Baby I can drive your pizza

The pace put dances in my feet
each toe twich demanding:
"Can I put fire in your kitchen?"
as the cheese melted into my mind
and sweet basil coaxed the nose to a pointed joy,
I churned my my wheels for a dime
and made an investment out of smiles.

You have to look at the moon

September nights are just about the best
for sharing the moon.
After I watched your fingers use up
all the sugar,
you disappeared
and I added an extra something special to the decadence.

the anti-groceries

Too hungry
every resource reduced to nibbles
cereal everywhere.

small things

the fluid pushes against a heavy weathered night
in the small things we find reprieve.

Shyness

We pooled anxieties in a smallish corner of the dwindling festivities
our lucidity more deeply pronounced by the rain-drunk backdrop,
the Icarus words fell feathery from our mouths
each kiss pulling closer to the sun,
in small moments of cloudy purple afterglow
the danger ripped us past out nervousness
and we made savage whispers in the strangeness of the night.

Mai Li and her party

I gave you my sweat
and the night churned out sweet music
born of innumerate voices
vibrating to a single possible consciousness,
we each become
swooning disciples of your skin
drank out every scrap of swinging meaning
grateful for the lingering vulnerability.

eating together

No more oblong meals
no cereal in the afternoon,
the air around your body is nutritious,
sweet flavors bring vitality to the doorstep,
every bite seasoned just so
happy mouths lead to happy hearts.

Nonchalance is just a waste of good exclamation points

I'd like to be a somersault in the season of your mind's catapult
Show you how time unlocks
measurement by measurement
and never again
let nonchalance waste our pointed exclamations.

long walks

Stretched every inch of the legs,
pushed the limits of the stride,
pulled back by thick fabrics,
let the ache rush in.

presage

9/17
tangled limbs create fully developed shadows on the sidewalk
the rain
while constant,
never admits its conciliatory role
in September's seduction,
pulling fall down sunshine's legs
"yes please" screams a distant but possible winter.

Every descending molecule is loaded
I will meet you in the winter
and we'll make the most of whatever the cold my bring
find the marrow in any weather.


9/18
Critically developed temperaments
create strained containers for affection
what we make of our sensations
is what separates us from the sponges and barnacles.


9/19
We slept on the front porch and drank sunrises
to stave off the hangovers
who danced ominous on the leftover dance floor.
Softly ridiculous
the words meandered like sleeping bubbles
our heavy swirls were popped by the occasional rainshower
and sometimes a parting partygoer might puncture our balconied dreamspace
a hushed tension would gather sober footprints
and we would giggle in their passing absence.
The thin ashy down didn't even tickle.
Your laughter helped whales breach my imagination,
breathed light into the peeking-out sandbar
and knitted whimsy into a purple sky.

9/20
In each dream I could be
cursed and furious
because I slept
just that
deep.

blurp

the chain-link fence growls in the teeth of a distant wind,
aren't you happy it's raining again?

effing jobsearch

Acid buildup is corrosive to possibility,
been harvesting against it
pocketing possibility
for the later peddling of every trajectory.

Hoist the Colors

In my hands our hair blends together
suspended by cries getting higher & higher
the colors lose meaning between fingers
your hands making the most of a fidgety soul.
My ribcage is the mousetrap that ate the beating canary,
spring-loaded mouths clench the mixing metaphors.

I've stopped caring about being obvious
just being there & there & there,
fully living in our skins,
making every movement a journey
which refuses to be anything but about itself.

When the destination found our bodies
sweet yellow meaning flew singing from our chests.

for yesterday... (a potluck got in the way)

Sharing Rhythms
all around the table we danced
and devoured each other's laughter,
gold foamy joy pools into a smiling belly
you grabbed hold of my make-believe
and I listened to the sounds in your hands.

so much romance!

9/11
Dancing drunk on a bicycle train,
music moved via pedal and the blurring of spokes,
we played in so many circles
caught exhaustion as the tires growled up the hill
curled into an elongated, two-wheeled togetherness.

9/12
how silly of me
to think,
just because we couldn't feel it
time got lost in the afternoon between us.

typewriter light

two lamps drink the darkness
devour the shadows who fall though window
a small moth hides winged shapes behind the typewriter,
flying secrets held in by dust and zippers.

scummy buildup

9/6
support
wrap
and hold.
Pull & pull & pull,
canvas for sunspots
skinsea of sunflower memories

9/7
Clarity bells on either side of the chest
shudder and sing,
that smile brings so much color to your face.

9/8
little purple memories pressed into the skin
smile and slick over as my body narrowly misses the rain
plunging into afternoon
each stride is full and unafraid,
thoughts fold softer
like construction paper oragami
an uneven puddle could easily undo all the angles,
and I am thinking of you
when the motions settle
your words make me hungry for life.

9/8
Body, body why can't you live without a goddam lullaby?!
such movement stuck me too much in my body
hours after the coffee was exhausted
every cell is still awake.

9/8
With small swoops of magic
you can hide a story inside two hanging hats,
pull the words inside out
don't be fooled by your amazement,
this bliss is no trick.

9/4
Subtext
Couldn't leave
that long blond body in the door frame
drew me back from the nearly irresistible dancing
restless legs pull toward the doorway
in that passage we were much more than shadows
we fell into subtexts of light
mouths moving between the lines.


9/4
Less than settled
unkempt
a compression in chest
tangles over the air around you.
The quality of tension can't stand definition.
For the moment
I'll send you what I can
maybe tomorrow they'll be chocolate on the horizon.


9/3
Escape
the laughter crackled like baklava
sweet triangular sounds
fractaling through the air

too much covered skin
as the heat melted us down to our cores,
small words uncurl out the window like a rope ladder
or a rusty fire escape
jury-rigged to serve the purpose of other escapes
motivational twitches sing our bodies closer
and we bring the pinstripes to life
into each subject sounded
we inject the size of a song
stupid music pushes, pushes, pushes every boundary.
When you hang you legs out the window
the entire sidewalk unravels.

Breakfast poems

Stair-step ivy is a diagonal smile on the chain-link fence
green makes its crooked saunter into the sky
where the shattered clouds refuse to gather.

Poetry is the black rattle
of a crow's hidden mouth.