For Between

Not only is, we are

small.

Our arms move under the
footnails of the sky,
and in night the sky
moves past. (we go
out there only small).
So proud we touched the moon.
You cannot lay a star
under your eyelash.

But grow into tomorrow while
you sleep, and wake there. This is
the only is.

I love you and hold my hand.
When I don't touch you, I hear your
sound as I stutter through
Indiana. The towns pronounce
their names in your voice. Then
I sleep away under roofs under endless.

I will come together to you after
I've been through this place.
My pieces drift together and move
towards you.
I do not want unknowable.
I want beneath and beside you.

among the dying

old testament

this was no way to live,
or die

chained at the turn
of the century

and yet always --
as with then

(and before)

rising to greet
your family,
eager for touch


and the new

others would come
and go

(the focus of nearly
all affection)

while you sat outside
in the dust, and dirt,

howling and jumping
whenever i'd approach

and so it went for nearly
two decades

until i found you dying

chained up, as always,

barely turning your
head as i reached
down to touch you

and swat away the
flies

Fill

Leap leap.

Leap leap.


Leap leap.

Leap makes a
motion. It

moves away.

Into leap leap.

Leap doesn't know
land. Land's what
leap leaves.

In between: air.
Where leap doesn't
live: air.

Leap goes up land comes down.
In between: air.

Nobody knows air.

(but it might be better than that last patch of land).

Leap leap.

Age in Time

The whither face makes faces at
age. The corrupt tongue uncurls past
the dry lips and beats the air.
The sound is terrible. Eyes giggle
in their dark holes. The nostrils smooth out
as they flair up. Creaking earlobes tilt back
and forth. The dry hair knows nothing; it
is already dead. All together you are age.

Young looks out, making the same faces
from the playground with the same
innocent spite.

Throw Poems

Throw poems away. The
words get in your head and become
big ribbons unrolling
from the ribbon-wheel.
Carry armfuls of them to lunch.
In evening stumble over
them

going up the stairs with clean laundry.

Wrapped up in them turning from
right side to left side all night.
Who has time for all these children?
Breathe deep when your lungs are empty.

Throw poems away. They are
aging fruit. They are oranges from Christmas.
They are dried fruit you cannot eat dried.

The wind is under your young fingers. Hear the
stream in your ear. The woman
with a scarf brings plates of
almonds for breakfast.
Enjoy the life parts.

Everything will go away
to away where poems are.

something real

every time i try
to write something


something real


i feel unbearably
tired

like i could sleep
then and there

(for hours)

passed out at my
keyboard,

fingers lazy
and heavy


clogged with words


unable to form the
tiniest utterance or

quietest scream

Fading

I had another birthday, about a week ago
I woke up from a sweet dream,
unlike the nightmares I normally have.
In the lavender bathroom I saw my Bubbie
staring back at me from the mirror.
She was gentle and sweet, and I love her, but she was really old
like i looked that morning,
or she did
It's strange and disconcerting to see the progression of time etched upon your face
the face
that holds the innocence and confusion of a person
still
trying to figure out what she is supposed to be doing here
in this place
of beauty and horror
of gravity and time
it's not about what do I want to be when I grow up,
because it can't be
i will never grow up
and i am already old
I know
because I see her whithered face staring back at me in the mirror

full tilt

i feel like linus
without his blanket

a new door opens
but questions persist

i woke up last night
fearful scared & grasping for breath

i rolled & tossed
my brain going a mile a minute

a metaphysical cliff
a deep ravine

am i brave enough
to leap

DWC

Social Lament

The older I get,
the more broken I feel.

Social situations,
have become uneasy.

Each interaction,
challenges my new poverty.

I wonder why,
have I begun to slide away.