#ALLMEN

i love you. you hear me right

i'll get in a car of you.

i'm comfortable a good amount of the time

that i spend singled out among you.

i'm comfortable chatting with you.

i scale a big wall during our talks.

i can't sleep very well with all the

imagining you don't exist and

untensing. what is that.

do i fear you? i think you are

a fucking baby.

you are a baby that could smash 

my bones. i don't think you would ever do that.

do i think that you have that in you?

i don't ever want to kill you,

but i want the power to

make you get away from me.

i'm comfortable walking when none of you

are visible. then i wonder if i'm not paying attention.

i'm terrified when you slow down.

when you yell i want myself to die,

because i can't yell back and

my hatred ate my oxygen i am a pillar

of flamming silence.

i want you to drive me to your house

but maybe you don't have roomates at home

who would hear if you start murdering me.

maybe they'd just be more of you

to help you murder me.

i love you. i want to give you honorary indentification

but you are already rejecting it for

the entire time i've known you.

you choose or don't choose to be one

but are one.

I START TO WITHHOLD MY TIME

no more late night confession booth sitting.
i want you to want to talk to me for some reason,
but more quickly now i want to hang up.
or just delete your contact from my phone
because it was long enough ago. i didn't like the fight.
i giggle my intellect with the look of persimmon leaf
for a second before i disown my desire to write about
just it. it's dark. i yelled. i yelled slogans with a
cracked voice. a bunch of strangers and me kept it up
and a few friends i don't know much about.
somewhere in my head or throat, rotten
is reminding my of a poem i wrote not that long ago.
my strong feelings are from memories now, which is why
i don't feel in love with you, who i shared no
memories with. making it up used to taste ok.
it's changed to like the smell of synthetic fragrance.
why would i want to cover my body with that
horrible thing you are.

OVERWHELM

hello 

i hugged two band members

over five dollars for gas

i would have kissed any of them

i would have kissed all 3 woman friends

who i saw there

i would have kissed the one man friend who drove me home.

god bless any hugger.

god bless any friend willing to help drunk me.

god bless all the dead children.

im going to move slow tomorrow, 

but i really love you.

im going to really love you until

everyone dies

or longer.

DIARY

a sore developed inside my mouth
on the other side of my lip
from where one of the pan lids
bashed me in the face,
causing me to imagine
my skin flapping and running with blood.
but it wasn't that.
a few months ago at work
a child i was sitting with
flung his head into my chin
making a crunch and when
i stuck my finger in my mouth,
a flake of my front tooth came out,
causing me to imagine
my teeth crumbling to half their lengths,
but it was just one and it's worn smooth now.
last fall i for the first time in my life
slept with someone
i had wanted to sleep with for years,
causing me to descend into a frenzy
where i thought i wanted to be pregnant,
but he's never going to look me in the face again.
i shouldn't be surprised about having been in love
even though i'm not now.
you all had one gift in common with me.

HIDDEN

its not easy to walk fast and type poems

some response is good 

the languages of human are so metal

being drawn into wire

i have a new nickname

because i live with God The Unmarked.

i pray for thunder to burst my bubble.

i told God that i felt there was someone

waiting to talk to me at home and that

when i realized it wasn't true, my love

didn't stop flowing towards the person.

UNTHANK PARK

there was in my childhood a time

when i could not personally accrue debt

and i did not have to steal

to eat and i was not legally a target

and i listened hard even so

many of the talks around me were

missing important pieces.

look the poet is flapping its face

about something no one can see.

when i said i was sick of invisible people,

i meant that i didn't like feeling so attached

to a person on the other side of mountain fences.

this idea has already occurred to me,

the one where i out all my secret meanings

one line at a time, flip their literals up.

when the woman in legends of the fall

cut her hair off in front of me,

i had already had mine removed.

she was staring at the mirror,

but i was searching her eyes for

if this meant i wanted to leave the world, too.

OLD FASHIONED

i'm not so so
at a new time when
lines fork out to eat on
the alter instead of
light my ghost.

today the catch is tackle.
you can see what I mean
floating over the road to
make you swerve.

TUMMIES

hearing my peoples
so sad. MY LOVE
a room after i
sung with concern
in my new language.
i want to pertain and
to be in wind and marvel.
read to me, great span.
without my auger
there are no careful
ways i can find your
speaking layer.
i do as good as
poems spinning me lower,
where this poem is
telling me to climb.
i learned to speak for
i don't know why
the truth that only
had made me a
new people. 

KEEP IT TO YOURSELF

one project: gather the last words of women murdered by the state, counterrevolutionary forces, or their boyfriends. and i guess letterpress them?

another project: there's a place further east in the real midwest that prints their own currency and uses it in a self-made local economy that exists parallel to the other one that rips people's entrails out and ties them to the bottom of the road. do that?

another project: write poems duh.

another project: have a kid with someone who doesn't suck and doesn't mind what people like to call my "contrarian" approach and thinks i'm sexy but never calls me something i think it's stupid to want to be, like beautiful.  mod: adopt a kid with someone... etc.

another project: learn how to operate anonymously would maybe be good.

another project: go to sleep. but i've been writing about going to sleep and melodramatically.

another project: i truly love M.I.A.

CONFUSING RESOURCE CENTER

every one of them talks.
found something about myself this trip:
i want to 'go back'
in even small denominations,
like i want to lay in the cemetery twice.
leading up to my release,
songs that said "you can come back"
held my skeleton up and out,
and upon me a rock, a river,
your country, memorizing this poem off encarta,
memorizing this poem again but the whole length
and saying it to all the strangers in my new shitty high school.

the first month i got paid to work in a school,
it was like 8 schools, and i hated being in secondary.
one reason is: it was the first time i realized that
i'm very very very very slow at becoming whole.

look into your sister's eyes, stupid. look with your brother's face.

come back to the bar where i spilled beer
on one person and bought four beers to compensate.

come back to the top of town and stare at the mountain,
then the buildings that get paid to stare it down.
the rocks, the windiest riverbend on earth, the hiking deaths.

i felt like a swagger in the nines. i rarely feel like a swagger.
i felt somewhere else when i chewed the third oyster.

i want to go back to bed, your country,
and say simply, very simply, with hope,
"i'm sleeping".