...paycheck...

pay the little poet please

he needs to feed his needs

she wears all of her wears

please pay these people

a little pay please

(it is starting to get cold out)

...after war...

these aren't questions of faith

these are questions of a record

of history and a map of a world

we haven't been able to chart

because of the divine hand

that continues to pull people's

pulses from each other

further from agreement

into the throws of war

after war after war

...first question...

can I have

a pen

and a piece

of paper

to write up

the guest list?

...alumni...

on that steep incline

the lawn it is called

I have the people

around me that I have

brought together

in the most beautiful

moments of their

sonorous lives

and those that you

four have conducted

in there nightly

dance rituals

...playground rule...

still by the water

she sits stares

wonders if the fabrics

will be for her dress

or her doll's

wonders why all the others

skip when they walk

when she can only

slowly stride and take time

with each line she has

to create or fabricate

out of those

moment's pure

sublime pause

...whatsisname...

if I ask them what school

you were from or

what movement you were

part of

they would not know what

to say

they failed the test

and failed it gloriously

...clocktower...

the clock facing the city

never fails to alert

those who work there

that they must come back

here to where the clock

stands and where the rent

and energy bill

is part of the the unending

plan to keep us at bay

...hostess...

in late spring

her black dress

takes its time strapped

tied in bow across the painted

mural between blades

of shoulders

showing the shadows

that the night

tries to hide

with its coy dark

absence of a light

barring the candle

which makes waves

of the air as visible

as the constant

shimmering eyes

...invite to a bbq...

we are invited to a bbq

in your back yard:

you ask us to bring a bbq

and a back yard:

Thank you for having us.

...constructive construction site..

when you bring the poem

to them and I mean by truck

by payload after payload

brimming in the bed

overflowing the hitch

taking each line

and lugging them

over the shoulder

over to the house

you are building

and show them how to

set the posts margins constraints

they will tell you

that they are grateful for this lesson

for bringing the poem

to them and reconstructing it

so that they too can go in

construct their own

drive their truck

...turn signal...

the threads of the blanket

tossed against the pillow

with her hair's fine silk

tracing it like maps

of highway service roads

is more than his heart

can take as she mumbles

something wonderfully silly

in her sleep, something

about his blinker being on

...missing dogs...

have you seen

my dog we haven't

seen him either

or her actually

we haven't had them

in so long

that my allergies

are returning

...one hundred and twenty six thousand...

this is my 126,000 miles

scar, spreading and spewed

across the southern sea

this is my 126,000 miles

of 'filler up...credit'

this is my 126,000 mile

road trip for seven years

this is my 126,000 mile

slick, up and down the coast

this is my 126,000 mile

stain, a strain on the shores

this is my 126,000

faults and flaws

this is my 126,000th

time I've put the mileage

back to zero

this is my 126,000th

fuck up too

this is my 126,000

this is my fault

...field...

field: there is not a vision

satiate: there is no free lunch

parody: there is no life real

sealed: the lunch is bagged

confrontation: there is no front

blasphemy: there is no belief

indulgence: there is no more left

acquiescent: there is no more refusal

field: there are no more visions

...tunes...

I tune with your tunes

and then swap spit

mac to cheese

cheese to mac

white to white

the log flumes

the shameless rides

and cornered DJs

watching the boots

the hot dog queen

the fiasco of the business-

man's hairpiece creeping

the unstoppable requesters

who fail to see

that we don't take requests

the Jewish girl

who feigns fervor

(tip your bartender

she's my kinda girl)

...bike o bike...

bike o bike

sun o sun

light o light

run run run

over the shore path

under the dirty bridge

behind the foundry

beside the edge

of the pot hole

porous pavement

save your tires

from bad behavior

...losing count...

there is nothing tragic

about a countess losing

count of her heirs

losing count of her wealth

losing out on this death

of a count

of an account

of a lifted pace or face

of course she is this disgrace

and the knife bring her stasis

cold cold normal stasis

level upon level upon level

of made up make up

countess lose count

of your break ups

fake cups

lips too

million upon million

into your counted oblivion

...ghost...

in abstentia

what can replace the body

or the sensual

taste touch tonic

the denile of essential

oils and fragrance

loyal to you and I

and afraid

of growing wilder

not older

in its absense

...grin...

a smile on her face

turning upwards

until it reaches skies

(that process)

...cold melt...

the snow left

behind is no match

for the sun that wants

to glare through

make the water

cold in the power

that it wields

even at this particular angle

and time of our day