poem: lately i have been thinking about heat

and the way the desert, as an idea,sits apart and reacts to you. it is watching to see if you will make it out alive. or if you are one of the dead girls strungup first economically and then aggressively or if you arethe red stain left across the hands and thealtar. as long as…

poem: the sense of reading a Japanese novel.

the spangled aspect of things, the clench which will -- always be withme, laying too long in bed too much a half hour, the ocean madand white with spray on the beach -- always in myhead. when we walked on the marina in the salt-air I thought, this isa place I could live. the light…

poem: venus in a dirty bedroom

why is it so hard to sit down & work! but the logician goes mad faster than the poet,the logician wants to fit heaven into his head. i believe i read that on twitter, sitting alsoin a cafe in tight yoga pants. and my cute little ass! can you really call mean incel with an…

poem: the problem with the manga was that the characters were far more insane

it's 2006 there are half moon creases in my face from my fingernails fromtrying to tear out the blackheads. it's 2022 i have reddit pulled up welcome to then.h.k. manga vs anime another night spent alone. i will imagine him holding mein order to sleep. in highschool i imagined the world razed and fucked laid…

poem: lifeboat

i am tired of the body horrors of other people's children, i would like(pretty please) cotton-candy romance. an empty park at sunset with the geeserunning backwards and the bench making crosses in my back. the way his hair drips over his eyes, his shirt tight against his shoulders. all you internetghouls (i am among you):…

poem: love story, spring

in the sticky wet parts of your eyes -- do you remember --the unfortunate, maniac -- me? and my -- powerstruggle. so that I am where I am today. and the universe will bendto me if I lick it. and you willbend to me if I bend down, lick your -- and the spring fell…

poem: breasts and eggs

she is standing in the stairway -- red overalls and shinyblack hair dancing around her neck in the lopped-off way that i always wanted (when i cut my hair shortit is a tempest, a misery.) she is maybe forty, she lookstwenty-five. i want to ask her: why is itwhen i have just gotten overone thing,…

poem: storm

the faucet is on so the pipes don't freeze; throughout my wholebreakfast and coffee-drinking ritual, the water is a silentlurker in the background. i have never read Faust, but somethingin this snowstorm makes him omnipresent; he is a man and he isstanding in the snow. watching me naked through the window. i puton an old…

poem: the sun also rises

I have this idea of maine -- the ocean is a small god, a constantalways suicide; there are pine trees like there werepine forests in my childhood, their raging phallic heads high above the fire, the drifting smote, the cow-flysilluminated from behind and turned into fairies. I have this ideaof paris, with long cafe-evenings enveloped…

poem: everybody wants to get right back to the chorus

hero-ika mad, her name was something foreign, she hadpre-raphaelite posters on the wall, new yorkertote bag tucked like a third armunder the anthropologie coat. can't you imagine fucking -- her? neither can I, in this culture, we don't fuck anymore / at all; everything is online, everything is ironic. and the warm air went softly…