(2015)
here’s a story. it may even be true. where i come from nothing ever sucks, so i
the conquering child turns 50, gets the gag out its mouth, says here i am. let’s play now
unspeakable dearth of nutrient the cause of the complaint, lack of the sweet titmilk of human connection,
lie still. be quiet. please understand what happens so, next time
liking to say things, all kinds of things, mostly about the way things seem
stupid met crazy decided to have a baby or two... what else you gonna do?
oh, and how it gets you these bastard assumptions, one or two commonalities
does a king come ready– made, or doesn’t he emerge from a prince once a frog, and aren’t you
you are guilty of failing to love and understand me, like a dog is guilty of failing to speak or use
of course it is not about you. you have to know this, like baby birds know worms come with mother’s return,
my spirit sings to you, clears and quickens. losing you is impossible
the center holds itself still that rockets believably may be seen exploding in all directions from somewhere vaguely
I understand the tattoo now “VERITAS” on your wrist, only there because it is entirely absent everywhere else.
I love how you talk Down to everyone In your poems Which, unlike fiction Are not covered
something you need makes you its bitch, yes even as it isn’t coming, no when love stands you up & all the more sweet