Awaiting the Snowstorm

White ash and cold sand I breathe in the crystals I breathe in my throat in my windpipe I breathe in its edges
I breathe in and breathe in
a push over the wet wall the white beast that weighs down the trees
a woman sits in the kitchen playing with centipedes she cleans the floor when winter eats Milwaukee your icy hands Judy
she cleans it and opens the pantry the air is cutting her she eats thin mints she eats hang nails pushes over a wet wall holds her fist over a pin hole of sun
white ash and cold sand I breathe in your crystals I breathe in my throat in my windpipe I breathe in your edges
I shovel you and shovel you
a woman sits in the kitchen she plays with centipedes she cleans when winter eats Milwaukee she eats thin mints
your pearly teeth Gary your icy hands Judy we clean the floor in the cutting air where the woman eats thin mints she plays with centipedes

To Ozzy, All Alone While I Am at Work

Apologies for the taste of my neck
my fingers deep in the velvet of your armpits
rat noises when I sneeze
wolf ones when I yawn
for Glade clean linen which doesn't smell clean at all
for the distance between one gate and the other
that pine needles prick the roofs of mouths
that vinegar erases the sweet smell of rot
for coffee ready at 7 AM
for sweatshirts without hoods
for Velcro
for the masters
both yours
and mine

Face Down Feels the Best

she lay on her back on a mattress of river facing upward
dumbly staring away from me as I strode into traffic
neglectful mouth-breathing mother
palm's always up as if to perpetually say duh what can you do she is hopeless hopeless hopeless
her soggy stare and frog belly cheeks
floating among the displaced and disenfranchised petals
half submerged in a boggy cocktail is where flowers are supposed to be
burnt virgins may have supplied the foam her dress is made from
I honked her waterlogged carcass algae green, murky blue, spots of blood and bile
always clashing with the browns and blacks of my youth
around and around the frozen circle of this Midwestern NASCAR track
on which I am forever turning left
fish scented water on my wheels
deadcold enough to paralyze lips
I said I would not lay down on my back but I did
and after coughing out the dust cloud
I threw her in the dumpster
the same stupid look was still on her doughy face

Ode to White Noise

Please
become unfrozen
relentless brain jizz
crazy jasmine that blows not through
just out in globs and bubbles on the sheets
ever unzipped nasal raspberry ever present ever amazing
blooming desert that drones and sizzles
slow dissolving lozenge lodged in my wizened palm
long resentments
diseased peasant
your easy kisses your haze of ghost milk your zephyr spasm buzz
your present unsent your maze of raisin
warmth of sideways
I am laying

Point Eight

the one who leaves the lights and the heat on
the one who steals the covers
the one who I wait for
the one who puts too much ice cream on the spoon
the one who knows computers
the one who holds up a mirror
the one who breathes fire now and then
the one who I'll lose on the road
the one who works my equator
the one who I fail most
the one who lose my hair back on
the one who glides down the steely silver of my dreams
the one who sounds like green ink
the one who clowns
the one who folds flame

Base Line

grape like lily pad seeds in a cluster
bursting with the treasure of perfect slime
crawdads breathe their last and stink on the shoreline
the aroma of lake mud pies
liquid cashmere water sand solution
glint of bluegill scales defend a divot of nest
darting confetti of minnows
heart-shaped leaves applaud
the lake has cotton mouth
to shear the cause depletes the shade
a green menace screen of tiny globules
bubbling magma of living fibers
chokes the blue
slick leatherback shells appeared later
in the eyes of a boy
along with the sting of stumps still lodged
in the bottom from when
this was still a hiding place for muskrats

Eat Me Forever

not to let the rust near the rose
pumpkin tangerine mango salmon
hunched over soggy in the break room I become vegetable
not to let the aquamarine touch the mint
slinky toothpaste colored clubwear
looks like discarded napkins
not to leave unbuttoned and inside out on the hanger
sweat loosens my sleeves
flitting from line to dressing room to line unhinges my belt
my heel bone bitches at the floor
the floor scolds back
not to see red flowers too prominent or stripes too wide
on Fridays we wear black
absolute funeral black
death to little girls playing dress-up! death to fuchsia! death to kimchi blue! death to halter! death to spaghetti strap! death to heather gray! death to pink!
the refrigerator didn't do anything wrong
I slam it shut anyway

The Icicle

Winter's drool path can impale
the unsuspecting fools who believed in you

Failure is a luxuriously slow drip-by-drip process
in the morning it appears glistening and sudden

What was a line of spry sparkling kisses
now jammed together in the shape of a canine

The ever returning sun reveals the pollutants
silent like germs

Specks of grit and tiny insects
taste like your name sounds

You try again, but the melting
just sharpens the point

Makes shriller the spitting
sound of breakage

The noise of gravity
that has no
reverse