sweater poem

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

kansas city poem
for claire

you light up the plains you
scan the great plains--

saw good ol' boy become
& then the kissing word

moves to the softer animals from sea
priced by the moist

you can gum these soft sea monsters
for dollars & the cost or

i could save
all my money
from the open furnace

untitled
for title

in silence the silence finds
it's noise
or my voice is made by teeth
& the flesh i bite
calling the sound gnashing &
raspberry spit/split
the lickity of traveling so far
when my throat can vibrate
i say "simple"
in that way
how i feel
how the crater in my torso
actually feels
vibrating into message of--
that i can't translate
in any real word
so i pretend your ears, painfully
soft
grating into the build of my skeleton
yes
the whole thing
can hear

poem
for face

dont know her or knew her for
just half a day
the way the unknown curls around
a straight part of head hair
then the bending
where you did not know could bend
say money does this
or the kissing words that hold
around the nothing known
until you realize what it is
keeping you up late at night
trying to bring her closer
w/ words only
feel her face form in language
say this is chin
& put your thumb over it
to see again.

part of a poem

see the language of you, danc--
ing word or
fuzzy mumble i
can hear the approach
under arch
born the mississippi quarter
my kansas side of kansas city
moves

poem

the words are hard
sometimes.

nothing is
coming to mind.

i would like to write a poem
today, or

tomorrow,
even yesterday would have been nice

but
i
suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

a famous statue

hide the light from your
light eyes

shade sun on a guest bed i
remove your legs to walk w/

or run along your handsome prancers.
forget direction

on your no-moss thigh,
mars sleeps on us at the same

time the gaps of when i
think your face & still--
you are.

tonights the night
for z.s.

look at us fuddy duddies
talkin bout some love stuff

grow a beard why dont ya
just run off

into the desert-- she say
that furs for hangin on

weaving our faces into
a woman or

parking your car on my lawn
in the morning
we are.

you &
for guest room

telling me don't be so silly
w/ my boy hands. hold--

maybe more of a man w/ man hands
than i want to be

be yours in an instant measured
by the silent minutes

between when the airconditioning unit
clicks on

carry over water
for you

or do i know what i'm doing, with it
said

i know why fog is here.
you're

softest when the rain hasn't stopped
& a small line

can be curved into something
easily held

so my mouth runs over your
collar bone
still.

carry over water
for the other side

but you don't look where you're going
& pass

greener is only temporary, as green can be
for the garden or

just a damn lucky--
going to just turn around

& walk back towards the greenless
things

that we can talk about
when we talk
about

carry over water
for water

& then there is a reality
filled w/ real things

people eat, or
can i see pictures of you

before they changed it.
walking on

hand pads for the feet to rest,
i could walk like this for days

next
to
you.

stand-by
for claire

a whim & the fog
rolls, i can say what the fog is. where

smart cats keep breeding
w/o consequence, then love--

knew the sun
would return even when there is no sun

or if it took months becoming more months
so on &

a great distance
that i can push back
behind your ear.

for eyes

dare the rain to
to touch us

with house taps--
scare the dog.

a letter
written with small bumps only

you will read to me words like
hung, & hair lip, push me

back against the wall & i
watch your mouth
move

twenty six
for twenty eight

reached some peak
or at least

thought i touched it.
know my hand is now

your hand,
lost in the land of your

hand parts. connect
to other places

hidden by my limited vision--
& there
people are

west
for west

tell me again--
you are the reason i

move-- freaky fast
when it can be to easy to stay here:

comfort.
gotta get outta this

zone, feel the goddamn dry heat
flush against skin

stretched over the bones
of what lived
here.

for keeps

muddy river, here's that sad face you got.
long baby, reach in to your mouth

with a full arm of sweet things--
im sorry you.

a kiss is. pull away from your wings for
just a fly

know the seasons come when you won't
want this much

when a time like this walks in
to your life
& takes you home.

2010

space you can fill up
with your

lovely noise,
we can lap the humidity

here in nebraska, a gift,
the whole state

from each growth of feed
meant to keep

the fat cows here,
so everyone can eat them,
even other fat cows.

thousands of years

a good look stung
what ever me could be found

pick up the pitter--
or one thing a world has,

patience.
her horns of joshua

enter my jericho-bones,
say

harlot boy
come down to the creek
& see.

no title
for greg

the cancer i write
grows up like a poem

alive it seems, or
everything has happened

he screams at the frozen
pond, head crossed

by several other pond people
who ballance

their child feet
on
water.

for walker

we walk down the street
to become better goers,

im sure you know.
a tuft of fur

glows over
where i want your back--

my hands wrapped;
position

the soft parts where
my teeth
will taste.

on the way

still there's the wander--
stretch your neck

to neck
where she stretches to find

some understandable trait
of connect--

friction in move;
a great distance by any means.

find the spot
where
she knows what you are saying.

for creator

put together new animals
from scratch/no scratchy

is the beard too much
for nature, i mother i

guess i'd better
surprise you w/ bright colored furs

on all the animals i make;
they will be

tiny as this poem
w/ strange smiles all over
their bodies.

be like, etc.

want the ghost of it, is muffle
speak through me spectre

gone from the sh-shaking
my hand did not, seem

touch the face of her, face her
from all angles

passing through
is quick & painless

except for the young ones
who still
live here.

nude poem

that is when you lie
to yourself

about what you forgot to do
before all these people you know

were naked
even in the absence of liquor

even in the absence of god
as if it ever were

that easy to be naked
in front of anyone
when you really loved them.

for friends

& the whisky is there
for your friends

because your friends are there
to kiss you

when the ones who ought, are not.
when the raspberry burn

on your face
feels like a fight you don't remember

but you remember everything
about the kiss
or the one you ought.

saint

boy i, a
catch

me before i, too-
where the eyebrow might not, or

you touch it
when nobody is looking

which is a task
but then

i lean in & don't kiss you
which is
a much harder task.

waiting for mcdonalds to open.


lonely is a loud
way

but the curious is just opening



got the word down somewhere or
got it

rather not know
say no it's not known

invent the rumble bars on the interstate shoulder
on your shoulder it seems



different
.

searching homes for the right
home

meant to go by highway
when the winter sneaks around wisconsin

scared to find the neighbors--
greener on the roof

poem
for paul

do
i go at it all wrong; on

deck
for the swinging game

more clobber
out of my bones arm--

cast
the throwing of small

boulders or
am i
poet

poem
for kyle

poet
am i

falling to pieces in my
pieces falling

zone. so girl
turns to stone

inside of my baby
my baby groans

can i
find a small boy named i
& home

trip, a

& you can sound with your mouth
sounds, i

can't take my--
his eyes fit strange in their eye holes

wish i had seen
or wish i had

wrists for you
to cover with long sleeves

or laugh
about how i can see you
sooner

home

on deck
for the swinging game

clay bits break down
into smaller clay bits

ground grates by the cleats
bone wrap tar babe

gonna find me that sweet spot
dosing on the cube

but these diamonds
are gravy
for the tree i carry.

mud

forget about the another--
other, touch where the callous hide

her elbows
ice ball, no not a snow ball

like clay, for making
the best of/of a situation

say this, yell yell mad
ha, no

do-
n't be
ridiculous

i got myself a job-job, dear
getting into your swimming pools

bake your skin hot springs
to be your friend's brown--

don't mention it.
your dirt field is all over

the mountain babies
say now

you are a mountain baby
just like
her baby was.

an enormous closet

there's enough space, moons etc.
you landing on me

no i said,
are you landing on me

when the truth of something is
an untruth

how do you?
believe in the endless void,

&
that i can make it
there.

a lakes

my jean shorts cut for summer
& poetry for weapons, ha

you distance are a beauti--
ful bitch of a son,

god, i would like that.
more of a motion--

back stroke or just float there
all damn pretty

the water i mean,
you know, when it
ripples

softer

maybe grass isn't a garden here,
greener in the roll-around

but my isn'ts just go sometimes
at the walking you walk, or

grass seems greener on my pant's knees--
sleep/wake, cold rooftop gardens.

away from the mouth you command
the night to carve a poem into us:

the stars you said
would be there
& my hands--

wind wind & wind
for the late greg kuzma

& the grass growing, smells like grass
or you watch it

take individual pieces from the dead
buried

watch the dead lift themselves up
floating to the top of the

world.
they are babies.

we will keep them in zoos
& no-one
will save them.

hey girl

you are the baby in the barn
your fingers nubbed

from feeding too much sugar
to those damn horses

nay! are my arms not long enough
to love; you

cave in my face
the hoof with metal lips

dripping milk down your throat
with the tip
of my nipple is wine.

my africa

the birth was a miracle,
the baby was a

miracle baby--
tall as a man straight out;

my baby has flag poles for legs, mom says,
waving its bright teeth

at the planets you think are stars--
a jealous heaven.

his arms, are beautiful trees throwing
figs at gibbons
who can no longer climb his white body.

on a bus

the quickness is not what scares me it's
i am your moon landing--

trapped next to rotation,
we stop &

wait, & wait some more
wondering where the polish tourists

ran off to.
or how someone would suddenly decide

hey,
lets go to
utah.

mississippi

poke your beard into
the rivers breast

a thin baby splips
out of here, all pig

no grease, just mud
for miles, is all you see

walking on a thick current
feeling the drown come

where the catfish
are
waiting.

an enormous closet

i don't care if you ever see
my naked body

w/ the tip of your tongue,
smell the dirt & dead skin in my finger nails

when i forget to take
good care

make the most of the empty sound
that sits between what i assume is you

& then there is me
sitting in a room
no bigger than your stomach.

tree poem

DO KIDS WHO LIVE IN NEIGHBOR HOODS
WITH OLD TREES

DRIVE THEIR MUSTANGS
AROUND NEWER NEIGHBORHOODS

THAT HAVE YOUNG TREES &
THROW INSULTS AT THE KIDS IN THESE NEIGHBORHOODS

LIKE HEY!
NICE BABY TREES!

EVEN IF THE OTHER KIDS ARE DRIVING
MUCH NICER CARS
LIKE A GOLD ROLLS ROYCE

trees

WHEN A TREE SINGS THE NATIONAL ANTHEM
OF TREES

IN A FOREST OF TREES
DO

THE OTHER TREES HEAR HIM/HER
W/ THEIR TREE EARS

& WOULD
THEY ALL LOAD LEAF BULLETS INTO THEIR TREE RIFLES

TO FIGHT ME
WHEN I SWING MY MAN AXE
AT THEIR ELDERLY.

the week before i saw the last airbender 3D IMAX


the important part is what i say
when i don't even know

they call that faith
in the south

which they call the bible belt
which holds

up florida
which kind of looks like a flaccid penis

if you think that way or if
you haven't seen the last airbender
3D IMAX yet.

an enormous closet



look at the extremes, say:
i am an extremely normal person

or say an exit sentence like
don't go.

think of the power you might have
when you make requests

as if you can sprout plants
out of

the rib of my brother
by saying two words when
you mean to say three

an enormous closet

name a river after yourself because you
found it

& this tree next to another tree
starts to close in until you axe them

put a coin in your pocket w. several other
coins to let

bums hear you jingle
while you lie to them about what you have

when the truth is
there's so much
you won't give.

an enormous closet

be a real sneaky--
sneak the new jc penney catalog

into your room.
at this point in your life

you have never had
your own bed, but

this is your room, & it has
a room inside of it

where you can look at women
in their matching underwear
with a flashlight.

the bed i have fits
& i thought it wouldn't

nothing else can

an enormous closet

well i echo but won't write that--
that david bowie

t-shirt might fit
if i was actually you

if i was actually you
in the dark

where i might be afraid.
i might be afraid

of the dark
where nothing will find you,
where nothing will find.

an enormous closet

saw what you thought was me
portioning out the arm i use less

but the shadows are tricky even
in tight spaces, maybe

that's your arm
you see

& then a her-arm you thought
wasn't either of ours, much

less to do w/ why i make
believe
there is time to blink to.

karate
for mikey

why don't you just wear a hat
that matches your other hats you have

carve a wooden
figurine

out of spruce or something
more spruced

ask me again why i dont just
chop down

all of these
legs w/ my
karate.

poem

sticking is what i'm not good at
remember

me as a line
goes on much longer than i'd like

to see
words that draw out the

taste of
what you do taste like

oh yeah
this is why
i wanted to say:

punches

crazy where you put yourself, question
the dots you find

around your perfect skin
sitting

or does it stand where the young boys see
more to learn

than the books we can give them
packing up our saids and does

for the older boys
who know where to
look

bomb it

cumbersome face, rough you
up

scratch my scalp like a dog
until my ears

want to hug each other
always naked

touch me nude, a fat baby
my eyes stay blue--

up, where your hands hold
excited
to wrap around my it.

sp ce
for kyle

your skin grows back,
but those curls you got to stick with

cut your arm real bad or
be safe on your fence sits

peaceful is the car-ride
talk speak to the wind-boys--

your arm is my arm,
long & grabbing for my arms

you don't surf
to get away from
surfing.

slip, slip,

maybe i am a piece of your face
when you remember me; a small boy under

these skins & beard, a devil hugging every inch;
feeling much like water

cooling whatever loneliness i can find.
i'm smiling sometimes

is what you don't see. helpless
to what you miss about

when i told you how i feel
or the other times
that i said anything.

vandal

can hear bugs drop from the window
thudding against the floor in the dark

my blood under naked leg seems delicious but
they don't want that--

left teeth marks on my neck i made up
where the sex really is

exciting like my hands can be
wandering through your rows

breaking off milkweed plants
along the canal
until we get to the iron bridge.

deer

the apples in my palms don't float, or
i'm just a bad swimmer kid.

dark colors make you a shiny bit,
spider arms lay down a long stick

dangle over me with my mouth; open
dream you'd just let me go

stand on the other side of the river
without any clothes on; sailing.

maybe keep my pants up
because knees look funny
when they buck.

did you hear what im saying
im never leaving space
i said im never leaving space
do you want my car
you can have my car
i have no need for a car because
i am never leaving space

-paul

a poem for paul

put a clean shirt on
make plans to give a damn

does it sound funny when i say
fuck-machine,

or when the window is wide open
a crater, or a whistle gap that you

whistle through,
about the leg pumping you can do

with all of these
fuck-machines
that i told you about.

the replacement for your top beams make
a good support,

the old top beams can be reused

panhandle

smell nebraska under my shirt
where your hands reach, am i

a field is a place to work
you can make things live w/

those hands.
step off into a darker part of the state

that doesn't keep track
of how many people it takes to live here

keep moving in that direction
towards something, maybe
a mountain.

long branch

but i didn't watch the tornado break,
or the van with all those antenna on it--

you said i could last,
but different points on my skin are starting to

rub off.
friends from high school come by to remember me,

& that's nice too.
but the shaking of where the joints

take up &
are thrown into the next county
makes me realize what comes next.

dance

taste the coin in the vein, someone
said you could change out the useless

parts for parts you can see from down the block,
the inward curve

of your rib & hip
where my head fits perfectly into

& can smell where you might have been
the past few days

wandering
around in the wooded areas or
where ever you go with your light steps.

invention

edge of the chair cuts off circulation in your legs
these are my legs that get puffy with blood in them

when you walk it feels funny, numb parts hurt
& that doesn't make any sense

needles dig past your teeth into those
pink gums

you can smile now
the easy part has already been done

& you know
when they touch your face to make freckles
i get weak.

soft parts

write down oh my gods in a sequence
like, oh my god more than one god

you used to call, or what name you
used to say was me, say me again

i forgot that i love you is all, is in it--
invite me down to your apartment for

a kiss; what we want is awful
or what we want is all for the friendship,

so i kiss you
& write words on your hip
about why i remember things.

oregon

so the trees aren't enough to soothe
your forgetfulness of my color-

fullness. a rain grab bag of sorts
outs my joking demeanor

or how i wryly draw a pretty face
like yours out of my arm

gray is what you called it,
but i'm telling you

there were
bright yellows
wrapped around me.

lumber

press the bark against words still
in your neck; rough the feathers or

sweat smear on roughneck leathers
to find a softer word for bark

& listen to the wrong tree make
sounds of barking up it. then

soft birds fall onto a bed of feathers
when your speaking became an axe

with out asking if it was the wrong tree
or thinking to check
for birds in it.

gambling with effort

a apple chin, an apple us mash
the ferment sister pair, or does it slice the seed

you chew them easily as if your molars
dig,

beneath the tree that lays, i sleep about your name--
walk down the row when sun rain comes

for the friends you thought you hid, your naked parts;
maybe clay is a shapeless; mole it--

or the fatty part of your upper leg
that leaves the imprint,
& my jeans.

out of--

& i spelled that wrong
& i can call you any time in the a.m.

even if it mutes dawn, or an age & i
crave the warm rain & i

know the neck of you & i
map out each one & i fret the rock formations

& i smell the gaps of us
& i put my cheek next to the silhouette on the wall

or i--
make up words about you,
& i say:

glow

witness incision for the turn, or
were those your lips i sought,

listen to the cattle mew
for any electric fence, spiral necking

to see you
pour other drinks in the pink lemon--

read novels about evolving mothmen
& hear the dust land on

your bare feet
that shine in the sun-light
of my beard.

off shore; oh

followed the filling out of your
parts, notice the depth around grin craters

convex to the hollow hands, where round things
roll off when the window is open,

because the mold is growing black
& needs to be dried out, so it rains--

take you behind the backyard tree
to say:

i will pick up the dust of your bones
with my finger
tips.

hairy ass

the speed of my ambulance to your
ambulance takes time,

but i wasn't even alive for a long time
before i became, say ambulance.

hey, where did your teeth go,
don't worry, these things grow back; happen.

or locked in that cabin, maybe what it was,
thinking about the height of us,

strapped down to the bed covered in sweat,
while those tan people
laughed at things.

turn

polished broad, rub the soft parts of my feet
along your neck, hey grape ape,

maybe your apple will be; say we try this
again; maybe your apple will be apples.

know that when i might have kissed you,
small hairs on your wrist

the color of dust
stand up, dancing in the dark corner

of whatever room
we might have been in for
whatever reason.

arizona

brace yourself from the teeth; smiling
when the magic actually works, on us

forget to blink or eat the wind, bye bye
pass us through each pore, out one

body made of fleshy greens & in
the other,

carve the butter from fat baby arms,
fat lady arms break off in water,

but when all these movements
move
you,

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.