Sunday, April 30, 2017

Thursday, April 27, 2017

Tuesday, April 25, 2017

Mind and Time


 Mineral      so close to mania     it's a slow   uphill slope    mounting someone's mama  and a mountain    of mammy  figurines       could be the lantern  fallen  incendiary   that lights the path to will      so clenched  as a golden million dollar baby      could be the way   we objectify our dreams together    always feminine    and some violent  entrance disguised  as sensual    some pretty kill 


      My friend flashes a diamond in psychoanalysis  while explaining how her father raped her relentless     the  clock   kicks the hour toward a paycheck   the lithium  is about to run out when a young kid in uganda volunteers  to pull it from the earth in exchange for his silence    This desire to tell a story   where the answer is the dance    is  all  I ever       swore I was kneeling in prayer with a half moon in my belly   wept neatly   a bundle of needles   in a  slow singular drum     

Monday, April 24, 2017

Monday, April 17, 2017

Friday, April 14, 2017

One night I had slept quite deeply / (unboxing) 1



The naked blond barbie  is everywhere    waldo  waldo / so territory     so Jay Versace  squinting in a barrel of expired ruffles    at the army surplus where they house Alameda County homeless and feed them expired food products   and bow    silently  on the way back to townhouses   at     the    way   it feels   taking to the fields   the way it feels to burn them    down      that thrilling and lifelong hunt   for an enemy   will paint  you    will send   you somewhere  funny     to fall to your knees  and mime rude   pageant gospel     or pattie labelle in a different world  or shop   for hospitable    dollhouses           The hose is on in a ghostlike  way     the raggedy   white hyundai is so clean   a meth head can take it  to a fix    with the naked blond barbie   strapped into  the front  seat    oh    baby       didn’t  I feed you   bleach     and seagrams        didn’t    I   pull the lint  from velcro         


  


                                                                    Ain’t that crow  circling stolen  from nabokav    give  it back baby,   return  that       lullaby  like   exactly      aestheticized    sickness    to where it burns  in you