On TV, there are friends
going to parties with columns
of evergreen maple giving trees.
There are French acrobats drinking
out of Restoration cornucopias.
(That last one is like us,
a motif of pantheons and bike gangs.)
The friends dance, retire, resume,
eat cheesecake, and sleep alone.
They are self-made of images,
well coordinated to fill cheesy metaphors.
At these parties, there are
gifts of all kinds. She said the biggest
was from me of course since
words take up most space when
given to things with meaning.
Take this shortie, then, and maybe I'll
talk with the clarity of experience, or
like once upon a time, a link
between us gives new definition.
We may yet have places to go,
and I'll cuddle up to sleep in your
arms of unknown destinations.
You and me are like the stuff
filling Turkeys today, warm
and hopefully seasoned with dill.
You know some things consume
themselves when left to loving.
I used to think like this,
when thinking was all youth
had allowed me to do.
But who cares?
I love you anyway.
Continue Reading...
26 November 2009
22 November 2009
17 November 2009
16 November 2009
Poem (To Keep You Down)
I probably had a dream last night
that you were in, and I’m sure
it would have descended quickly
into expectations of genre, taste, etc.
You always told me to
aspire to the wordless body that
fills the night, but I don’t
get how selling a dream will
let me remember it better.
It came to this recently:
I look for reactionary meaning
or a mirror of tropes that
make up images in something
like a rumor. I haven’t heard
much in the way of you lately,
but I have felt an absence
like your softest silk symbols.
Talk to me in your dreams
again. I’ve unsatisfied so
many prophesies in the day
that they’ve begun to see
me no more than mystical
or ascetic in this nighttime
pragmatism. I never slept
with you, and now I
sleep without progress.
A dream is like a bed
we only nap in,
at least, so this vision says,
“You’ll know when.” Continue Reading...
that you were in, and I’m sure
it would have descended quickly
into expectations of genre, taste, etc.
You always told me to
aspire to the wordless body that
fills the night, but I don’t
get how selling a dream will
let me remember it better.
It came to this recently:
I look for reactionary meaning
or a mirror of tropes that
make up images in something
like a rumor. I haven’t heard
much in the way of you lately,
but I have felt an absence
like your softest silk symbols.
Talk to me in your dreams
again. I’ve unsatisfied so
many prophesies in the day
that they’ve begun to see
me no more than mystical
or ascetic in this nighttime
pragmatism. I never slept
with you, and now I
sleep without progress.
A dream is like a bed
we only nap in,
at least, so this vision says,
“You’ll know when.” Continue Reading...
12 November 2009
11 November 2009
For Something I Think is Finished
He’s going to be reading this over there
very shortly over there before
I hope. You won’t anticipate
the feelings behind these lines
because I’m always unsure now
that I’m just as big a liar
as my friends and fingers lead me
to believe. I’d like to keep
writing for you if that might
make you less faceless
like me when I confessed and
in confessing was no longer me.
I am merely what I
hold inside, and you,
you are merely what you
read about me and love.
Let’s read that journal together again,
pretending outward our lives are what
we need but don’t want:
separation in time and taste
but unity in our rerestraint.
That’s saying a lot, for
you and me, and me.
11-11-09 Continue Reading...
very shortly over there before
I hope. You won’t anticipate
the feelings behind these lines
because I’m always unsure now
that I’m just as big a liar
as my friends and fingers lead me
to believe. I’d like to keep
writing for you if that might
make you less faceless
like me when I confessed and
in confessing was no longer me.
I am merely what I
hold inside, and you,
you are merely what you
read about me and love.
Let’s read that journal together again,
pretending outward our lives are what
we need but don’t want:
separation in time and taste
but unity in our rerestraint.
That’s saying a lot, for
you and me, and me.
11-11-09 Continue Reading...
08 November 2009
05 November 2009
04 November 2009
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