For our first date,I’d like to write you poetry. I’d like to wax diction about the shape of your breath,to list endlessly the particulars of your molars,but I’d bet those’re better saved. No, I’d like to write first, some poetry. I’ll chat endless about active syntax,or walk you through the forest’s longest path;just to see …
Post Type Archives: Poems
Untitled #567 (2014)
His hands feel amazing.I don’t think there’s a place they haven’t touched.I could love like this. Didn’t grow up with polos, more than one suit, hundred dollar shirts, pants with holes in …
Untitled #566 (2014)
A poet with no poems is still a poet, but they are an unread, unheard, poet, which to a poet is worse than not existing at all. At its most simple, poetry is the act of someone trying to tell someone else something. Its most apt metaphor is someone trying to communicate with you in …
Untitled #565 (2014)
“It ain’t moonlight kid.”Tom drug me through the muck ‘n mire of the Mississippi. Water soured as we wandered into the Arkansas Delta; old bones ‘n guilt clutchin’.As it occured to me that I was drowning, flashes of history began to ooze up from the river-rocks. A first …
Untitled #561 (2014)
The goslings have got their flight feathers in.You can see them in those not yet flights sometimes.Soon the scene’s gonna change,you’ve got Dogs Eyes licking through those lyrics in that guitar bawl, minor tone reverb, big blustery Wye Oak sound.Taking those first few flaps,we gonna soar, or we gonna be sore?That one-two-ohnoican’tdoit heave. …
Untitled #560 (2014)
Look, it’s just that I’ve got these scarred and weathered hands,and you’ve got all these habits I can’t stand.
Untitled #56 (2015)
you are a beautiful women in a hazy bar,cigarette smoke and spirit fumes lazily circle your every movement. You’ve got this whole room eating their own fingers. ‘n I ain’t different. Been writing you indifferent lyrics, ‘n you’ve just laughed that earth shaking low register chuckle of yours, more jetengine than Audry Hepburn, more hurricane than …
Untitled #559 (2014)
I’m tired.And it’s still such a long way to go. such a l o n g l o n g w a …
Untitled #558 (2014)
I looked out and the stars were beautiful.All fizzled-pop and lightning shot,blazing in that lightspeed inky, inky black. I watch as the wormhole slowly pulls the ship to infinity, atom’s unable to cope, no matter the bonds. I can …
Untitled #557 (2014)
I am vast,atmosphere,escaping every moment.Forever remaking, renewing, expanding.I am vast.I am scenic vistas that people stare at in awed silence,I am incomprehensible tracts of land,I am the space between “I love you” and “I’m sorry.”In winters, I have swallowed families whole, forced to eat short-straw shanks cut from one another. We …
