birds are such mechanical jerks
their chewing gum guts
melt on your tongue

remember myself
licking the butter off a knife
like a commercial for inner peace

to be doggedly displeased
I am grateful to the hole in that tree
it is just the right size for me
to bark the day away

I am not a lesson for the universe
stop taking notes
I am not a sad, useful lesson

my blubber
digested small fry
Supersize me guy
holding up a side of fat
honeycombed gristle
glistening yellow

the cows on the 5
either their shit or their blood
or their misery smells like
my period

you “think” I am a bigger version of you
you are right
your green eyes
effulgent chlorophyll
burn my mind into a clearing

g558

group 558
a volume of supplies
                    nearly equal
a volume of
                    total volume
a reluctant convert
the sea in the fifth month of 1959
did its work well

you and spinach
belong together in a sentence
you’re a health nut
in a low key kind of way
and have something in common
with absorbent leaves
softly rumpled in a plastic bag

you are learning about freaked-out moms
and how to make babies without cock
without sperm?
to get pregnant by peppercorns
papery pink globes and hard seeds
gently cupped

in here Ida Cox cracks peppery
and the velocity of the Gold Line
smudges into insect frequencies

and I could be riding it out
beyond the suburban forsythia
to the tip of the pine needle
that almost-wounds you

so I’m practicing obedience
to this silver-skinned plastic hunk
for tapping chatter into

while youth and its zillions of possibilities
dribble out of me, urinous
and I get so helpless and horny and bored and disobedient
I have to fiddle with myself or the window
right in the middle of the poem

big orange fireball
knifing its heat all over me
as if I were its cake

until finally I’m cooled off
no more gabbing on and on
but still enough to let you
come to me

barefoot on
a strip of sand between
two oceans                 

on the loud speaker:
We have the side curtains, so if
the sun is in Your Eyes
check Libby's pocket
we could try to turn on the moon
and only                                        dusk
Heaven knows what                     night
if I will meet my doom or my maker
tonight as I pick up the weight of it
in order to lean my own weight
down into it




if I can
if i could
if i would
if i should                 shall
     -lows in the deep and
     how is my hole here



on the loud speaker:
They have the side curtains, so if
the light is in My Eyes
how                            check Libby's pocket
lonely                         They could try to turn off the sun
and only
Heaven knows what
if she will meet her doom or her maker
tonight as she pick up the weight of it
in order to lean her own weight
down into it