Commuting

Varied squares and follicular plants
are blown bags on skins of dirt --
polythene tumbleweeds,
spun and grounded, like bees.

Hinged reflections mouthing,
one box to the next,
cloud on glass cloud on wall,
breathing in small spaces

Whetting the brain with
the endless task of complaint.

Holiday

Let's go look at rocks
For a thousand bucks
Ruined by the gasping sun

New Camp

There is always slavery
in man-footed things.

Beauty as far as you can

Women beneath sheets,
and stones.

The eye above and on

Self Portrait (in cut-up, txt version)

briar, toast and loam

High-toned at first
with a leafy onion skin
soon followed by crackling layers of

blood-wood toast
notes that pump

wrapped around the charred
edge holding it all together

Appetizers

Until we’re the thinnest
possible slices.

Not enough to fuck
or throw up.

Day Before (I)

We are tipped
eggs, cupped

Curves. Only
noses poke,

Toes unstuck.
Your Roman

Body, a candle
melted and reshaped.

Ditty (I)

Berried fists of black,
sugared to plastic
containers,

Are tumped into
a hot summer mouth,
smacked loud as a slap.