...sweet sweat...

I am sweating

you are sweating

the quiche is especially dill

the brownie you eat

you are sweating sweet

that is fitting for you

take a sip

berry soda chill

and sweating sweet


the body is still

...blown gasket...

I cannot count

the things I have lost

today on my hands

toes may cover it


the recent Harvard grad

in the waiting room

had just a few leaks

a few thousand miles

past due is an easy mistake

for a recent Harvard grad


for me however

on top of it like a tick

the greasy little men

all gave me the green light


and yet the smoke rose

and rose and resignated

some more and the prognosis

grew grim and grimey


what do you do

when you have less

than the balance requires


what do you do

when you can't get

to the job you need

to get the money

you need to get

to the job


the spine stiffens

the neck locks from the base

of the skull to the lower shoulder

blade is transparent


of something that has clearly

been wrong for a while now

and that the gasket

had already blown

...two days later...

the sun is still

in it's perfection

like you now sitting

across the rays


becoming highlights

in your novel

or explicating passages

about a child from Sudan


and how our oil leaks

and front door repairs

are nothing meaningless

in light of all


that was once beautiful

that now is not


words are humbling

when they comfort

but burn in the sun

if left out too long


we have a front door

we have oil in our car

we have each blackberry in the yard

we have each other


we are ok for now

we are ok for now

...summer solstice...

could it be

any more perfect

today

yes

but you are

at work

...stereo Television...

the park central astroturf

and the rain on the apples

lightning in the north

and the song to wish the sun out


over the city

the voices sound off

and this is theirs

the imperfection is beauty


with you to turn on

blanketed in yellow

opening up to skin glow

the angle of the guitar note


this was generous

the marquee was lit

during the day

for a few to see


and I was not

there inside myself

rather nostaglic

of the year of birth


and that comfort

of the womb

the closeness

of the belly


to the heart

to the breast

and to the ageless

song you sing

...over at last...

the complaint was this:

to describe where I live

my drive to work

all I had to do was tell

the person I was

talking to to watch

the show's intro

(ignoring the theme music)

see the Turnpike

see Pizzaland

see Satin Dollz

and now

in a tale's demise

Holstein's

I tell the guy

that's where I live

and it sucks

just as bad as that

stupid show did

...tending to the farm...

burning is the sky

tired is the muscle

dirty are the ankles

broke is the reality

soil in the savior

tired are the limbs

feeble is the attempt

lonely as the basis

corruption at the roots

broke is the situation

tired are the eyes

tender is the rootball

sweat in the soil

policy in the temptation

few in the many

leaves of the last

roots from the garden

sun in the spring

tired is the till

shovels are arms

warped wooden legs

(here in the garden

poets are merely

trellises for the vines)

...papers aflame in the park, midday...

Quisiera un poco de sol

Ok

well that's quite a bit much

but thank you

for the breeze as well

as the burn

the ten times ten

heat index

and the thinnest layer

of protection

we have isn't enough

epidermal warming

warning the masses

this pool of skin

is crackled and the lining

rubbed raw

no deseo que mucha sol

...stupid poetry game...

Tables aren’t for this heroine.


Trees build themselves up.


Dangerous Bees?


No more heroes for table tennis


in Bowling Green.


I don't want to be part


of your...





(for Colin)

...outside of the classroom...

the poor poor children

of Virginia

are crying

as nightmares

of coming to class

naked as the day

we came into the world

go out just the same

covered in blood

and the end of innocence

is nobody's salvation

but the damned

and the disturbed.


That man is inherently evil

and animal, territorio

clinging to the last of a kind

has been preached

that man must learn

to be saved through truth

beauty music and knowledge

despite the ease of the error

the laziness of the terrorist

and their affinity to a God


this gunfight is too easy

a poor man's fist

an uzi suicide

a penalty shot


and the kids

will never raise

their hands

again the way

they used to

and the end

of the system

we once knew

will be the end

of all that we

called the process

of education

now that it has

been taken

outside of the classroom

...new season...

welcome

to York

to Jersey

to Hampshire


welcome

to

New Winter

in America


(the kids now have

Winter Intersession

in April)



Welcome

to snowfall

on Easter.


Welcome

to Global

Climate Shifting

Gears of American

Cars


Welcome

to New Winter

in New Jersey


(Goodbye)

...shameless plug...

This is not a poem...but these are mine, sort of...check out my "erasures" at the Wave Poetry website. Try them yourselves. It's a shitload of fun! And, you can actually produce some great poems. My students are working on similar texts as well.

http://erasures.wavepoetry.com/poems.php


-mr

...in a shell...

tonight

and everynight

the turtle is not sure

whether he should come out

and explore for knowledge

or for food, merely for nourishment

of the mind, or body


(Do I apply for the job or for the degree?)

(Do I eat or do I write?)

(Do I sink or do I sink?)

(Do I shed or do I crust?(

(Hardshell or Paperback?)


tomorrow and

the next tomorrow

if the turtle isn't given

room to grow

he simply won't

and he becomes attached

to the feeder fish


(no longer my prey,

they finish my sentences

with symbiotic assonance)


in a shell

turtle or nut?

pencil or window?

fashion or fusion?

Can there be any

smaller being

than the one who can't

see that it's all a trap?


(in a shell in a shell in a shell

am I trapped in a shell?)

...#3...

meadow clever launch

pilots into definition

liquid still quarter

tubes riverdrum

stanzas swelter in

stride my stars

translucent scholars

corpses detonate

throwing dicey limestone

flicked grandstand flavor

meaty treaties fleeting

...a bus parked...

there is a bus

parked in my sinuses

and it shifts

forward and back

left and right

deviated septum

deviant disease

wanting to drill

a hole to let the passangers

out and liquidity

where's my neti pot?

where's my baby snot sucker?

where's the doctor in my network?

I don't live on the island

and the toxins

from the water

surrounding

couldn't burn through the bus

(even in the "Kill").

...shades of potato tycoons...

purple little chip

go away quick

cause I am hungry

and you are purple

and that means

you are organic

and you are organy

have a purple chip

in hopes that

the old yellow one

will wilt away

under Simplot's

uberflag megahill

green with chemy

goodness

thick like hair restoration

and just so astro-

turfy you big lug

nutty bastard

each a chip

and plant a tree

purple chip/green tea

oh forget this

Boise...

...stuck in the shovel...

the last time we talked

it snowed

but this time

the garage door

wouldn't open

and I had to go about it

with a shovel

Victorian Grounds

(the snow blower

stayed warm inside

the stuck door's

windshield)

worried about traction

they felt the slush

of the night's performance

dull but enough

to slow down

the cars and refuse

the drawbridge

the right

to close

because of the disabled

vehicle in

the right

lane

...what it's...

it's finale snow

it's hammer time

it's white chocolate love

it's glacial and spatial

it's going to be gone

it's situational sleet

it's chord-o-roy time

it's galaxies of snow globes

it's turtle tank clean-up

it's delayed school openings

it's libraries closing

it's mom's new foot

it's mom's new foot

it's a tennis court in Dubai

it's you typing up your poems

it's true there is no flu

it's snow and it's new

it's lunch at the Thai/Italian place

it's a big black furry boot

it's tea time

it's Davis Cup reruns

it's all day all Poker

it's getting hot in here

it's frothing a bit in the south

it's cotton-mouth memory cards

it's a 30 Rock episode

it's "happee vallemtimes"

...your sleeping smile...

I love you

good night

you smile like

you do when

you walk

in your sleep

toward the garden

in the castleyard

you sleep with that

smile while I watch

and so want

to make the magic

tale an actual

realm I lose hope

when you lose

your sleeping smile

to the disturbance

of waking

...disappointemnt in the garden...

the poodle

peed

deliberately

to break

the stride

of the

competition


the English

came in second

because

he picked

up the scent

stunting

his stumpy

gate


the French

akin to nothing

but the namesake

didn't make

it close

white

as ghost


but

the imperfect

poodle

pop-pom-ed

and piss-filled


baited

the breeds

and

broke

the leash

because

its butt

was bare


and cold

in the garden

during winter.