•February 17, 2016 • Leave a Comment

the back garden is a liar.
it waits until we’re not
looking to kidnap the sky.

don’t run. there’s singing
on the wind now, foxtail pines
& oh cruelty what did she look like
in sleep. you’re under my spell.
stop running.

\ \
so they call this prayer formation –
pull at her blood, dark
weeds at the root
– I call it my least favorite part of the game.
/ /

do you remember how you came to
me a fistful of berries, thawing
out under an old moon. now, you beg.

\ \
I keep a smile of hers
pressed in wax, a moment
ready to salt the earth
in me
/ /

hush. there’s no need for schemes
where you’re going. you’re mine.



•August 6, 2015 • Leave a Comment

maybe the meteor lost its marbles.
didn’t feel like archiving what was,
so nipping it all in the bud seemed worth it

she dances in the river

every ritual begins with a story we all know
about cowardice

& Death

little kids ask stupid questions
more than any other species of mammal

today, a terrible memory shuts you down
tomorrow we’re all volleyballs

Who won the Ice Age?

I never knew my grandfather
but I hear my grandmother had the pipes
playing the piano is a roadmap I stole from the gas station
she never remarried after he died

in my town the water’s got damn near everyone by the wrist

sometimes people have dusty china for guts

you lose track of who owes you money when an empire collapses
I lost my legs years ago

Your lips are tickling
the cloud of static you inhaled

it’s been 25 years
isn’t anyone going to apologize for this hex?

the scorpion sings Trust
the turtle hears him out

shooting their feet

•August 6, 2015 • Leave a Comment

7th Heaven always seemed unrealistic, you know?

Michigan is this fork I pressed to a burner on your stovetop

The joke is I was a fin rising from the deep

Hey, someone go buy beer

If I slap it, it stops itching but bleeds more

O hell, the Tired Ones twist in August

This leg of mine

This 4 hour long dinner party

No way the old bikes are worth a fortune

A baby throws slices of peach onto the sand

At the wedding, you spin out going 96 words per minute

No leftovers tonight, she says

This room is a 10 person solitaire game

The rulebook’s rotting in my left knee


•October 26, 2014 • Leave a Comment

people say witches eat little kids
fatten them up at their cabins
must not be many eagle scouts
with string round their fingers to remember
their hearts, the way home in the dark

children of divorce sing
birthdays are a national holiday
so who cares about the parent trap

I mean we’re all just whoever
roll tape — I’m an actor
picture me as ben savage
though I’m half-hispanic & younger
so maybe picture me off set,
baking croissants at 2 am
or vomiting up red wine
maybe I’m nothing like cory,
only playing idiot, making eyes at the stars

roll tape, decode the moaned spells —
that time I drove you
to providence & back
the cop we drove behind slowing down
& yeah we talked about your hometown
you rolling your eyes in time with my breathing
some lipstick-painted love song on the radio
your parents beating the minotaur
crumbs on the forest floor
katy perry singing you make me feel
like I’m living a teenage dream

hands on the wheel, fingers crossed

oh sweetheart, my bright light
here, roll tape for the hell of it —
you were forever
the pillars carrying the sky
draped in red ribbon
your voice was the first
you could carve the moon
out of my heart, now
I wouldn’t even mind

Unwriting You [a journal entry from 07/21/14]

•October 24, 2014 • Leave a Comment

Dogs are ugly and you
are nothing like an elephant
and you never taught me
anything about sex and your boots
definitely intruded on my personal
space and you never pulled me
out from under the couch that tried
to keep me forever and there is no
ferris wheel in your smile and I
never loved you while you were sick

and no one is ever going to
remember us least of all for our
third-rate romantic comedy
dilemmas and I still get drunk all
the time but not always when I think
of you and the river beside smith
college never smelled like you

and you were never the hunter alive
no never the wild and the sky
has never been full of fire
in your name and you will never
cause me to hear violins and I
am not a fucking Magician and
you are not the boomerang I thought
you were and you are gone.

all girls git killed

•September 14, 2014 • Leave a Comment

in my nightmares lately
the coyotes do the electric slide
spit out my bones like splinters
giggling that my life’s a joke
the places I miss have next year under their belts
the eyes I can’t shut up about say check, please
& my grave will be a shitty tourist attraction
you’ll leave your wallet at home
but it’s okay because “we’re good”
& every Idaho trailer park is orange
an inferno screaming in tribute
I sit there alone, remembering
I never finished those letters
all those girls I thought I loved,
they keep getting lost in my head
next to the bleeding skunk on the freeway
ants crawling in v formation
& the radio’s only playing smooth jazz
& my smile is granite
my smile is actually Halley’s comet
I would burn your headboard
& lie to the officers about where I was last night
it’s funny — when people ask how I am
I just say living the dream

gable & monroe a.d.

•September 11, 2014 • Leave a Comment

I walked home from a bar last night
& saw a poster that said trust me,
I’m a Scientologist, & I realized
I was actually holding my breath
while trying to sing the alphabet
backwards, in case a cop forced me
to stop walking before I hurt someone
at the bar, people were talking a lot
of shit they barely cared about
& I felt whole
& I ran up to the room with the pool table
& sang the alphabet out loud
to the tune of die die my darling
& then I yelled fuck yeah glenn
before stepping outside
hunting for my pillow