boom !

Back and forth on a tractor on a dust road,

I can’t stand the blood, I’m

Passing away.

I remember him with his straw hat and folded ears.

I can come back home now to be alone-

only dust roads tasted him, red and flat.

My wife can’t know why

sunset came early, low in the sky.

Deep mahogany, stained as our corner case.

I could tell someone what I saw but

It’s wrong to prophesize.

It’s wrong to lie.

Feeling nothing, probably something,

Do we have children now already?

Can we go back at least on that?

If anything I find can be profound,

of course there is no beginning and no meaningful end

to our dog life,

Miserable and forever curious.

Staring at my back to you in bed,

Don’t you have anything more to say?

I need a celebrity to fascinate me.

I have hunter biking home in my head and now

Food is so unfilling.

Over Fry’s filing, you rustle papers

while I sneak a Twix from his drawer.

At work you have to talk to me like I’m a child,

I am,

I don’t know what you’re saying at all.

When I feel him collecting red at the front of my face

I fake my filing.

So used to calling out, forcing beautiful days,

we don’t know what’s real from 

absolute boredom. I know

I was seen pushing boxes uphill but it wasn’t me.

It wasn't me!

When I’m with her I’m not online.

Riding back at night we’re almost home,

thank God, I know 

you’re not listening and I need to cry about it.

Back at the office

he’s dying at his desk.

He needs those copies 

we can get through two books at once.

One long line at a time,

our eyes see the same.

Two eyes looking at each other,

Two hands held by book on page,

Four for two I can’t not feel that.

You push my face down closer when

I can’t read the words.

Flipping fast ahead,

I don’t want to finish but I’m bound.

I write over the end anyway. Pushed

down now by the pressure,

I understand the misery 

of her face in water.

Laying there, under,

she’s waiting and I won’t get my hands wet.

When covers close I know the deed is done.

You shove my head under,

laying there without words I count

all my living things.

Eyes closed,

I swallow water and wait.

I cover the page like I don’t want 

you to see.

I drop my coins on the floor to read: 

“Something dead’s 

eating me. Quit your

job and go home!”

Calling on monsters to fill in,

do not believe what I cannot be.

Stretching vein,

snapping free,

I can bring bruise back to bucket. Fuck it!

Trying my best to be Villain-

“Kill him!”

I’ll do more good than I claim to see.

Counting change,

feeding me,

with leather.

Weeks go on, tasting better,

we’re comfortable with the stiffness.

One foot nailed to ground, we settle in we

look around. It’s not so bad living in one 

room.

Hold tight, we can make the four corners 

a metaphor.

Light is dark is light,

without windows no one calls

nice or mean or night.

Chewing forever, we’ve turned our four

corners into an approximation.

Throwing head back to spit,

grounding firm into nail into ground,

we can reach Wall One.

Brown leather, blood &salted,

I think we made something beautiful.

I used to be the city. Piercing

my eye now to cry, I

think it’s best if I go home.

Feeling something, probably nothing,

“Everywhere you touch feels clean.”

One hundred and extra degrees,

I can turn covers over &over.

Attention to teething,

are we okay in bed in bib? At

end of crib I grow a little taller.

In total dark I see your blue.

Nod, eyes closed,

Little Prince.

Ready for throne, we have a whole

country to fear.

What happened to me?

I understand I’m supposed to be doing something:

I know I can write something better, I am

the best.

Everything we try will fail.

After the first one I can traumatize myself over &over.

Hearing something,

probably nothing,

slams against her to break.

Frantic to fix my mistake,

I run away in the chaos.

Mistaking hat for head,

Even though I know the answer 

I keep

turning around to bump noses.

Saying I’ll take you at face-value,

I study your face for something else.

Or just to look.

The beginning is not the best.

I am better now, proving misery.

Thinking about heartbreak,

knowing it’s not real, I