ALL FLOWS OUT

in a noisy, i just look away.

needing advice for my coward

born with bruised wrists

because i was eating at them.

i don’t know the word twisting

when it does. i said 27/34

words of the poem my right mind

knows, and CLEAR IS MY SOUL

AND ALL THAT IS NOT MY SOUL.

to sleep is punishment.

eating is nice but

hunger is punishment.

i try for five days what took him

quite some years to live with.

i cut a lime the wrong way

only once. i cut it every day.

clear is my sensitive belly button

and the skin on my fattest parts

getting cold first.

because of chemical jewelry in my blood,

i have wanted to name a baby

since wednesday morning.

BECAUSE PAUL CELAN

over the evening paint 

of the first bulb's segmentation, 

a late husk, evermorning pigment 

separating from the plane of skin 

and not facing a barricade when it 

skims inways toward the lakebed.

it takes a second for my tactile feed 

to become audible, asking why 

has the yolk in you stayed whole 

all this time that clicks against it, 

threatening it, making me from below 

a lousy mouth hanging open in wait.

PINNED TO THE LAKEBED

i wanna puke
there's too much poetry for me.
my mouth won't close
i broke my crooked fronts on
scratching through the light boxing me.
i don't wanna cry but i am.
when's the last time i stood outside and waved until someone was gone?
i'm a floppy person
i guess i screech.
the floor is altered completely by one pillow.
why will no one stick her hand in my hair regularly?
i'll never try too hard to know.
in heaven
you get to choose your fatigue for a living.

AS IF CAREENED FORWARD TO MEET ME

many parts burnt
warm patches
of soft living problem
the food of all biting flies
the smelt leviathan
hey dog
how are your brains
i hear you cry
you look 12
you've been through many seasons
of trying to get pregnant
don't let me stop you
from romp and loud talk
not my place
my imagination
is a dashboard of touching
and i can't make anything
less than decades practiced
happen

trying for a magic dream

anyways i'm calling kyle jackson out of the water

my friend kyle

the first friend of my own west

the laughing river student

kyle i hear you fixing fence

kyle i hear you chuckling when i pee off the boat

it's cold on this rock

what can i think strong enough,

your image?

i rode on your bike with you driving it

about broke my foot

i saw skyfall with you

we both said "MOMMY ISSUES??!!"

you are in the too calm sea, kyle

your squeaky scruff, look at this beard,

aww good hug

i can hear you comforting the other six

bury the earth in wind if that makes you move

back in the direction of a beach to bless.

DANCING W/O A FACE

in this crowd surprised
i am both and moving
will something happen to one of us
that makes us sink ourselves
to find how we were 'before it'?
don't worry about
what i'm going to do
pity the onlooker
watching me yawn my body
and jiggle my endless head
all the way to the state line
i tried to find her
she'd been shocked outside
of her presence
at loss for grip
she doesn't like slavery
but i grab her and put her
back in with me
and we work over
to where smoke comes out
licking together like
the forked sense of
a single handsless brute
this is the story of
murder averted
at a point of overlap
there's every type of waste
she says she feels weird
waiting here
counting skin
looking at the floor
where i dumped out our drink

THE EARTH IS MADE OF PRIVATE PROPERTY

my body is proud of me.
the people i know think it's idiotic
to walk 20 miles over night.
but if i don't do it,
only the people who have to will.

i'm walking
to notice all the places
where it's illegal for a person to sleep.

there is a lack
of bathrooms.

a woman stopped and said
"do you want a ride"
and when i said no thanks she said
"it's dangerous out here"

but it's not.
it's just night.
it smells terriffic.

i haven't tried to live
in an 'actually dangerous' neighborhood,
mostly, it's the people who have to who do.

i'm not sure what will happen when i get to the point
where i have to walk next to a highway.

are the ditches full of water?
is there any safe/legal way to walk along the highway?

there are no predators in the ditches.
the sound of rabbits across grass startled me:
the sound of something running to me.
the sound of awake.

i'm walking
to demonstrate to my sister
that you don't have to pay anyone
to move your body
from one place to another.
little sister: happy birthday:
freedom will not kill you
even in the middle of the night.

i'm walking to see the sun come up.

i'm walking to get home over 20 miles.

i'm walking to rest myself.

if you don't understand
why i would want to do this,
i'm walking to tell you.