No.

4 Notes On Ending
Sean Mitchell Finney

1
Copyright © 2019 by Sean Mitchell Finney

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“Had to destroy every camera to feel safe in my smile again,
because you're so good,
and because everything happens to you,
and because I can…”

plaque for shopping centers blessed with violin plays experience hat language like
adjustable screen volume,
head at nothing,
carve your neighbor grows bitter like love's breath mints,
self inflicted hair outcome,
begin an end…

"We are going to break a sweat trying to make this look easy…”

emotion press deep breath hollowed and jawline tomorrow...muted notes from a
handshake...a quarter buys control,
initials in your neighbor's arm,
toothache in wool coats...flask in the cut...love won't seem to mind this tomorrow...

their eyes and thimble tails...moon cycle blood...limbs tied with string,
bound to the red parchment morals of professional mental illness...stumbled and fell off
abandoned ship...you can see it all you're destined to make in you...

collapse under looters stratosphere,

topple under yellow in four lane breaking off needles in night to fair circumstance of
hunger,
sweet catatonic autumn...removed stubs...lights whisper prayers,
driving pedestrian Gods numbered…

“Warmth felt foreign...the moon of a distant equation...an isolated shelter...we are built
like a wound...an uncommon example of staring at photographs of your mother for
hours...oh but they have just informed you that you are very happy...and you are not the
wall...this force continues through you...without you…”

shorts worn by homeless church when wagons mangled eleven o'clock news,
old towers and needles penetrating...find a way to drown in night
city...love...cement...window wipers wearing embrace followed at hills sonatas...

goddamn hands...not escaping...eyes were mulch and untouched before...nothing,

3
fractured necks...your shoes...our grandchildren were beginning professional sports
bloopers...a rare danger...don't know you can listen...celebrates a leap year...retires
throat...these tremors shake the rabbit through cell bars...these delusions…

“Mark the demons of a cold sweat...inspired...wouldn't seem real...the cryptic half heart
of a brain injury...left it all behind in a bucket for the rain…”

a lot of things that will take note of a throbbing train shared laughter often that is just
more…more than gauze candy wrappers,
more than hated this…where the in between leave and just stood and played his and
ourselves with selfish,
here as a boy made of noise…but just imagine what kind of dream in your hair…
adorable…don’t wear music and hates dancing…

“There are going to be a lot of things that will not rhyme with the sound of your
heart...these monasteries show us a dead strange Paris…”

could be moth eaten presented posted…tears bleed milk…post apart…drive apart

minutes kill at a bus depot,
young man between his knees…baggage purse minute chained down television,
shake your married…leave return dream,
wear jacket sneaking sips in restroom stalls is the anticipation,
waiting for an out…

rations of the ships…waiting for the shacks to being alone in a room of feathers…dream
anything somewhere that is laughing at me…pain makes you want her,
little ball is recovered in mud,
blood clearly through this fog…hope hers…tear,
weeping a kiss,
never…definitely never…our eyes,
air felt cold outside but maybe it’s epitome…

“You once described the gentle clicking of insect hearts...a catatonic embrace...throbbing
train wrecks...minutely mechanical despair...a makeshift purr...and we shared laughter…”

feel safe in your smile again…and because you can…trying to make this look easy of a
distant equation…an isolated staring at photographs of you are very happy and you are
not...

braced death back there in that blank there…blue of white skin the starting again,

4
starting again,
into my mother’s womb please,
doctor said…I’m sorry but it is such a procedure has not been…

he is going to lose some of his company where ever it is they go…was she this under and
no one has a fairytale in the backseat of a Lincoln anymore…soundscapes and
personality,
what are you laughing at over there…run them down the streets…

“Red skies of embers,

irrelevant eyes distilled,
warmth,
brush of a wet palm…”

this is not washing out of the rest of them…hate to love to just run and a razor to apple…
do not think that you are for kindling and fun…

"No shame in getting shot by a woman I always say…”

mark the demons of a cold sweat injury,

left it all behind in the sound of you,
once described the gentle wrecks,
mechanical love you like the stars go crazy…red sky of embers irrelevant…

“Ghosts,
red and labored,
line the mirrors where she smears lavender lipstick on those blister thin lips while boys in
lobbies whimper and mourn. ..“

knock on the door and the lights go eyes,

right now…hear you to my bed at night wearing the same and my back blood runs down
to ever feel this alone again…I…

“Hallway lit up with braces and a mask,

oh where did we find her…"

there wasn’t any air at all…cold repeat envelope luggage infomercials…white room as a
child cold blue wish memory turns a white card red,
this must be,
oh yes…gone fishin’…smell of burning paper,

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remember it,
a man walked where it is safe and warm,
away,
impossible to perform…

“Sugar,
spice,
blood of strangers,
ash stains and coffee,
a place with a shower,
absent and surveying the streets below,
listing off,
one by one,
things worse than being affected…”

an extravagance,
these warm membrane of thoughts for your delicately chipped porcelain…blossoming…
celebrating…watching a stranger yawn...they shared pages of a book and he wanted only
to feed the mutiny as occurred on this rehearsal space for every mistake…

"Do we know that we worry...that we fear?"

down her delicate throat,

your revolver to the temple…a hell cancelled two wars,
counting we hadn’t known,
borrowed a few of your emergencies…pale static of imagined voice,
female,
not a phantom limb…taste of organic honey…

crowd gets where traffic honks…clown intervenes religious in disturb gas powered and
electronic reports,
tea munching stale crumbs…sun will ride girls…read skin…know it’s language
slipped…

sportsmanship hand together at the genitals…little girl arms…shoulder pale urine passed
through banquet last suppers for fists turn pale scabbed over eye peach skin never to
know God or hardwood of the brain hue nightmares twilit baring tomorrow…this
happens legs cold tired…

“There's a lesson here,

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somewhere...the razor wit republic...the doll gaze eyes of a horse,
crying logic in the bath water,
our heads submerged victorious...stripped bare of your predators,
stripped bare of rhythm,
mercy…”

farther along as you like but this is me that I can make a fist as well as in the corner
whom you just loved away…right...like no one’s ever slipped inevitable fragility…

beards of the ceiling,

bridge of his nose,
his parted lips are drawn,
red and yellow lights through fabric sliding to the floor…his cheek nudged and lace in
yellow bedroom lights across…

“Endless examples of the moment they found her,

those inevitable bloodshot blues,
crimson leaks swelling those platinum blondes...oh what kind of shattered glass could
have been lodged,
then,
down her delicate young throat…"

yes like right now there’s a lay down the horn and close yourself beneath the surface…
you could crawl in,
wouldn’t be there again…your flashing lights…hands behind throat stains in asphalt…
didn’t want the luck and choices…

“Your revolver to the temple,

A hell of a conversation piece...held my breath in a basket and cancelled two
wars...counting your sisters,
blindfolded,
submerged...cryptic in the shallows...wish we hadn't known…”

free and isn’t that you that is why I watched him die but you remember today,
he is playfully unsure of himself…umbrage and recourse,
something to somebody…right…you can come closer,
as close when she doesn’t…it is littered like a nurse…

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“Borrowed a few of your emergencies in hopes of returning them one day...pale static of
imagined foreplay,
lifeblood and thump of erratic heartbeats,
familiar…”

coming to believe this could never be the greatest loss…escort the sun inside to this
crap…even music and can taste the carnival and train cages to pieces…much like London
herself…disillusions essential to mask…

“Body,
and temple,
and ritual...all arms tied and membrane,
no comfort for your wasps that the heart will not break,
or conquer,
or swell...end now,
complete and judged…”

breathing thing or we will spin around and you were there for me…better off nocturnal,
staggering degrees,
lessened,
happening to you,
ending for fear of its stink including aging the subject of conversation and opposed to
breath,
breathe…bandage with which to cry for more room,
take three steps down…

we were sorry we were in love but it sure as hell shouldn’t be any sewn together peeping
through window surfaces,
make a wish maybe you’re dying for real this time…but been so kind and wanted it that
time when you’re talking to yourself…

“I will borrow your sleep from time to time,

letting your resurrections flip through the channels for a little while…”

false telegraph assassination attempt country get married socket of a hug the orgasm voter
bulletin roadside attract like a brain dead piled thought laughing like scars cheekbone
peach fuzz Christ sitting down flowers…sense of joy that sweet sewers fall again…
basement hospital sinners…our father,
together crescent moon…

8
of someone who does not bleed choices…sand between his lashes,
a long show as he grips her hands in his…pets skin like paper,
can’t learn a hymn and couldn’t reproduce…

teeth torn through holes where eyes brace to scrape…rust old to elastic and passed
brutality motel rooms with birds that won’t fit…following failed on foreign leaders…
explain itself during children grow darkened tunnel…deaf anything but out like ether…

rough white lace nuzzled softly on hers…loss unlit alleys and threaded…

“The wave of the shell is a staggering thing...obstacle nocturnal,

degrees lessened…”

uttered on the table,

shot glasses going to be that good…bit lips so hard the taste that no church could ever
pain…smell of honey…

of a conversation piece…hold sister’s blindfolded submerged in hopes of returning them

in foreplay lifeblood and thump of erratic little brother separated scratched and mother’s
milk on his lips…

will dance for her,

the lined association and landmasses,
a danger to herself and kind in its final curtain drop lights of endorphins and age,
the dull hues of a crescent…

"Do you ever really know what's happening to you?"

postcards freckled in benches…child born tight after confession time on hands,

staring much,
how else can you laugh…eclipsed anatomic expressways passed low income sights
tempting picturesque stagnant incomplete,
does not know herself everyday…
“You should have worn that dress…"

up and sideways to the pink of her neck,

drain thickets and sparks in her sound,
beyond leaves and sand she swore to embers of a classic fear for church bells,
or rather she held at all for that matter feeling rather…

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inspired wouldn’t seem real…a bucket for the rain…these monasteries show us a clicking
of insect hearts …a catatonic despair…a makeshift purr…wet and distilled…

“An extravagance,
these warm mice,
their eyes and thimble tails,
coffee grounds,
eggshells,
A thin membrane of thought for your moon cycle blood…”

pillow talk death building and floors construction cigarettes television nurses and sailors
arm winks warm marmalade for another derail on track marked blind to light of peak in
lisp drawing legs and veins and exhaust pulls factories billowing song…

“Delicately chipped porcelain,

limbs tied with string,
bound to the sibling revelry of a stranger's blossoming pear tree...celebrating the red
parchment morals of your financiers,
awkward intimacy of getting punched in the face...like watching a stranger yawn…”

wrapped selfish around his torso on a bare pillow at the other and looked through the
outline ritual…all arms tied and membranes alley break…or conquer…or quake to time
your resurrection…

“A mutiny has occurred on this abandoned ship...you can see it all here in the medical
report...a rehearsal space for every mistake…"

a shower and being affected…doll gaze eyes of a horse,

crying from your predators,
bloodshot blues and crimson leaks should have been lodged then…

know what they used to call a suicide…a broken heart…dead of a broken heart…feet
dangling in the barn…mud in the tread eye after an intimately sweet fuck…you can sense
that smile faded of the rest of it to acknowledge our intimately sweet fuck…

you want to scream your terror tear the damn mountain right down to three men is all
you’ve got…the right fully nude but for suspenders,
the blood on the leaves of the shielded woods wanted to be your little brother where the
moon is supposed to be…

10
nipples that taste like ash waiting for the bus,
stay awake for your favorite canvas and glue for possession…more than I can tear…this
was a portrait of a man crumbled in bipolar frustrations…complications…a frightening
thing to realize…

they want to propagate shiny little colors under there…delicate intimacy of family as
relaxed and wet to the touch…cancelling out any storm of cloud to wear your orphans for
the insides of you…

the cotton sheet they’d share,

her lying throat turned over on body and temple that the heart will judge and borrow your
sleep from little while…

“You want to scream,

your terror is static,
you want to sing,
and throb,
and moan…”

they called it…died from a weight with a contented smile…inner joy…and she has the
whole blonde acre with barely the breath in a basket and cryptic in the shallow’s wish one
day,
erratic heartbeats…a familiar wishing me to pieces,
turns itself over…

spiral evolved of her as his lights like gibberish went draining down…interest in things
unwinding…particular fondness for any bell that potential be restrained until his legs
binding him…cleared near dark and it is no comfort for your wasps…end now complete
through the channels…

because you’re so good…and shelter built like a mother for hours…oh but the wall…this
force continues…

“Tear the damn mountain right out of its cage…”

breath raised peach fuzz on the back spoken in storm exhaust…threatening siren deciding
where I am a prison for you…wind in bones within herself,
a particular disdain used for church…any bell not used necessity asks for identification…

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“Fully nude but for pink suspenders,
she is possessed of an intricately delicate relationship with the blood on the leaves of the
bushes in the ether and binding vines of these venomous and shielded woods…”

not supposed to be any easier than this…only gonna piss off fate…through locks trapped
in,
you were there,
lick them dry into the rest of them and for that you shouldn’t have known…

for clipping your excess,

a trick or follow to command…dozen…

teeth but there will be plenty other when they leave him alone in the oval sense of fear,
commotion line there…what are you burying…

"I want to be your little brother on adventures to the black hole of thoughts where the
moon is supposed to be…”

mud in the tread eye…level to her sheets and sleep sounds gentle when the dreams rouse
with conscious in that dirty luck less than an hour…

sadness than a bump on between word games you total toy dresses…stampede the
renegades on thin wisp and ticks of wooden surface…AM states a death would shake free
of your jump out the attic and twist…

“He is going to lose some of his teeth but there will be plenty other bits of him left over
to keep them company where ever it is they go when they leave him alone in the world
again…”

and there is no lip held in place with face the turn of luck from the test due to random
damaged dance anthem…where did we find her,
sugar…spice…blood of strangers,
that there’s a lesson here somewhere,
logic in the bathwater…our heads stripped bare of rhythm,
mercy,
endless examples of the moment swelling those platinum blondes…

“Was she this under,

this sphere and oval sense of fear,
commotion,

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retrieving...I'm on fire,
I'm fine…”

and retrained where we were supposed to be found in arm cast for a minute those who
never think of themselves…

“No one has a fairytale in the back seat of a Lincoln anymore…”

rumors of their former sense of touch,

bottom of a piece of the back of you now…but at least lovers bleach lined washtub
surfaces,
none privileges he may have had feet…this secret is best viewed in you again this
season…

“Soundscapes and personality ambitions…”

beating armchair New Hampshire,

experience looped the neck hanging into a dog…this isn’t starting over,
it’s what it’s like,
and said I would like to be put back…and the doctor procedure,
and the man asked…

“What are you laughing at over there...what are you burying at the other end of that
hill…"

of a slovenly pretentious ape…mama will claim this to be apothecary and really scary
inflammation,
the blink generalization of course…female sews paper clippings…others…misaligned for
the opaque lepers in progress…you can tell in that eye that she is in want of possession of
your arms,
temporary moon in those little bead eyes…

brass of pink Mexican eye sore knives,

strap on in July weather comes with you…narcotic,
the rest is foreplay…figs tower markers lighting traffic transients…the sunken in arm on
a Saturday and second step into the sun swerves elephant mist mornings behind…do not
windows…

minutes ago when the cards were scattered better than you…but it’s not always running
through and we were married in a way I would shrug with a grin asleep,

13
sniff powders for the turning blonde water black…

“Run them down the stream as farther along as you'd like but this is not washing out of
my goddamn hands…I'm not escaping…”

very last of societies and we seas for renovated business as converses openly with puff
intelligence,
a fatal certainty for man backstage,
gentle,
orphaned,
this bright scar tissue to a fine paste…

“You're going to assume I can make a fist as well as the rest of them…"

cover behind age beneath eyes across legs that don’t smell loses your sweeps with breeze
of firebombing implode laughter burned yellow leaking linoleum curtains and precision
programs dining of boxcar Sunday after murdered five seven and contortionist…

ash stains and coffee,

a place with off one by one things worse than fear,
the razor wit republic…the doll eye submerged victorious,
stripped bare they found her…inevitable shattered glass…

of a civilian sensibility…breaking even is questionable…lipstick on those blister braces

and a mask…

“Good Christ...I feel like the old man in the corner to love to be hated to run and run so
far the hell away…”

grounds…eggshells,
a thin sibling revelry of a stranger’s intimacy,
your family for the rest of your life…here in this medical report…a rotten cake life
tomorrow…

“His eyes were mulch and untouched,

right,
like no one's ever slipped a razor blade into an apple and banana before…”

static you want to sing and out of its cage,

14
edge and shape of things…possessed of intricate brush strokes in ether and binding
adventures through sad escalation…

“Nothing but fractured necks,

the inevitable fragility of a hate crime.
no,
I do not think that you are free,
and isn't that your diaphragm lying on the dance floor?”

again haunted like a librarian’s head,

thick nightlight blinding here,
fences nylon thick and crumbled…hazard to self,
ridiculous animate,
these women,
they fever pitch what is happening…

“Kindling and fluorescent bulbs...that is why I couldn't watch him die…”

you remember the last thing blinking…sugar tree accuracy got to be worth…sure that
you don’t step in secrets…the heart is not turned away from you then…

“Blink and tell me the last thing you remember and you’ll tell me again without blinking
then…”

no shame in getting shot by a warmth brush of a wet palm stink and a blind wondering
the time and zero other eyes and when would it ever really not just be ghosts,
red and labored,
line the thin lips while boys in lobbies whine…

disrupts those who placed grin holding life like every egg sold for task fabric between
layers of season’s faith hands at wrist old tattered…

dawn this happens aches medical condition through dry wall the mind tree light halo…
city is rhythm weeps,
blurred and stream and stone pock empty painted sewn complete baring inclination of
structure spreads at a loss blank space casting mind historical documented on bottom…

“Sugar cane accuracy and a bullet for trained celebratory marching bands for goats,
fleas…toxin…”

15
smoke and fog the sewer would craft territory urine taste a bite to the throat never floor
blankets pocked with prayers blessed…shot down suction breathing out old that bit left
stitches of the feet cut in line spite their eyes…dim the light blessed incubators…

“He is playfully unsure of himself…”

there is a fixation obsessive gyration spoon into a ring to me muddy like the feeling of
wear the feathers profusion this is only a beginning,
the only thing not static in this world can’t seem to cold rain to know when to let go
between a second when embraced…

“Roger that,
umbrage and recourse...find a smile without fear...worth something to somebody…"

with something and maybe it’s harder stop complaining boy…shattered out you’re maybe
not dying the loved you fifteen minutes a suppose and don’t even…is it you…are you
there…is it…

lying there on the dance floor,

blink if you can tell me that again without marching band for goats fleas oxen himself…
how do you find a smile without as you want…but you have to make exaggerate she feels
like she’s keeping the features in those hallways…

bits of him to keep them world again on retrieving at the other end of that hill…

“You can get closer...as close as you like...she feels like she's keeping secrets when she's
not exaggerating...heart isn't purple,
it is littered like a nurse...features in those hallways you turned away from when you
entered here,
this place…forward…now…"

counting off the colors of a nightmare guitar playing melt a silver never fall apart houses
flooded with people and children’s voices in the anymore…except for violence and
thinking it’s out there in the open boy shut up I know what I’m doing…stained…fogged
up…too much noise we find our way…the address in the warmth in those red cheeks…
impossible see the world that way…warmth here…

“They want to propagate the rumors of their former sense of things again,
haunted like bedrooms and kitchens,

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shiny little bottom to a piece of the back of your head...thick nightlight binding colors
beneath us...I may not have you there,
but at least I had you then…”

but here they are,

just noise…my heart,
it angles in the back of you…in herself…a brief embrace…

apart beating the dawn passed engine pull lamp price of high dive into swimming pool
isolation reservations on moon evening under lines grooved side of so on communal
lonely monk for romance loss…stitched and bandaged moss…

“A delicate intimacy of family as lovers,

bleach lined washtub surfaces,
nylon thick,
crumbled,
relaxed,
wet of your touch…”

around and it will tell you as a let down…complete night valley the way down to her
belly in this house…more time to reveal the humanity…

“Veined,
cancelling out any phone privileges he thought he might have had,
hazard to self,
ridiculous fighting bells,
storm of cloud and feet,
secret best viewed inanimate,
these women,
they want to wear your orphans for you again this season...my friendly fever pitch...what
is happening to the insides if you…"

and I tend to sabotage myself…some out some one off in the distance,
heartbeat in bathwater…your head bent whatever you needed to,
wanted to…and neither of us would ever go home…and this is not a test…the sirens…the
flash slope of chin…knife wounds guess it’s just a little bit about luck…

“Nipples taste of ash,

her long board lying across her knees like school books,
and no one is waiting for this old bus in the dark…”

17
empty bottle lament to knocked over wish it could have been either…scars the color of
vaginal pearls…ribbon became sucking on a mouthful of understand and what of the
money…silence down terminal…you’ll wish…

in freckles coarse thin to mark crossing hold a rosary again clockwise at corners of
downtown emotion of the soles pock scars mangle hounds…false witness to
impressionistic canal endless complete…

“Stay awake for your favorite program...it will not resuscitate you like a lip held in place
with canvas and glue for possession of a dry smoldering leaf...cannot face the turn of lock
any more than tearing these satin curtains tight out of my eyes…”

the wave of the shell is a staggering thing you’ll want to hear…too bad…outstanding
weevils…obstacle nocturnal…do you ever know what’s really a granular embracing
rinses it off clockwise as she changes button and I remember that we’ve constructed our
own language on this soil…more wind for this sky…

always say of youthful rebellion the damnation matters when the long legs are rot return
to this life and the answers ruin it completely……mirrors where she smears lavender
whimper and mourn…hallway lit up…

lanes fall hotel medicine…love is narcotic low bathroom light cocks hanging still tunnels
where they make up their own…rough two…each other for the rest of drift asphalt
cracking underwear inside out chamber city is orphan who does not rough midnight
under bridges over streets…buildings passed constructed faces hiding blistered with
age…

fences mother’s nature cloud and son dice in straw huts fireworks fat there is hope
dime…termites jab the down young boy strips their arms under bridges hang bottle lands
of fog trying…wander barricades into family that won’t open abandon falling…

head and wrapped in gauze some days evade our renaissance redo interiors smoke the
back of this barn thatched and circular you are of course the will to live to allow there is a
little inchworm nest…you’re the sort that loves…

had to destroy every camera because everything happens to we are going to break a sweat
warmth felt foreign…the moon wound uncommon example has just informed you that
you through you…without you…

18
“This was a portrait of the man who crossed a street with a thermos,
flannel jacket,
crumpled bipolar frustrations,
excused from further testing due to random adulthood complications,
staring in the attic,
brain damaged dance anthem truce…"

varicose lamps bus stop,

grass chlorine stretching skin,
chicken fools concrete fish cross stitched laying fields too…streetlights outside windows
marked urban in uniform old behind...iridescent photosynthesis foul rubs empty thrusting
aimless city is lover stranger sockets…

there is a line between restrained…there were valleys in there once…rabbit crow egg
train snail…train ride strewn newspaper pages…look at them there snorting…my world
is going to be misunderstood…not always a simple thing to trust of it at least once in a
while is it…

long board lying across her lap little bark program it will not resuscitate you of a dry
smoldering leaf…cannot curtains right out of their eyes…know who crossed the streets
with florescent sounds excused him at me in the attic like a brain damage…

“Frightening thing to realize,

often,
that it is just more...than sadness,
than a bump on the head,
medicine wrapped in candy wrapper gauze…"

sob and moan donor the symptom rat mole ornately delicate relation to branches of these
venomous colors to the black hole of thoughts…

his focus on stains in the wooden palm wiping gently down the bedroom window where
curtains,
delicate motion,
ghost of white nails red with dust tearing fabric…silk lined worm of a feeling crept…

first room wound is fused storm…second room is not a room but second doctor
bearded…kind eye sewn shut…hands work methodical blue sutures holding there
barely…

19
pretty pictures yes,
feel the grain,
shoulder of one hand…the knife resting until it digs pretty and stops of shouting…are we
a way through them,
the dirt road where it stops red sky of embers…irrelevant eyes of wondering those zero
other eyes…
“Some days,
where is the in between,
word games...couldn't just stay and stood and played with his toys…"

transplants his educational videos on sessions for viewing tendrils of soft warmth,
fierce most of it for later…the last as will my own fibers sincere and ponderous,
mourn the fleeting,
not in the script…it is now have known you…to have…

delicate lovely work of art…just am suffering from random lady concerns,

matters in this hospital hard to catch not compare again…protective with epilepsy has an
occasion to memory loss scrapbook…all headlines woke at went to tablets to keep the
swelling down…honey and mother’s milk on his lips his sister and a stuffed walrus…

“Soon,
evade ourselves of plankton silver dresses,
stampede the renaissance,
Redo the interiors and replace ourselves with the selfish renegades on the thin wisps of
smoke in the back of this barn I found,
here,
as a boy,
made of drift noise,
wood tick surfaces,
thatched and circular…"

the long legs are questionable when would ever the bottle in me sleeps…warm calmed
own breeze when I was a boy…mucous membrane across the wall and where are the
lights on this train have elapsed…couldn’t believe it if you never know if I can hurt
you…right now long because sometimes it’s hard thunder when you bring your hips…

start with the truth at bed time they’ll have nightmares…nightmares suit them be
reasonable please next life I promise...bed sheets and oil means cracks in tile where little
bare feet always a woman to convince or married…thought occurs that the words like
static…

20
“What dream states your ending might allow,
inchworms in your hair,
shake free of this nest,
the sort that will jump out the attic and twist in your shoes…"

don’t get me wrong your girlfriend in the back of my car just now and it’s hard to catch
that train…it’s all that me in the closet where her love will force into a fit and identified
figure looking through headlines to know taste of organ…

what percentage proposed would authentic real meant you and possibly not even the
thing in fact have been aging man or woman fornicating their innermost deeply seeded
car lies there dying picturing parked out for them to be…

was waiting for but did I know it over waking bliss where we fucked occupancy marriage
of days…

cosmos dirt have shared to and loved us…you don’t see…scared her…this was how they
respected…

scrap left in the book jacket somehow it becomes winnings this world is ours as where
corruption is barely as politics hope whether false the monitor pale static and antique
formations translucent…

“Professional sports bloopers,

truly the greatest loss of the fire...a rare danger,
escorting the sun inside...celebrate the leap years,
taste carnivals in the back of your throat…"

this mantel an image of his departed tomorrow he will take a single nap recipe for apple
pie on a napkin and think to himself his son was middle another city didn’t write or call
his junk filled what little clock along with the old records and cassette tapes guitar
strings covered dust in wardrobe watches money clips old bottles fade magnifying glass
old cigar boxes children anymore…

long way around the barn like it’s a drain…is born with shard of crumble glass in one day
he loses a dirt road in the parked cars looking for his lost piece of institution for a short
while…

21
of yet another bottle…the shadows be the general percentage of apology…realize of
course the red is a perceived in all honesty yes of course judged crucial painful insane
with their absolute most deepest fears themselves…what men could…

“These tremors shake the rabbit cages to pieces...much like London herself...a brief
embrace through cell bars...these delusions are central to my mask…"

her…until the curious trickle down my silent alarm draining upward…wood as I stand
gasping firm in tissue and nerves…

than walls open his eyes in use earn it damaged inevitable uncommon avoidable…of
ethereal foundations you coat flirtation subtle…we are the wild my girls God my lovers
and vagrants,
tea plumb lays and else where blood cork…

one split second and a lot of way and that I know you’re good trying to make it like I am
trying else entirely born feeling sorry and I want all the attention world must be saying
how other years you bet just not like this and please not of stagnant floods melancholy
blinding behind take less shed itself frantic…

"You do not give the impression of someone who does not bleed…”

cotton sheet…he shares the couch…it is a shamefully sobering experience…one’s life as

very limited and anticipated…weren’t so useless damaged goods but too bad if…
electronic sexual and sinew choke the skies…apply pressure to the beliefs you’ve never
been heard…

repeats skin care cancer ache in stranger’s thrush…unkind,

fatally so,
you understand carved in rooted horn of sand in day and night in full through what truth
never to be understood…alleyways,
their words,
you see…allegories,
none through weeds…oh honey it hurts…bliss haven leather,
glass and tongue,
barest of sand within clay adornments…simply to row to the left…ever to…

first time was the red,

a lover’s sweat in my hand,

22
felt the wrong plastic fragment scattering away…her form disappearing into the house
through the little shaped clicks and trembles…hand through framed glass…scatter
inwards…her form…

“A raised relief globe,

little maps to his choices,
red and blue lights flashing warnings in the sand...horizontal in park bench rows,
galloped between his lashes,
long shore for clipping your excess,
favorite steak of rust for old lovers,
rising mounds in palms and fingers as he grips her hands in his…"

inspiring flight left in you…smaller interpretations of self is what we’ve known pain in
broadside…lovers regards and trial…fully quit forever a long lived absolutely have to
make up for it in shatters…explains itself…north burdens…need…laughter…believe…
make believe the initial sensation…pale underarm flesh that scratching at initial attempt
so London scratched at her twisted delicate nature…more like that of night air having…

sister once to one day realize the full extent of climactic end of itself…I’d say what a way
and she laughed,
laughed…boy I’m just awkward little boy from the coast…devices at her yelling go to
the circus…seems that you are still being argumentative femoral artery…hurt but it’s
easy to trust you when strong you can let me hold you for you…

"Awkward creatures, rabbits...terrible pets...skin like paper,

can’t learn a trick or follow a command...dozen things in cages...wanted to love
them...and couldn't reproduce..."

change your handwriting,

eggs sunny side up elevators are repaired,
that’s where I died,
sifted bright colors swallowed laughter less than great men have gone minds of beauty…
insight…painful love gone every one of us…and we mistake ourselves as waves of
absolute fear…watched a dozen acre of reason for which dawn could not remorse…
woven infrastructure of body…mounting indiscriminately…lit beats nightly and all at
once of thumbnails…spiders and rocking chairs…fictional erogenous…

you…if you’ve held the back of your the brain where my milk satisfied…another wall
left it…will not rhyme with the sound described…the gentle clicking of mechanical
despair…a makeshift purr…

23
“His focus on wooden boards of the ceiling...palm wiping gently down the bridge of his
nose,
his parted lips,
bedroom window where curtains were drawn,
red and yellow light through white lace, delicate motion,
ghosts of stretched fabric slid to the floor,
cheek nuzzled on hers...nails red with dust tearing fabric and lace in yellow bedroom
lights across unlit alleys and threaded clotheslines…"

the woman next door she held the dawn of every morning spring voices from the porch
whisper instead of saying leave a car starts up and drives away and dream state restraints
unfastened phone call it is done…photograph progress report pull the legs off a spider…
chew through…

the sky is still hers…hands like a nurse in the needle like a hook they use for trout
rations,
one in the first joint,
on in the sinews of Christmas gifts…many examined in the skin,
fascinating sensation,
driving in my hands brought down blurred vision chair bursts apart…

moon was delicately misshapen and the throat is not going to be the night and road signs
across…white and the century,
mark three quarters,
it would not last long…introspection,
a form of self-inflicted vague instructions let the spirit self immolate nights spent blinds
down concepts of the false pretense of comforts away and pictured in his mind right
angles of rose bush baby pins…

I want to do things to you that will turn out the lights once the rosary stood in the wind,
the rain,
itself awake,
startled and misplaced binding medals and awards,
class life,
the bomb,
it falls on all…field…written lines in sand,
sound fruition within the static hemisphere lesson…dusk was rotten apple seed…
desolated crimson pulse thump of a half dozen educated and replete manners…

24
“Silk lined worm of a feeling crept up and sideways through the pink wet spiral of
esophagus,
breath raised peach fuzz on the back of the neck...soft spoken wet confetti in a snow
storm,
thickets and sparks in her thoughts like gibberish draining down exhaust pipes…”

wife hung above to bed,

borrowed skin from the roll in the kitchen…using and let it flow out the window,
today…aged and security new address…no one wrote letters that sat in two pieces in a
shoe box bought from a market in Juarez of white shirts and black pants that studded and
warped with age…hats and cane filled with broken crayons for children…he stopped
smoking his cigars…

“Threatening whisper of siren beyond palms and dunes…”

cursing scalp hands in the mirror otherwise pressing hand towel cellar…

no no there the back room with the stars,

is this not,
oh but how the stars fear and fathom we wept through the darkness of enemy light,
liar land and dollars left over bliss through hills…loss is the mother’s and oh mourn the
hero,
the waiting,
the veins and legs in sand…father pretend aquatic and bored…the dimly lit…the left…
another couple steps outside…

but had to find somewhere and everywhere there’s a bridge where raped candles lit
around the mattress until can’t reach the belly as if the connection to an open window
outdoors spring winds and neighbor’s houses together…

her voice and crying out you just can’t,

the breath of a moment wiped from arms…gurney and curtains washed,
hands sewing gouged lace…others thought of wrapping…forefingers grazing thick thread
the second time…began with fragments spinning midair…

undress set jacket shirt wipe dust on half with lamp torn that ignores flowing warm…
picked up and feeling home and we circle each immobile fires were gone but weren’t
gone long room…shaking between his knees or for sure bridge of his nose,
don’t think captain wrinkles envelope there…find the window isn’t it…beige envelope…

25
“Deciding where I am a prison for you…”

blanket on these white wash walls in if again my temper is uniform,

condensed,
brain is washed,
distempered,
the dry inspired…doesn’t seem real…is really out the bag…

wasps sleeping their mandibles to erections by the time a ranking officer…their spines,
questions followed bacteria supplements of indeterminate sky unlearned in essence and
soul response…rest against one’s self…thick bloodstreams,
cobweb still life,
repent the locusts and mud pies…coins for passage better for her than hands on throat…

“There was wind within them bones...swore the embers of a classical interest in things
unwinding within herself…”

executed thunderous applause remain bound subtitles refuted dimwitted delicate

deformation thrusts and daughters refraining joyous all weeps pressed palm against
concrete spider webs…no all is lost no not now not yet more so loves oh yes joy like
nothing and oh what life this now last as long as armies and sand swept rooms…

stands in prayer…tender were your martyrs…press airplane shuttle marching tins in

celebrated decades…skin surface brightly quakes…it is mine to need those things back…
stripped down money on the brain the soul alone in fish alive and well residence…answer
the find a way from here among those random climb the trees and get confused…stuck
manic ache in the back of every spine behind your romance…

that needle moment eyes on thumb torn down to muscle,

the little puddles in dusty porch,
in soil stumble crying out…hand towel in soil know my voice…

deftly into embers of a leftover murder of memories awake,

such grace and isolates one and surrounded we build…snot self and shame this little life
above his head and ours…incomplete risk and fumble along land and timber…bacon
sausage biscuits…spread eagle slept…

truth is all you ever mention in those are all yours for the taking…

26
things when they were thought as something else…remember why…knew like they
always will…

monkey on the sidewalk eating a centipede on a long search for things to wear as what he
is…search of his missing songbird he finds and returns to where the wings were
discarded blossoming no hate in this world like a poor man’s hate…

“A particular disdain for church bells,

or rather,
she held a particular fondness for any bell not used in church...any bell not used at all,
for that matter,
feeling rather that potential be restrained until necessity of identification…”

come first divorce from she didn’t know it was a song will bind her with branches red
gallows and she’ll rape every songbird breath is an ash embankment passages to storms
over…

celebration cheap allegories my arms you package up and send nothing but a worry some
way inside but why phone just like that honey and stray cats roaming roughing episodes
spirited in reverse our little pink sleeve wear stirrups oh yes the harpsichord or funeral
barbecue a long way…

along bumps fall winter’s first eye hypnosis the grand priest cradling particularly
threatening low and close to the participant shown throughout the week between now…
state lines separated from the courage as your very own and cursing itself back to a thin
vagrant breeze you often fondly much of the time since logical manners,
examples of which are downward and pointless to life somehow…

of it waiting to break…hold it without great force will not paint stumbles canvas falls
careful to field the old game that trees slope across and set the painting distilled no shame
in being youthful rebellion the damnation of some and other such matters when learn to
this life and the answer is…

heels and stressed to noninvasive flesh through sky and rain songs and flashing strobes in
mocked lie still with faint music in the rupture enraptured stillborn imprinted revoked a
son for her fingertips on my cheeks trailing embraced calloused forms palms skyward
inspected and empties sockets of the last…

elegant romance bastards always foreign weather deterred loads ridiculed rabid escapees
repressed unrecognizable whatever is casting that shadow been resident housing scrub

27
my scattered her coming up through the balanced in his hand dripping the door terminal
tub a moment watched comes out of the find his strength voice half asleep into battle with
the convulsing foreigners where are the flowers…

A man walked into a Doctor’s office and said,

"I would like to be placed back into my mother's womb, please, where it is safe and warm
away from this cold muddy world."
and the doctor said, "I'm sorry, but it is impossible to perform such a procedure."
The man asked, "Is it because such a procedure has not been devised to place a full
grown man back into the womb from which he came out into this cruel ugly world?"
"It is because your mother died just this morning,"
the Doctor replied,
"Didn't anybody tell you?”

there was a taste of rust and this isn’t it…two figures undressed lights shown from shots
fired spun exploratory dissection amiss mount the bed covers the final body sat to far left
right angles like he had attained full clicked their heels…

tell grandpa I said hello and that you chance to share with the cosmos dirt as the eternities
have harmed chaos yesterday…is it least…it is at the bull rectified malcontent adjust
nothing devious catch one in the back of the head…

from light fixtures fill timeline ends only homeless or has it ever been this is it…simply
this gone days and…

“I couldn’t know if I could hurt you long symptoms stalk again syringe and eyes can see
when the light shut off shot circumstance a bulbous thing mark the demons of a cold
sweat all behind in a bucket for the rain of your heart these monasteries show insect
hearts as a catatonic embrace and we shared laughter…nice suit jerk…I guess the douche
is really out of the bag…”

Restroom wounds rinsed and color like gun metal blue…your second each stitch separate
from the work…no one said much home forgive me…confessions and splinters cubist…

Humiliations shutting their doors,

slain strapped in cellophane marked as not invited,
marked as returns…assigned to breathe horseshoes…factories red who is the Madame in
cans so full of questions leaking water into the right and walks out of…pushes the needle
marks in his whisper rot warm and stinking slight and watched the grass flowers trail of
syrup on this…

28
horse retired and ridiculed hands out centipede penetrated in spit sewers clinched…
accounted for fractures repulsive warmed by sunlight barred windows…less yes and
diminished numbers but nothing else in worried yet damn this has become loved and held
at once born fibers were under and around where how you’ve aged…here’s to…

driveway circuits and wires…handle locked her form…moment where something just
home my fist through glass in crying out fingers…

it aloud…cast ye brother to mourn…to squeeze out puss or poison crawl the wound…lift
crawl the lower back…it’s woven in leaves…it’s our chest…this one way ticket don’t…

chaos today is it far greater than error so called and laughing sanctuary him so here is an
opportunity to…

“There is a line between restrained and retrained…”

breath and fist delicacy for shame sun scours glass fractures like acid blot not numberless
alone and world none the less but not for it matters not how long this will lack of fear…
within within…cowards of it nothing like a weeping help here hello muted…

her eyes so much in her eyes before troubled skin in the mirror and runs down those
trembling driving through snow her hands against laceration in my scalp emergency room
waiting breathing…breathing…

sat beside me hands gentle hook they use for catching orchestra as she watched him to
examine the area he did they called it died from a sight…

known and bound upon the awe and wonder ever the nature of the small purpose or
inspiration unknown after a time of ridiculous struggle…subconscious sort of way…have
to sorely new addiction all together and oh fail…fear and laughter yes thrills trial air…
wake bell prominently enough in the smooth another sort seemed an entirely rational
from the century and watched as a door cooled back down to a temporary…

a case of right yourself every damn way but we got in what was left of the chum by
light…never mind the odds or potential ownership as always our own…this is an age,
a word of instinct,
evolution inevitable…

on where oils cascade the walls,

29
drying in loved with…you’ll notice no one looks chime the nightstand…her paper
volume,
the contours,
broke a parchment seal…cry highway through gauze wrapped around,
sat in church…double razor bends between palm…everything a damn job…or maybe
pretty lace blouse…lipstick on mirrors,
run scurries up a tree…partial bird pecked content that no one is watching,
disappear safe…the stays is there all winter with…

ladder up to the attic at sea as far as himself,

the nature of corrosive,
string dead rooted in the nerves,
veins out,
thinking man’s thread…what exactly you meant when your weird orange fucker went
crying hatchways mental mill ovaries here of this lane clerks at counters,
wide-eyed variations vessel…apologies and blood work,
fire in her ways…oh but love…love…

“There were valleys in there once where we were supposed to be found gradual,
prostate beneath…”

wouldn’t ever come…had it all laid out…chickens ate the eggs of which came to have
weather and we leaned into it one more and finally finds her…guide her spiders…

aren’t enough stones connecting two surfaces isn’t safe and spent dog lying next to his
eyes begging tummy he whistles and moans and rolls and falls to floor panting…give
him connection between silence and treats,
silence and anything else…in the city lets the sound become invasive inside as well…
children sing outside the bark…children flee and run around fences…

I know my voice and it’s echoes cursing curious tickle down the throat…hand to fingers
in the wheel steady breathing my hands…crying in my hands,
the fabric of coat…nothing…antibacterial is applied…

this cruel world no didn’t anybody tell you seconds in the morning he didn’t drive his
rope hung from the rafters flag from wall to front door he ate would freeze in pipes his
hands pure of his mother in a frame above…

often wondered yes given out loud could be considered option and possibility not the true
red at curse you were indeed afraid…possessed of this as such friend and foe in this way,

30
the very personification of keep hard like that again on father’s prostate reason,
and her lover on the way gets hit by consoling her…how perfect things wound…

backed into soft of rose appeared in the doorway…the soldier sideshow displays original
inorganic supply terminate origin and design…the sun dropped precipitation…the
blinding through sun diminished fall and wept depleted velvet shag carpeting…track
lighting and fracture…yearn and puncture,
caress,
wept and toiled,
mortar made misspent the gentle touch,
flickering whisper of coward for her dressings moth eaten…

someone shifting the handle…animal blood in the back of London emerged from the
rubble of shops and darkness in the direction and ducked the shots continued,
found early,
lidless unshaven irrelevant selves of isolated reeling dousing flame of another
impenetrable fort,
the last interlaying officers at attention in the door…

"My world is going to be misunderstood for a minute…”

it all…everything all of it…out torn and bruised the red carpet piano wire spankings
absorbed in regularity…unhand this mended fist through her window…almost my trail
ends stubborn turned around,
prelude to a whole…

stepped out of the dim from his jeans pocket took a cigarette shut his eyes and meditated
on borrowing stranger’s sun experience losing one’s bearings between angle and break in
the briars…would streets of persuasion virile opaque…ice in your shade…

or not…together we were a multitude opaque thimble,

thrice,
mercy…animatronic false sense and teeth…cherry burst and blueberry wall surprise and
raspberries ravishing envelope incompletion…

and blouse scattered,

unwavering orchestra and magic timeframes through elephant brigade reminders…
landscapes and laundered returns,
scarab dress unrecognizable wanted peace and got us instead…you recover assigned by
rough fence posts and you’ll meet for the likes of you,

31
so full like whistling softly as he through discoloration of the vein…youth fashion spears,
groans stained,
born in men and spared…

understand disease we drink to it afraid of the must be someone out there please wiping
of cobwebs remember coming back swarm and squirt will return…the sands where she
dug her hands padded wall calms distempers piss out blister and scoff sentiments very
own tin flash of panic my moment the shrug and sigh to herself the dead ends of things…

if gal dust off that tired old look out of country,

donkey in the hole but you know that…

“Not always a simple task to trust those who never think of themselves without a
question mark at the end of it at least once in a while…"

old wood steps and the dust cannot things change,

can know for sure when you can be and want things to make it but something is
different…for yourself perhaps…and picking up flashing scars,
so proud of the extraordinarily mysterious this asshole watch me no don’t watch don’t
want anymore…struck mine with a thrown wood forms aching…

man over couple nights a week from the almost slumber of bed sobering secretly in the
wind to say stay without really saying the woman is alone again until the next sedation
down the hall…search the ward…assigned a room…interviews with doctors prolonged
build up to a strangulation padding on the walls…land in the slam head to bricks…

one’s limitations and the reality of this body if this body really feeling sorry for itself…
delicate figures of chrome would you please just shut you’ve never been heard I don’t
hold you for two…

into the womb from which he came into our mother died just this morning window for
fifteen minutes and thirty could still cook the hell out of a howl that didn’t start with dear
sir or Madame chin clean shaven washed hung his meals delivered work on cold nights
the water won’t good at repairs anymore held a picture of her…

the shed that day within us three,

bright most in this place,
silk fibers floating so through sickened iridescent webs,
black owed out,
tender and mindful to collect our thoughts,

32
ourselves,
all withstanding…certainly myself…not a day of every one thousand things of which
held our half dozen once wept volumes of exhibition self machine makes hazard noble
left turn around rascal timber…

his hand…keeps it on his person on a walk the tumble glass from birth gets lit bar into
sunlight and out and lift it…he stood there…

each time someone new and at the open window in much of anything night for a
weapon…kill a man case study family routines new room mate bushes roof top pigeons
the walls and blood on the mirrors…

before…floats along slowly outside the grand scheme of the thing…genitals revealed and
hanging thread hygiene and manners from the 1950’s enjoyment…mother praise you for
founding remaining glimpse of which was here about unannounced on degeneration of
gratitude and worth crawling inferior circling…

“Know what they used to call a suicide...a death by suicide I mean...a broken heart they
called it...died of a broken heart...feet dangling in the barn wood...mud in the tread
eye...level to my height…"

the color of medium rare screaming at my tail and circling down the snails counting on
guidance from the rain…pregnant woman in the wreck,
baby at all times throughout his life until streets smashing windshields of parked arrested
fairly often…gets sent to…

devised to place a full grown man the doctor replied it is because the old man stood at the
old to go jogging anymore but he never wrote letters his face hung in folds down to his
blue above his television set that you couldn’t handle a wrench…

light responds flickering in its smearing the carcass of his go and gather their flocking’s
when we turn away you’ve never been heard well I don’t fight for you…held it far and
breathing you rival…you…

together,
as he dies he watches a crow want to be a snail…eventually comes to peace with the
devil arrives in Texas,
discards his wings on the ground and it never sings again…a tree grows scarcity breeds
animosity…there is now…

33
like this I asked no. 4 sickness yes the painters around here behind dialogues silent his
own today slope of his back hands thrust smear in desire and wood sound and bushes
across cavities thick with down…a civilian sensibility…murder and breaking even…

a manifest destination…thin voice in evaporated premonitions,

staled latitudes…planned erectile dysfunctions,
leprosy surprise,
upbringing excluded as advisory complete…

antique formations…translucent as aphrodisiac…head strong assault…intended…

uninterrupted…

“After an intimately sweet fuck...bundles her sheets,

sleeps soundly,
contented smile...fades when dreams rouse her inner joy,
whole world of the rest of it left in that dirty blonde acre with barely the knowledge of an
intimately sweet fuck less than a breath ago…"

off one wanders blindly closing the door…the cold at my father’s house and dressed…it
is hard to make and amazing up my age feathers strewn about the bed on short terminal
curl his legs hugged over the man and yawn…she shrugs,
think so kind to be sure…male and sores…fingers graze around…follow where my best
tucked name written on the interjections…

painted centuries turned other fisherman long cherry when you poison continual,
gets to the breath,
fade out,
fear is not…you say things like fundamental boundaries,
sideways phenomenon…sharpened edge to landscape with throats and floats alike and
notion of smiles,
wayward looks,
enamored she stands like seaweed…born of other ways…listen my friend he is
different…

really not ruin her completely and withered by wailing rains…stood with oxen and
nestled of the barn,
this stupor is time,
refrain when we are gone…we’ve made so been hurt but it’s easy to trust you if I only
want to hear you and hold that to tell the difference between bleeding to me…just bring
those hips to me…

34
to bark coarse rigid scabs…him in the eyes are a weight of slouching down between my
palms and something between thumb and forefinger…maybe the throat…a real mess of
running the bath…on the toilet pecked pecan shell between ears with the nut into a
hole…her secret and you won’t tell…

my father’s prostate reason,

mother’s ashen roads and caravans…fear boundaries…superfluous are through the mail
and I am going what I am,
once stripped way down scattered…fattened weeds sucker now breathe and we will each
other up…determined to climb remorse and formidable…

oh yes not what you might think different than I might think you think yes oak wood no
driftwood wet match endorphins or neither our business how others play in the live and
claim judgment own word worthy of dictation definition…

bracing the shift in the air when it just gets bad things to say and the bag swung impact in
from the scene…my force pushed spinning hand on the window in the door…that needle
point of a name…my fist through glass in window frame spins…her arms spread out and
downward…

“Delays...routes...reroutes...minutes to kill at a bus station...young man with violin plays

experienced muted notes from a songbook laid between his
knees...baggage...purses...cowboy hats...language like a handshake...a quarter buys you
fifteen minutes of chained down television...adjustable screen volume control...lobby
floor of bathroom tile...long hair and beards...shake your head at nothing...carve initials in
your neighbor's arm...get married…leave…return…dream…weather grows bitter like
love...toothaches...wool coats...flask in jacket pocket sneaking sips in restroom
stalls...breath mints...self afflicted hair cut...love won't seem to mind...this is the
anticipation...waiting for an outcome...a beginning to an end…tomorrow..."

sail until cushioned in wet falls out into the ribs…she is taken inside of her legs spread
dim when something across the doctor says pushing you know what this was about…the
ward I believe it’s the desk by stream as I recalled straighten…

glass wares yes black lines faded…will yet no nothing…last American deserts of loss and
oh passed our guttural dumpsters and vultures and museum pieces…how we mourn,
loss in the mother of ill importance…prayed we’d fear bare figures…prepare bound
feathers…thunders of brain and fear want buildings to execute proceedings…

35
laughter…aged forms and sung commitment,
little was shared curious,
always felt that pain suffered fire…listen to itself…find fingering limber thunderous
laughter…hollow repeat with brick and mortar,
must and should…roadside attraction embarrassment of day after day become dot dot dot
for the youngest and cried…laugh at this and all that makes itself now and fresh within
it…each other giggling Christ and crunch…

“And I tend to sabotage my self sometimes...yes...like right now...knock at the

door...lights out...laid on a car horn in the distance...close your eyes...right now...hear
your heartbeat in bath water...head beneath the surface...you could crawl into my bed at
night...wearing the feathers...and I wouldn't be there...I'd be in your bed doing the
same...and neither of us would ever go home again…"

my God there let this simply be a task of pray yes I feel it now…more time but I know
now that its waves were rendered obsolete…meat wires in the wagon…a hand’s sand
storm staring at ten stitches…my very own window…laughing at she’ll remember it with
an apology but my blood still stains her…

gurney with a portable screen for privacy needle with its curves and size looks
periodically she later recalls thoughts of it all in I’m later told by those curious scarred…

for everyone who qualifies the news tells us because nights alone lying in bed with
something new to happen or around and around on the bed…a treat when we don’t
bark…no one around here have to learn to live with noise and everything that windows
open to the warm backyards connecting…

“This is not a test...the sirens...flashing lights...didn't want to ever feel this alone again...a
little bit of luck...choices...emptied whiskey bottles...lament to minutes ago...cards
scattered on wet table...shot glasses knocked over...wish I could have been better for
you...won't always be that good again…"

breathing in then out smoke…red clay hues of the soil blend…seen the shapeless sky and
ground…mount and break the lessons…sirens and stink from outside for the show…you
showed them from love to even worse…

the gutted pig carcass it and clips off his wings his bird is so sad missing its wings
beautiful flowers are you being serious right now but my martyrs were reject…

36
“Scars the color of vaginal pearls...ribbons running through bleach blonde hair...bit
lips...married in ways no church could understand...and what of the money she would
ask...just shrug with a grin...I was a stupid bastard…"

with sand in his eyes and blood in west Texas horizon…pulled a pack near the doorway a
moment filled his lungs…unfamiliar horizon through sky…a dismal haunting countless
others she said would hunt through these communal restrooms to take in his knuckles and
wrist turns over wrapped in a name…

“Down...down terminal...you'll wish you were asleep...turning blonde water black...smell

of honey...smoke...moisturizer...said we were sorry...we were just in love...with
something...and maybe it's not supposed to be any easier than this...sure as shit shouldn't
be harder...oh but stop complaining boy...you're only going to piss off faith…"

television programs…broken legs all wandering skyline blowjobs…daycare isolation…

isolation…meeting proposal hidden agendas reunion warmth awake not awake…dream
state…loaned a book on Chinese wisdom and my yellow teeth,
nails a streak thin limbs celebrating his question…

“Through locks...trapped in keys...you were there...wearing goldfish sewn

together...peeping through windows...shattered glass...tear out your eyes...lick them
dry...dive into glass surface...make a wish...oh just make a wish...shouldn't have been that
kind...wouldn't even know who you're talking to half the time when you're talking to
yourself...is it you...are you there...is it you…"

from the years before a fountain pen he will write his name…just stands and stares at a
bookstore downtown anymore…the old man stayed in aching way…old grandfather
waiting to be fixed…old Mexico decades before missing two stunk like mothballs…
pocket and letter openers to use…who never visited…

“A madness somewhere...laughing for thinking it's only the beginning...pain makes you
want her, boy...know what you're doing...the only thing static...give me some of your
feathers...tear...weeping a kiss...warmth in those red cheeks...when to let go...a second…
embraced..."

baby sedation padded walls one year two years calm focused thorn and petals awake……
picnic in the rain…two falls a fence…rubber bullets…raven eyes and thimble tails cycle
blood delicately chipped stranger’s blossoming pear tree bus asked is it always…

37
“Loaned a book on ancient wisdom...held the fucker upside down...loaded two walls...a
fence...rubber bullets and my yellow teeth...nails...a streak...counting off the colors of a
nightmare...there is a fixation...obsessive gyration of the hips...a slow Spanish guitar
playing…playing…spoon into a ring...wait for the shacks to never fall apart...flooded in
rain...muddy like the feeling of being alone in a room full of strangers...children voices in
the air...the water...the soil...love...wear the feathers…"

wash that world away…ten stitches for sure what it’s like for you being this like everyone
does you are missing blown out fuses,
something else momentum as years get fucked away and first set of ten oh how
interesting the womb hole must be and I can fool myself for another inch don’t look at
me not for another thirty wooden form branch of crowded isolation or closed wrist in fist
and struck…

Live long or hard enough you lose a decade here or there,

find yourself contorted to exaggeration of expression,
laughter second guessed itself and you have too much face to save…

A mistake:

Man at the bus stop asked,

"Is it always like this?”

You answered his question.

Should have left it to the wind.

38