Whatever clot
Been doing this for a while now
At some point I realized
that I probably used
too much paper
and that it wasn’t worth it
to watch things overflow
one inch closer
to the top
I learned that if it looks
like things are amiss I
just have to thrust my hand
downward and dislodge
whatever clot
Elevator Robots
Nobody is quite sure where to get off
because nobody’s looking
Necks craned
I can’t see your eyes, you can’t see mine.
Packed in but impossibly alone. My eyes are deep black pores, dilated to the point of absorbing all possible light.
Pixel absorber I am. I’ll never get off this elevator.
On A Bench
On a bench one time I was so relaxed I fell asleep on a bench with my arms folded across my chest and my head flat on a piece of wood I’d never worry about anything ever again but that seems so long ago, now
Up Here
Fasten seat belt while seated
or else you might fall out.
I see snow below
or is it just the clouds
falling in
It’s not so scary when you’re right beside me
But it still is
Whistle this way
Whistle that
I can hear you
up here
Cube Living
Boxes on boxes on boxes
Heat rises
Paradoxes
I can see into your chest bones there
The pieces moving inside there
Scraping the floor of your
Flaxen diaphragm
up and down
the legs inside your chest
scraping
refusing to move.
I can see in there. The sweat dripping, reflecting reflections of the trees.
The difficult, I’ll do right now—
The impossible can take a little while.
—
In The Woods
In the woods
In the woods
In the woods
You dont have to be
In the woods
To be in the woods
Gather your kindling
Amass your animal instinct
Clear a dirt floor
Part the leaves blocking your path
And yell
As loud as you can
Tempest
The rain it
pours today this
morning I had
a dream this morning—
there were puddles and
puddles surrounding my
bed there were insects
skating across them—
my brain quivers, a sliver
of doubt and disbelief
like when there’s turbulance on an airplane
puddles in the sky and fog—
there’s no ground there’s
no ground, just—
the bottom of each
puddle, the top of each
passing moment—
dilating as a rumble quakes,
as time expands temporarily
there’s no ground
My Patagonia Skin
When I think—
of Neanderthals
backs dense with coarse fur,
cheeks dotted with whiskers,
banging one rock against another,
cracking one skull after the other,
I don’t think of petroleum plastic fleece skin
or zippers that unzip to reveal
vulnerable fragile meaty onion layers
Evolved forward, but
looking just the same
My Hands Smell Like Horses
My hands smell like horses
Today I ate
and drank water from a cup
and chewed on granola
I splattered some ink on a page
and stomped my feet
I blew steam from my nostrils
when it was cold
I kicked at the shadows
behind me,
generated because of my LED headlamp.
My horses smell like hands
My Beard
It grows on me,
even when I’m not looking
It is a barrier
however thin, between
my face and things
It grows thicker,
in some spots
like a field deprived
of water in
some spots
But my beard—
It’s not deprived of anything
It gathers no nourishment
from my skin or my face
or the water within it
It just tries
millimeter by millimeter
to connect ear to ear
One Day
One day will be great great great great
Every one will have four names
Every two will stay the same
Every three will lose the third
It will never play in the ozone air
Or the carbon fiber trees in the backyard stairwell
Water does not flow here
Green does not grow here
Rocks do not erode here
The bark has fallen from our tree
and it is gone
Electric
A poem inspired by ee cummings
what is it
about thespacebetween
stripped down and naked
where a tension develops
in its awkward-shyness-loveliness
of things to come after
this electricflash moment.
As time slows down bodies
move faster it is so quite
a new thing and fun thing
I hope the second time is alsolike
inout shoulders brushing shoulders
