...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

...plight...

you can only

feel so much for them

before you start

to realize that you

are suffering just

the same as them

...white piles...

thank you for this white blessing

and this day of white reflection

as the white piles up

and the white pillars fall

all the way to the street

only to become grey

not the way it is supposed to

be not this white purity

that takes away this grey

pavement and dismay from us

so that we can blanket

today anew and start with

the snow, finish with calm

that it has brought

in the guise of a storm

...warning or watch...

never a surprise

even to the predictors

of depths and images

and snowdrifts

radars and crystal

ball rooms full

of white and grey and pink

clouds with latitudes

and longitudes for tattoos

salters and spreaders

to first instigate

then deaden the pain

that proceeds frostbite

and white out blind winds

...red night...

knowing that red

at the dance red at the light

red in Harlem dancing

to the cold fears that

are outside the buildings

and circling the streets

warm inside warm and red

on the side of the walk

and the tread of the boots

as the song sings its chorus

and you sway red to the beat

to the red light

and the red red night

...coin for candidate...

except for the language

what it is that we don't get

about this flawed communication

that is so infuriating?

I know this is theory

not faith or even morality

but you cannot give away

the password to the vault

or the key code to the file

to the one with the most

in the vault or least invested

in your time and word;

this is not a supremely made decision

this will be the birth

of the most false notion

of democracy, one

that is fully emblazoned

on the next pressing

of coin

...short and unsteady...

bicycle in the way

of repetition today

and all those gulls

that flocked to the sagging

spot by the water

cramped up in the cold

want my flight

not their own to take

them south or a place

where an organs can pump

blood faster than the cold

air next to the Hudson

will allow, shallow breathes

slower beats, wheeze

...page of the book...

Bookshelves are transparent.

I wish the books were.

They wouldn't weigh

so much. I wish that the pages

were as light collectively

as they are when they are lonely

when the reader takes one

into their hand, holds it there

wisp-in-the-wind light, no pounds

no hard cover to hide between,

revealing the weight

of the words. This should never be

with complete transparency.