Yamalok

the sirens that wake me up or keep me up, slowing
are for you
no matter where they are heading

haunt me longer than any city you stay in
remember new york is also a city
or hearding buffalo

without effort you may rope me or
tangle your own toes
looking calf

how is the swimming around your island
did you collect shark teeth
the way i used to collect shark teeth

sore throat

tired of the telling me
my fear of cold water
a snake

let me leap
legs unbreakable
from chugging the tit

mark my oval pucker
around something more giving
stand out on the edge of a tall thing

there are no bridges worth that life of yours
calm the hungry birds
maybe they will share

my jaws stretched swollen
from bone forming
wake up spitting blood for a few minutes

I'm going to need that hand
your promises
make me laugh out loud at tornadoes

can the wind, wind, and the wind
hear me
over all this expensive wind

cabbage

im designating you as my ulcer
no I don't know what you
is
my gun is never loaded
dont let my enemies know
the earth isnt dying right
it should be wild
full of crazy shit
the gods haven't sprung on us yet
like thinking crazy
imaging my voice as strong enough
my actions
could save someone
like the pain as a person
hole in my gut
i'm leaking all over you
my stupid drooling
name calling it sugar pie
or how else am i supposed to remember

too much negative

balance

trap air in your mouth

is a space

like any other empty

galaxy

there is no air to need

alley fight

wander off to a red carpet
tape decks pulled outta yer car

by thieves
are we still stealin' it
the heat or the air or the water

resources, my ace
my sleeve

show the hands
i will take my gloves off


and fight you like a
god

parrot squawk

you forgot how poisonous you are
skag, feeding off my pit

my pitness
call the head a seperate neck top
falling off at the skull bone

shake your hair from the scalping
sharp knife fit hand glide

scrape, or gum the brain skin
with your soft mouth
of no fangs,

mouth words at me with sound
as if i give a damn
what i hear

hide

peek at the crazy in me
and run for the great plains
the belly of my body
naked under piles of dead nakeds
or my darkness
or my underground
bitter cherry dirt
squish the pulp out of the head
make the earth think
with my insides
i will never see the sun
or die here, i mean
i will never see me die here.

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.

neurolux

talk zombie at me ahyaya, cut the shit out of this
tooth melon. i'm going to eliminate the gods of us

banging fist face against table mirrors
as if you couldn't see the fuck you give

pray i don't eat the whole arm and shoulder
chuck your chuck up, tall boy

how tall is anyone with their eyes up
at the rim

where your gums are bleeding
and your jaw hangs by the last of your skin

numb
for mikey

feel the weight of your self on yourself
seriousness of limb loss
your milk is feeding every body
regrow
your accent
hair falling from ground to head
deeper than your the point
making a birth seem more important
than the fuck
that created you
beam for me with your light
take your tongue out of your mouth
leave your home at home
listen with your no ears

letter

i'm not forgetting you
or any other way you say it

i have put you in the back of my mind is all
where most things go to die

hopefully you are
ok there.

sincerely,

much

arms stretch long in pictures of arms
keep hand out towards your face
or read what the mouth is saying

the mouth is saying, sweetheart
please,

or at least that is what i see:
the tree shapes, the nipple
bark.

i cannot let you become me,
not even for a short while
sliding beneath skin

moving my hands.

doug obama

let me tell you a joke about the brother you don't have
it will start out smooth and get painful quick

say you saw him in the womb
before you decided to eat everything in your view

big black eyes
cut through cement

your teeth don't, in fact none of your face
will ever survive.

craig t. nelson

the weekend counts as one night,
sometimes
this dumb guy forgets what he eats, or is

late for work is always the end
some other guy gets the promotion
gets to be president
or god

i like the way you think in the underbelly
kicking the walls
of your mother

hey lets not get ahead of ourselves
wading in the kiddie pool
years ago

jobs

rolling kids for soda change outside the dairy queen

moon

brought into this world to be a boring
venom is the hawks case
and there will be no sign of her here
which the spot has passed
the attention placed on your moon finger
am i lost
again staring at star skies
the same way anyone would in the galaxy
being scared
being tired
being dead
is the pit of my pitness
pressed up against the inside of your metal you
cold shaded body
leaning toward warmth

poem thing

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

a wall there, pressing my face against it
to feel the cold move from metal into skin,

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

and questions are just words i don't understand
because my mouth parts wont 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

2k11
for 2k10

this isn't your big feet
this isn't you running
this isn't your wet hair
this isn't about your feelings
this isn't about how fat i feel
this isn't me talking to my dad
this isn't ready for that
this isn't going to be deleted
this isn't going to win
this isn't stacks of green backs
this isn't nap time
this isn't your ears when i kiss them
this isn't you punching me in the mouth
this isn't leaving a message
this isn't cool anymore
this isn't commentary on your old underwear
this isn't a disease
this isn't your bedroom body
this isn't the blood in my mouth
this isn't a fuck up
this isn't clean cut or business casual
this isn't the rest of my life
this isn't your neurosis
this isn't the neurolux
this isn't Hemingways grave
this isn't me crying at thanksgiving
this isn't funny
this isn't another acid trip
this isn't going to change without effort
this isn't zen
this isn't Sway with MTV news
this isn't going anywhere
this isn't San Francisco
this isn't a big deal to you
this isn't even a poem

killebrew

hammerin' at yer throat
call bull
pin ears back at the dirt
your about to tear up,

wind, wind, and the wind blowing
eases the exit

i like to do dishes, i guess
for fun
and pound rocks over walls with a stick
with those arms
you stole from your grandad
the strongest man in the union army

way back when
you stood on deck
with your whole life ahead of you

car smoke
for paul

and when i say punch it
punch it,
make me push the damn thing up a mountain,
say anything is a mountain.

i'm not heavy but i'm sinking into solid
rocks.
toss me another cigarette so i can quit that too.

i didn't even mark up my arms with all the glass shards
from the windshield.
then i forgot you didn't actually run me over.

forgot that i'm alive,
and can tell you stories about the times
when i needed just one punch to keep me in line,
nothing too serious.

bird

swallow as the seas



split by dam or be damned in it



chug salt rock



for the plague someone prayed for



it



pillars you



lost by the story ingraved



the pushing back of your soft organs



the ocean



rolls, a tumor fatter than sky



crawling even



with its waves



pressed between all other fish

no one hears me when i talk
talk

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
controling 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.

tar poem

spit blood every morning like
any man
my bones are too big
for this no bones about it
town,
i will drag my tongue across your knife
let the stars
fall from god and all his lofty shit.

spit tar

smile when i am naked
i cannot stand all your drooling
you and your control

of the ocean

though it is only wet space
liquified by my constant pummelling
skin surfing on sweat
that chokes out light from hot gas,

your pain in the ass
is not what im looking for
i tried to find the access of grinning

teeth are something i can say
feel the bones grinding
feel my spray on your face.

this isn't easy
the constant shock of shock therapy
your lake face
bright rash red scale

nectar

i forget to drink water,
you scoot, take your little wagon,
sometimes in the desert

shouting the dirty mouth,
bats fly over cactus to cactus
with these death parts between,

lucid dreams, or am i see-ing this for real.

i am a sucker,
blood honey, the whole nine,
bathe in stretched out rays

black spots left after scrubbing
decay is a tooth, tooth, tooth
smile.

scab

just notice with your thumbs
the tightest muscle
the blood rimming your tongue

how strong a womans back is
your job
is to anticipate

bought the plot
ready to say
ready

asking a man how you lost all that weight
eating
him

carve the dried part away
from something healthy
watch the puss milk

hearing the wobble in your voice
makes me
forget what you look like.

beard poem

walked past this blind girl
into the street

saw her once at the coffee shop in my office building
she turned and said
you have a beard

it was true, but i really didn't know what to say back
so i just smiled
but didn't know if she saw that too.

theres blood in my mouth a lot these days.
stars say im going to be dead soon.

i might shave tomorrow.
actually i will,
flower arrangement on my jaw--

drunk guys always yell at me
they see my beard too,
it reminds them of other people who have beards.

i told you the time my face was ripped off
you didn't know what to say either
so i just

politics

the name change confused me
she spells it like,
my president. or like,
the earthly image of venus as a woman
as a star
when my birth is closer to other stars
or why they tell me things are looking up--

gonna make more money this month.
she said
she was hurt,
long before the first Bush adminstration
as a joke.

my life
is in sequence by decades
out of line on the 4th year.

where was i
when i had my whole life ahead of me,
on my death bed,
in my dreams. even dying now.

zebra

throat the moon
shine cherries outta Tenn.

breathe fire, like a Dragon
push from the south diaphragm

my chakra bent drunk on mountains
makes you sorta squiggle

legs kick up
makes it sorta hard to go

hug

say where the bed goes, my smoking
indoors, windows open
damn humid inside

sweatty, or the bodies that don't stay there
telling them to shift around,
lake

swim, the fish that don't travel
miniature sharks
livng in a puddle.

when i'm older i will drink less,
maybe i will be able
to walk.

never odd or even

saw these
half the way in water is sunk

how strong must i be
to break the moon,

or a butt
sticking out of it's pants.

will you tell me
that this isn't fucked up.

earth day

sing a funeral, in your brain
random is.

death in a god will make you.
fake money, or faker anything to agonize,

wish for them back
the shadows of comfort

or standing there naked
quiet

wait for everything to notice
you exist.

your dad dies too

nothing strange happens
just laying there naked in the lawn
where the dog burries its shit.
come to conclusions.
think how normal it might be
to never speak to him again.
maybe still love him.
not sure.
you write a poem about it.
you call it a poem for your father,
remind yourself when he told you
the dog was hit by a truck
because maybe
he thought you would hate him
for telling the truth.

for ACK

a beaten filthy golve
flexes best around a pop-fly
swinging branches
pointing them out to distance
these are the jokes
call the sun big sun
call a girl anything
holding cigarettes in our left hand
waiting for the next sizzle
not at all like love, Jack
unless you know where it comes
from.
and noses to water
the motion of moon waves.
why would you scream at me
pain vomit,
why is the death of us so important

salt

im sporting the smell of your breath
i lick my own neck
with my pants down to my ankles
my body
floats on water.

morning

remember the deaths of.
that is not
where the hurt is.

watch the coffee drip.
you
don't touch it, yet.

i'm calling you to leave
a message.
please don't call back.

take away the hands.
soft
is a weakness.

forget to lock the door.
someone
is home. that you don't know them
is what makes it.

april

trim my nails for me, the toes
i'm moving to get away from you
all to silence myself.
i told you the sun would expand
came out of nowhere, there was nothing
hanging heat in the sky,
not enough water in the ocean
to put out a star,
too much chaos banging
from beneath us.
i told you i wouldn't bake,
told you i would save someone.
but there are too many, too many
ways to save myself.
my love will hold me accountable for hate
or the violence inside of me
that i cannot show.
blasting drums beneath the face of earth
you do not have to hate me
to hate me.
my smile does not mean i am alive.

breakfast

feelings of top heavy-ness, i steal
the chill bending over for spring

and isn't it odd?

monotony of mortal feeling
it was my love, my love, burning

centered around your form
there is always a shadow there is always
the face side.

throw yourself at someone who shows no interest
isn't it odd?

the difference is what we don't remember.
difference in monotony
this is your brain on mortality
this is your brain
livin'

end of the world

ambling, river walk hey lady
does the angelic flutter into dark
and rainbow trout
hides the hook hooked under a roundish face
ray of light, oh god
the gays!
ambling lazy street walk
the weather makes you
talk, a life like tornado
i am the moon ripping the waves of pain in your metal jaws
i am a songbird singing
i am the wind and the wind and the wind blowing
storms of jupiter into your mouth
Woman
sideways eyes on a snake gargling hiss at the black spots on its face,
the inevitable swollen sun
you are the watered lawn
you are the grass growing
Woman fosil, sinner of freedom
pressing the green against me
moon never sways
the lonely endless midwest
surfing to galaxies.

autobiography

wants to be
brutal too,
hammerhead shark-like
where the eyes are at,
burried under ocean.


doesn't remember the great compromise
ing it, make the sounds
leap off a do, or i
movement brush
forget what is covered up.


brutally
wises you over
with the glance of unshaded eye
sockets,
owl turning neck of her.


expanding sun, roast
makes the conscious beat
of what we can live,
ing it,
again, and then some.

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--

your body rubbed soft
red at the nubs,

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.

heavy

born on a lazy river
forget to drink water sometimes
losing the weight

i've gone on long
like my old lady says
sounds like catfish in here

land poem

O! ocean, humiliating in it's prairie
empty as space
no one is a poem; to read

greener than red sight, don't
yell at me when i'm
driving

this dirt
means i am working hard
on me

maybe the poem is aimless
enough
to find 3rd base with your chest
down to it

banana poem

so i was walking with this banana in my pocket that i was going to eat for lunch
and i kept wondering if people would say hey
is that a banana in your pocket or are you happy to see me
you know, as it goes
and i wouldn't know what to say if i WAS happy to see them
the either or, black or white
as if this banana in my pocket
causes me to hate everyone.

slope

remembering how young i am
eases the fear of existence

or what i am
supposed to know when i am older

wasn't meant to swallow that much
nutmeg,
wasn't meant to be so cute

poor isn't what i would dream,
sort of space travel
w/ beautiful women

where we

i was never more separate
than free, zone
off what i want to need

who i am, roll
down the window a crack

wind says whistle

jump while running
jump while standing

stand still
when the shit is scared out of,

i am sorry i loved you
i am sorry i lied
i am sure

about something,
my heart
never caught up with my aging.

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 down on that driveway
acting

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

find
moons everywhere

wall

happy was,
a hope is easy, sing
to say every thing is;

my love,
dust on what holds
wounds of repeated head-banging,
the wall

is white

happy birthday

here is your fancy death
skin drapes the bones

where did your nakedness go
full of the fat intake

laughing
was never worth it

when you realize how stupid it sounds
being in a universe.

where was your nakedness
grass blades break
under any foot push,

sprinkler bath, you make me
eat tree leaves.

i owe so much.
my underground looks
the way
i am hardly aging,

wet and sliding
across everything

woman

the fur touches
thought they were fair
at foresting
mushroom growth, or eat everything

gone
my fire hands, hot like coffee
a real
ball park figure
of a woman

smokes
closed windows before
never saw anything out there
i liked.

likes, like he likes
his coffee, as hot
as humanly bearable

takes his religion
to public parks
and is good at foresting

brass tacks

showing you/ your best hands
look like a mirror or all your hands
trophy wife gets old
legs fall off at my bites.

buy shoes again, waste of it
all the walking,
a room carpeted in greenbacks,

sweat your chops for midwest summer
job,

feed off/ the dying
you laugh at me when i come in fear
say, how are you.
answers fall from outterspace.

jesus

make me feel august as a car drives
get it just standing next to the bus
by all the other busses

i used to say that i have read
all the lord of the rings

but i never have.

there is only one city named Iowa City,
where i am from.

people say, jesus a lot. here.

kyle, i know, is out west where he's from.
i have no patience to head west. jesus.
he said, girls are a headache for sure.

i drink normal coffee drinks
and name them things.
like god would if he drank normal coffee.

when i wake up,
or i said the only things that get me going
are women and coffee.

she takes too
long.

over here under the colored light,
we pretend things are always.

i speak about drugs,
or tell people my father almost died.

inside i am almost me,
and growing some.

where i am going

my face the spring
need to be watered is everything

where the twigs, flowers, and grass grow
wind, wind, and the wind blowing

does swivel bridge cables;
hello fog.

even a desert needs,
but it won't take sand to make it

grow under the chin
red mark or eye chart i am failing.

what i meant was
to jump.

TREE POEM

WILL WILLOW WHIP
HER HAIR
BACK AND FORTH IN WINTER
WHEN
BITTER BREEZE BITES

THE CLEAR BLACK SKY

YOU CAN THANK YOUR FATHER
FOR ALL THESE STARS

lips

brisk your face of brass tacks
tell the mouth train to holler
back
atcha girl, i swell in the brain
when you see me see
how goddamned you can be

god

only my mother calls
me by my,
talk to my father
what i'm short for.

lets me know he almost died
or did
shaky in the talk of it
knows the way

growing in home
doesn't have to end,
dad doesn't have a time
line

doesn't have to
create anymore.

moonlight

say georgia the way
you talk, the dust bowl settles
in west nebraska

the way a farmers blow describes
i know
beautiful things,

ruffle the feathers of these crow
shes a real ballpark
figure

standing there where the corn wont
grow, listening
where the train is headed

kryzewski

all men need suits for;
boys do
she was bucked by a bull
in florida, kicked in the chest

did you fall
for it, my greener eyes
canals full of gators

i wanted to kiss
the neck

you came back
to speak to us
through the microphone
held
at the hole in your throat.

morels

write about the fake ways
i know you,
lions mane growth near the city
woods,

thinking about travel words
and such about up
and then the up

write about a poem for you
question the for you,
or what you are for, ears
of mushroom

i just keep thinking about
the things i said.
how you cook them, things.

speak hush to the rib,
chest-webbing
nibbling slowly around the edge.

speak

does it make the news
i was cough--
car pulled too far up the curb,

do you remember
looking at the light,
wind showing the outline, where i will go bald.

can i tell you
how high i was before i called you
and said nothing, over and over.

sunglasses poem

need new pair of sunglasses
need the sun
to leave,

bright mirror or
dusty mirror
or i
am the sun.

the sun is always here. some
times,
like globes.

do you mind that i call you
in california,

or if i wanted to.
sun.
globular is a pretty ocean,
sun, not just a lake of fire

not just the cool look
of sunglasses

memorabilia

in the middle of my rainy days you
stopped
eating for some lengthy time
and made your way to the hospital
so i guess
i will remember sunny days for you

gone bad

flaws form with winter
ending; melt. i call the girl
back, say i am sorry
for feeling blank, still
remember you left the potatoes
in the cupboard beneath
the sink where they
sprout in darkness.

on the shape 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 Misourri 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 sandhills
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

da bears

meet me by the harry caray statue
tell me about
the good old--
demi-gods running on diamonds,
find me
a place to eat where i can eat chicago
ask the guy who just
walked out of the
liquor store
where is the united center
and i know
drive through south chicago
think
that its funny
how scared you are.
eat a fucking huge hot dog.

feel occupation
for gould

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

february

tell you about the sugar
i consume
or the winter other than weather
just say
a lot of cool things
like the weekends, see
i am a sucker
for purity
or whatever it is
you call it.

aquatic center
for anthony

did i make that last one up
or these new
sheets i bought

for you again, i think so
so about it
i am lying

about how good i am at
swimming
with propellers on each hand
gliding through the water
like a fish.

we said rhymes were silly
or just off
rather
we could just repeat the words

but you aren't paying attention
anymore, just
thinking about me swimming.

horse
for gabe

not really your face to show
van stache, cashing in on the high end

after the camels got there chance
the also-ran runners ran

at last, so i'm stoned
picking up left-overs so

the kid cries
about his hot dog i snatched

you can't bet that
he won't leave it around these tracks

poem

i had a flask in my pocket, whisky, some change
laying on my back, drive-way
the clouds where your head tops
broken in there.
the pigeon shark, the peregrine.
you were made for this city,

snow goddess, spit on your season rite,
focusing on the birth of things,
of more yous only... stranger. i
sound like a sad man i guess
but my back is grounded
with fire belly full of answers

drive after we
a poem for a poem

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

facebook oriented sci-fi novel

the movie 2012 was the modern retelling of
the great flood
when the gurus of facebook
get fed up
with making all that crazy greenback
and suddenly with out warning
vanish
facebook
from the walls of the internet
to revel in their new found demi-god status
while the world
eats it's self in the chaos.

george w. bush

i tried feverishly
to get it done
get it over with
i tried violently
so i wouldn't think
about fucking
all day at work
i tried everything

this morning

charm me a late sleeper
kid?
i know who hogs the sheets.

grab at you with my eyes
shut
reaching for your snooze.

horoscope
for taurus

when i see you in my spring i
kick up dirt
next to a lake i used to dream
i drove one of my old cars
a white cavalier my parents bought me
to get rid of money before
their bankruptcy
i drove the car into a lake
in my dream
and somehow this is about you

sand.gravel.limestone V.

did you expect me to be
this beautiful
bum you my arm for awhile

tell the day god, day
god
keep this thing going on and on

so the she of it stretched my
everything
i said
begin with the nose
so she

knows that i cannot be trusted,
and keeps thinking
of why i might not be as
beautiful

becoming, of you

thats how i met my
current girlfriend, overheard--
etc. stories
of how she bathes like a flamingo
pink; pees down her leg,
digs through soil as some-other
animal
searching for crawling meals

the girls i love
make a museum few would care to see
even w/ minimum donation;
stiff-dead grizzly bear
in mid-fish.

anyone

round me off at the back-bone
under my kidney
so i will know your wing-span

the speckled mole line
where fingers will run
know that i have been there before

but yours
is the one that makes me
lay on the floor
watching your shows w/ you.

beans and motherfuckers

tell the story of how i never
peed the bed
and the purple lightbulb

maybe some early sex dream

the roads are dangerous tonight
so i can use
war slang like in the shit

million-dollar-wound

someone once told me
about roadies blowing cocaine
into stevie nix' ass

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, kinda like
poetry is not.

sand on the cement for slip
control'd behavoir
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

river poem
for reggie

when i is all there is
i

river you,

see the movement
salt on
the bottoms

the lazy way
i
will never

the bloody thing
mend with water

binds
the rest of i

minnesota

the slick leaves
i wiped
out on my bike in front of the drivers ed car

i know how to swim i'm just
bad at it
reminds me of swimming naked in the pool

and im walking now
while im writing this
down
my calves and shins a wreck

i think of you though
walking
faster than me

the genie of rock falls

'dutch' reagan wished
he could be an actor
maybe a cowboy from brooklyn
a kid can dream
for cheap cigarettes anywhere

swinging ladies from swinging vines
turning anything into wine

locals claimed a miricle
when two menards sprung up
next door to each other,
the selfish and their wielded weapons

the distance is a river,
no the stretching arm of want
claims more lives than a boot
legger,
where is your boot i ask

can you fix your pot holes
can you stop slashing our tired travel
because i said i would be
the coolest person in rock falls

someone already wished for that,
fifty years later
they were able to wish for it again
right before dying
because, to be cool is more than a fonz
more than being
the next american president.

chicago made paul go bald

the messes of dircetions
extended caffiene life
forms the top

yell out the moving car
fog, why are you still here

then it clears
for the towers
the one with the richest
woman in the world

she will never be my woman,
she will never ride in my car
lost through south chicago
blasting biggie smalls
waiting for the fog to clear

beard poem
for paul

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 lonliness

or the spit
on my hands

to grip the grip tighter
to nail it

to leave my face
at home.

print

form of worship, your head
on my thigh, pillow dog
i am less naked when you are
looking

the befores and afters are when
my clothes come off
or simply wont hide

you found the time
when the sidewalk
was smoothed.

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 unmoveable buck,
hip tall boots
grabbing at river darts

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

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

merry x-mas

haiku 27

write this down about you
without you's

why am i fixed
on parts that will break

on this body there
is no body at all

poetry reading vidz

CHECK OUT VIDEOS OF R. WOLFE AND ME AT OUR FIRST FRIDAY POETRY READING :D thanks jessica

sex poem

sewn in by the winter monger,
sweat feet in the dark, socks,
walking.

does the Atlantic make you gravy;
heroes and heroes are the same
as anyone making it.

it is just work,
the things i do for you, you etc.
kissing your hip too soon.

it is a bone but
i would like to thank you for
the sex i guess.

porn poem
formerly known as kryzewski

a proverbial winter wonderland, i
never saw it coming

beautiful ice sculptures of naked women
and large
toys

my brother lost his job when the porn shop
burned down
many people lost their
jobs

the things you can see, or subject them
into being actual people, on fire.

i haven't decided how it might affect me.

the only time i have ever been in a porn shop
was for moral support
when dane wanted to buy playing cards with naked fat women
on them.

that was around christmas too.

hong kong foot

hard as it would be to wash some socks
for your boy

let him run around outside barefoot
for the wild of it

make him dream of playing football
for jon madden

science fiction

everything burns

the minutes i sing song,
another man, or man thing--

exit beauty, you
on heels. call me.
venomous coward/inward boy

know that you leave me; know that
when two quirks combine
a mass is lost or
i wont think about that