Press hash and state your business somewhat loudly
while organic intermediates clear a path
what turns up’s somewhat lucid ceaseless
an expurgated text unfit for work
mourning’s hard to metabolise
the party’s themeless don’t even come
sweep the strings and hold for pastures new
acid mantle blue
In the doghouse my date barks back
Behind the door the facts
the jokes of one awaiting trial
Am I under-administration
or beginning to free associate?
Enter the poltergeist girls
with the hands of stenographers
Burning glances at smoko
moaning after lights out
Author v title in the sunken lounge
‘abortion’ in the index
whose life am I living?
the blister platform is empty and so am I
feast and famine
a bracelet of lost charms
the blonde gleam of moonlight like a slide projector
When it comes to period pieces keep it simple
genres get distressed
and then everybody’s anxious
-all previously published at Jacket Magazine
The past is awake and stirring
in a black shirred bikini
blinding in a pyschedelic shift
like the picture of a mansion
I’ll give you the benefit and take it back
like the yellow scarf I knitted and unknitted
the fleshy cactus roses
I grew the year I adored you
Beauty was never my friend.
Our birthdays were a year apart.
My roots were one foot in the amusement park
and another in a world of disappointment.
Chance meeting—cigarette lighter—blousy attrition.
See what I mean?
Sift and twist: twist and sift.
In a nutshell success has been non-stop
since the door to the nursery closed.
-both previously published at Snorkel