As I was eating a bowl of rice,
What she was doing was kissing
Another man,
Eyes the sensing pistons, lips the
...
I think I would like a house with an orange tree,
And neighbors who never grow old,
And laugh and kiss openly on the patio;
Already retired, now they drink beer and smoke,
...
Strangeness of unaccounted numbers slithers
Through the unmowed grass,
Through another day of monsooning summer
Under the mobile of a smiling moon,
...
You deserve better words than mine,
Angled in soft lies, like prehistoric trout found
In the oily conservation of their brief lives:
I flow upstream for you with all I can,
...
Here: the scars are awkward:
They prevent romance, but not love;
They prevent a meaningful conclusion to
Those erection which go up like cerulean tents
...
The work is really about the work, they sing:
The young punks with Mohawks and hair-lips.
Tree frogs jeweled in heliotrope, they sing. The
Epitaphs they give these graveyards in mass, our song,
...
An hour past noon,
Fingers itching from the caffeine,
Gun in the bottom drawer with the bullets,
But there isn’t going to be a fight.
...
A rhyme, a dime, a talking fool:
I step outside and in the insouciant yard my
Pen*s jewels:
By my lead, my dogs go out and scent the
...
There is no subtly, so this is not art,
The pornography of a greeting card can say
I love you as coolly as an apathetic banker,
Thusly I greet you again, like a stranger out
...