the air is so quiet you
can almost hear the leaves
and we shoot holes in the air
with the punctuation
and punchlines
of our stories

the hills around roll up and yawn
there’s the sweet smell of
barbeque and cut grass in the air

it’s easy to watch stories build
up in front of the bright lights
of tractor trailers
it’s hopeless to wonder what
it would be like any other way
or with any other configuration

it’s easy to visit and revisit
each niche of every twist
and turn
it’s impossible to wonder
where this all is
when we are not here




i am basking in the power of humility
which is a paradox i suppose
but last week is today and
tomorrow could’ve been yesterday
if i preferred pedestals to picture frames

but just like brendan and his lover
we are guilty
we are dangerous
and i like to live like
i could actually think like that

i can share a BBQ potato chip moment
with pavel and call him my friend
my brother in mesquite
because he is of the sort that
understands that sort of thing

dennis i think it was dennis
he said he was happily pixelated
at the bottom of a bottle
looking down or around
but isn’t that us in there
sitting right there next to him?

scanned in and broken down
from the sum of unequal parts
into happily digestible pixels
picture cells
provided to us by a tube
you know… that tube
fed our trust without question
fed while we choke on that tube
till we stop reading the ingredients on the label
because we trust
that the FDA wouldn’t want to hurt us
because those are my goddamned tax dollars

i’m just like my pop really
but don’t tell him that i winked
when i told you so

still some of us notice that there are
three cabs lined up on third street at the bowery
and some of us see the fires unattended
out of instinct i lean forward
out of history you know that this means to kiss me



somewhere in this egosystem we see fireflies
if we just know where to look.
though there’s holes in my ozone,
i know how to put curtains around them now
and to take my friend by the arm
to assure her that there is zen
in here
in this
this… fertilizer.
and yes, indeed, that is a lovely shade
of bitter you’re wearing,
but that’s also why i love you.
why i hold your hand through
the dark spots of the park.

full moon


i had this conversation with the moon the other night
out there on the sidewalk i stared at her
till my contacts were blurry
till my point of contact was three feet below
and i realized it took a year
a whole goddamned year
for me to finally fall into my own skin
and here she was again
passing through us all
and the summer nights are cooler now
and maybe the wine flows a little slower now
but she shows her whole face to mine
and y’know i think i got it right this time

hide and seek


i spent time in a thirty-ninth printing
living a history not of my making
and it would seem that i have lost myself again
in the short pants of seasons past

the day-shift shifted home while i smoked
and the heat was still unforgiving while i wrote
but here i was
stuck in the passage of time
hearing the ice cream truck song while
i sucked on a lime

and i remembered that my love
will always play hide and seek
maybe for another day
maybe for another weak



it is sometimes okay to sleep alone
because it is sometimes known
that we are never really alone

i am only now sort of approaching and negotiating
this whole “do what i want” thing
and it is a strange taste
but practice makes perfect
because this time i just wanted to walk away
i just wanted to be somewhere else
and to know that in my bed
i was alone with a love
that never seems to leave me alone

because sometimes i remember times never better
and most times i accept that sometimes
it’s simply okay
to just have good times

cuz poetry sings to me on saturday night
whether i’m lashed or not
and it just so happens
that i am
and have been
in so many ways
huhn huhn huhn

but tha dj playz da funk
and an empty bar empties itself
of drink and i told you
i told you i had juu-juu about this week
i said so
and so it was
so it was the blind playing the blind

passing through


just for a second you caught a fleeting glimpse of me
behind that heaving slammed door and just for a second
i think you understood what it means to be me

for thirty seconds or slightly more i believed in a man
who believes i have the power to change the world
and if that feeling is replaced by hangover in the morning
at least i have these words to serve as my memory
or my warning

because thirty minutes ago my wallet went walking again
and for the first time ever i just laughed at its wanderlust ways
before picking up the phone to call citibank and say
no no no no no more

but twenty-five minutes later my wallet found a mommy
this time from tennessee on the upper east side
a few blocks from my first apartment
my first encampment
in the city that i learned takes care of its own
whether with tunafish or swordfish
it is there

i wrapped two arms around its plastic sheathed coating
and danced on the bed screaming that i was
in love in love in love love love

out the window and through the door into my love
it held me close and wrapped a blanket of sticky steamed heat
around me just to remind me that enough time had passed
to let a lil streak of summer peek in