clawing
through colorful spheres
drooling on everything

the head of some animal

it is impossible to die

the mountains are only lips

kiss me

harder

make the rain fall last a week

buck up girlfriend

again breathe deeply
watch the math move through your body
with my math eyes
stand through the the wasp's stay
still for years or so
breathing slowly out your mouth
filling the blood with oxygen
tasting the august pollen
fresh cut grass
the lawn mower still gargling

but you just don't remember if anything stung
skinned knee
gravel dragging through my gums
and the white of my eyes

i faked heat exhaustion
at the anti abortion rally

i faked asthma in phys ed

i

broke
my

face.

wolfheads and a woman

i was distracted
by your
gorgeous grinning maw

in jaw
i flop around
about to be a dead thing

i will taste as good as i can
i will be meat
i will pass through you whole

for now

i forget that i am whatever god was supposed to be
speaking mountains

the way poems are made
always feeling the need to go much faster

i could never find anyone without the going
find myself sometimes too

numbers are inside of me doing math
talk about my high school physics teacher

talk about how i am a fool
for ever acting as if i can handle life as it is

but

maybe there are words
or maybe there is nothing to say

can i write
just think of me, i guess.

a poem i wrote while listening to nelly

maybe my slow
swoop
maybe a week
or two of anything
is more time than i can take
maybe the grass won't stop growing
the rain just
won't leave
wind and the wind and the wind
weigh yourself down in jewelry
i will bury myself within myself
until
the black hole in my chest brain
pulls the moon
and many small planets


to me.

KID ROCK

my mouth is dumb
dry as scottsbluff
as whisky blood spit
early morning
stoned pimp
i will drive my american car
into a desert
my hair is beautiful
i am a badass
but then i cry in public
and act out
when i am drunk and sad
i realize
an earthquake changes
foundations
why i say stupid shit
or let my nerves
fuck up everything i do
throw me
into the ocean
i will build a surf board
out of whale ribs
feed off the blubber
for weeks if i have to
then feed off my own
turning my chest into
something else
and without thinking
i tell the universe to chill out

notorious thugs is a fucking rad jam

if i could write as fast as the bone thugs jam
there would be a million words about how fresh
your moon-shines
right or left and the sun
hawks fly away too
is
what i am saying is what i am
just a flash
of the space travel in each eye
just bomb
and other things that fly

NEW TEETH

the sharks won't even eat their own shark meat
with their new teeth

i look forward to the day i find them
glittered with diamonds and various bling

feel pure money tear into skin
fill up your stomach with treasure

take small bites around the rind
so you get every last cell of fruit

grin with the juice oozing between your smile
looking around wildly with animal eyes.