|
1. |
|
|
|
|
Did you see that barnyard flower?
Would it dignify the asphalt?
Was it through that dimpled screen door?
Could you read the blurry caption?
No, I was looking for my nephew
in the looming sidewalk bushes
Could you hear the gruesome crash?
At the complicated intersection
Did it interrupt your stories?
Was it only stormy weather?
No, I was listening for voices
in the static interference.
Although I string the words in order,
I can't establish meaning.
I hear the water boil
when I see the rising steam.
Did you say where you were going?
Did you pantomime remorse?
When you were whispering you IOU's
did it shred your vocal cords?
I said goodbye to the city of peacocks
I spit my gum in a basket of tropical fruit
I snubbed my nose
Gargled my passcode to giddy abandon
I wiped the drool off my chin with the cuff of my blouse
I cast redemption out of me
|
|
2. |
|
|
|
|
Parsley for the modern dish
The physical realm is a sequin veil
Welcome to frosted glass
Don't ask what gentle clouds the sky
I woke up with this song on my face
I wasted my youth
Humor waxes the neediest beg
I said I was done but I'm not
|
|
3. |
|
|
|
|
Fishy deploys the messy medium
One lawn chair beside the mumbling grass
The median cat evokes a desirable air
Faking the guest list
Go home and go to sleep, it's Saturday night
I saw him punch his palm in the exit row
The wet thwack, two fat hands
I lifted one ear-flap during the conversation
Fishy signs plaster the ritzy bubble
One little kid, one little kid
The medium drink clears the plastic thermos
Dripping self-confidence man
Go out in the gray world, the work week
I saw him loose his hesitant foot
The clumsy lope, the cane
I named it in exchange for this
|
|
4. |
|
|
|
|
30 minutes and its yours
30 minutes older
Hoedown at the down-home morgue
Halfway through the halftime war
Surrender with a halftime feel
Purebred choreography
Wheelbarrows down free cruelty corridor
where effigies scratch glass cupboard doors
Romance at the padlock potluck
Flickering cashmere candles
Steam adorns the linen soup
Clean design stumps the sawed-off trunk
The service economy chews your lunch
30 minutes clock-out break
Can enable the shopping basket-case
Add this to your cart
Labor is a work of art
the waiting is the hardest part
when the party was loud
said I haven't got the heart
the spine hardly holds the head
heavy branches break the tree
the most important part for me
is what it means to you
|
|
5. |
|
|
|
|
I ask me this
autographs the sitcom
Unwanted I worry the ponytail taut
It's not even eleven
Whenever the median tickles the wheels on the bus
Unlovely loosens the sordid denial
Eyes on the wardrobe door
The story was wounded
The music was
|
|
6. |
|
|
|
|
I never knew
a permanent stain
a clean perspective would allow.
The cloudy day
comforts me.
I never held a languid pose.
|
|
7. |
|
|
|
|
Have a blessed day disaster
The folded sun impassive
And swerving the split u-turn, your shadowy car
How I wonder what you are
When bad eyes unblink defiance
Dread bubbles over my surly island
Before I tell you don't tell
3 drops
|
|
8. |
|
|
|
|
Crude language and mildew
Fantasy water is a free add-on
The restive jay's limpid squawk
Gray water tiara
We saw the hawk drink mud
The panicked device drowns in beige rice
Crows taunting the factory cats
Peel a khaki banana peel back
You need to pay attention
Bland applause
Unspools the cottony nightmare meal
Your painted tile basin
I swore a fungus cloud for you
I drank the cloudy tap
I thought I heard angry birds
I saw you try the necklace on
I saw you watch the sewage stream
I saw it on the clipping feed
When heaving cogs whistle in rooms
Collars the keeper in cuffs
Raw ammunition
To mesmerize the laughing broth
Threads the rusted screw
I painted a face on my face
I picked at the mold on the grout
I lionized the drainage ditch
I let the weather in
I drew the lightning through my house
I drew the lightning through my house
Wherever resentment runs deep
I saw wilderness pickled in offices
And swaddled in plexiglass sheets
|
|
9. |
|
|
|
|
corroded rose
cast-iron bunny rabbit
I broke the antique book
I carried the shopping cart to the next booth
I felt like a dirt field destined for condos
I saw the man cave artisan
metallic rocks
midwest driftwood
home of the frozen fishbowl
home of the old world mask
semiautomatic muscular golf cart
|
|
10. |
|
|
|
|
you know I want to lay down
when the streetlights kick on
this is a fine piece of ground
yes whenever we cross
the despicable street
we miss the part of the song
where the chorus repeats
I dabbed at the blood on my face with a paper receipt
dogs are laughing in the yard
they never believe what you say when you say what you mean
and you act like you are
you know I want to lay down in the dark
where the ceiling fan screams
the babbling river is bubbling tar
|
released May 11, 2020
