Imagine a beach where the waves fold into curls of
damaged brightness and white houses
Impressionistic swirls of daybreak through window screens. Noise pooled
in the divots of
My mother washing lake-water off her hands with tap water. Cold and distant
as herself on
My dreams begin in an overgrown field in Indiana fireflies spark in staccato
a diamond as big as a car.
Noise shot from a finite point. The sky steers the earth. A hand emerges
from the noise then
Raindrops hit our skin, undid the old photographs in their bellies on
the cool sand. A gull
Something justifying about this beach, this lie, this hunger of gulls
Our footsteps trailed behind us then pushed their signatures out.
Itís almost as if Iím in a place not quite a place, heaven almost. When
you turn on a lamp
Imagine Chicago. The same ejaculating fountain in the same arc and the
birds all hung with
The crayon picture you drew of the two men carrying so many rifles up
the hill they could
The EL rattles pans from cheep studios. Go back to the beach. No donít.
Dear Reader. One night when I was still becoming a man, the moon threw
down its white
and since then Iíve been shocked.
So I tried to forget. To float away. A hiss of dark liquid and Iíd join
Two lawn chairs so close theyíre kissing. Traveling cross-country I imagined
the old Volvo
In the heart of man is how he disappears, holds himself to fault and
faults, and loves the
A Cheetos bag flung against my leg outside the Arbyís and I sat down
right there and
The lake has layers of cold. Hook a leach through its head. My Bears
jacket is flimsy. Half of
The way an indoor pool opens like an orchid does with wavy blue light
on the ceiling.
Easy. The woman in the sphere with the six cycles. Easy.
In the library is a book called The Third Treasury of the Familiar
and nowhere in that book will
In the courtyard of my friendís apartment in Hollywood while reading
a book light fell on
In an abandoned Sears parking lot I found a note, it read, I wish
you were here but Iím glad youíre
So I mistook the child by weight for the phonebook. So I left the cat on ďNapĒ all day.
The cup of coffee (is)
If there are faces in the clouds theyíre cold and far away.
Tonight I stare into my blue eyes, at my ratty T-shirt, my uncut haircut,
into the moving of
Minnesota. Trees sound their alarms. I have dreams where Iím in a moving
A dog vomiting up red letters by a dead bush. No one understands a single
night of their life
A crane lifts a blue box into the blue sky. Rain makes holy static on
a lake. I had a long
Head trauma and the smell of caged crickets in a bait shop.
Iím beginning to take the correct number of drags from my cigarette before
I bend its body
For in the abdomen of a lightning bug is an old man who occasionally
drops his lantern.
but does not leave the world, not quite. Night volleyball games in summer.
You and me in
Wasp paranoia in campground restrooms. A wasp looks like an old woman
pulling a black
Pressing wet handfuls of sand through my fingers, storm Clouds pulling
apart in their tongue
The ocean looked like us all, heaved together in a dark beyond thought.
Look at me on
How do you write about failure at all?
Nobody will untie you. As the train falls over each rail and youíre jarred
to sleep. When
and wake on the same train. Hold on. Stop the poem.
We were both wearing white. The parade went by, pinwheels on fire. It
The noise from the parade rose forever.
The idea scared the shit out of me. That quite possibly the world, which
I had heretofore
might be real.
My white sheet looked clear. The Floridians brought juice and pills to
reduce the fever.
When I was sleeping the moonless blue
ocean broke off rocks. When I was sleeping
Beads of sweat on my forehead with small anchors in them.
James, me, the Greek girl with mayonnaised hair and her strangely tranquil
lap dog. Pay
I nursed my 7:00 AM beer and we watched
Your eyes were blue like a Siberian Huskyís ó Frank, that is a Siberian
Husky. Oh, but
If youíre in Toledo clap your hands, in Houston, in San Diego and clap
Half my family is from the South. Itís rumored we bleed in the shape
I hear the echo rolling across the fields and down to the river. A noise,
a cloud of blood
If there was music in your life, on that beach, if the
wind worked the sand into loops before
When I came home I expected to see snow, for things to be covered, for
my age the passing
Baby trains cry in the distance.
Goldenrod bent to forward slashes. Sparrows thrown like handfuls of mud
from one power
Dick slow dancing with your right hand again?
Iíll give you another option in a black cloak with a sickle, with a pension
for chess who fogs
The plane high above its cold comets tail. It could be the first plane.
Leaves blown into large
The old brown dog in the industrial lot howls along with the sirens from
a distant police car
Youíll have children and theyíll seem too heavy even at birth to carry
the weight of birth.
Leaning closer and closer
what is foreign
Iíd think someone had shot the stars
As if you were moving into the past leaves un-pile across the yard, back-flip
through the air
Frost weighing down the blades of grass. A giant American flag over an outlet mall.
Reflected on my glasses, images of things starving and cold, high tension
wires hiss and
Who would love you if they knew that only something more refined remembers?
Sirens sound on this half of the city but nobody will turn out the lights
in the other, though
We stood in the center of my room, each light from the small mirror ball
was a ring of
The way months halo around a babyís brain and darken the edges until
twenty years later she
A few old trailers sunk into the sides of hills.
Itís not easy to believe the world is real. A significant relationship
problem: canít commit
Strange the silence without the roar of cars and trains and planes, mating
and fighting cats
Wonít I look funny then, wonít I be difficult to rob, to stab? Sometimes
when Iím sleeping I
Imagine a beach, someplace in your memory hazy enough for meaning, blurred
Leaning closer and closer
But you have something to do
We were sixteen and pulled off on Southport Road because our song came
on. It comes on
Every time I think of that scene more appears, one more shadow of a raindrop
on the dash,
One day, and this hurts to talk about, while waling through the long
practice field to high
And I opened. And for the first time I knew Iíd never be myself again.
When we pulled off the road to kiss when our song came on, the sun was
pulled under the
The windshield began to fog, I put my mouth to yours to move it into
the shape of what I
In the great big book they keep somewhere up there and write it all down
in shorthand the
That night in the car I lost the world.
Many years have passed since that night. And Iíve learned a rhythm to
my days. That waking
God help me and forgive me. I was there and I wasnít there. Forgive me
I was there and I
Forgive the movement and the co-pilot and the flying. Forgive who turned
up the volume of
of white seeds came down over the polished hoods of new Mercedes by Central
that when I pray I whisper, so no one but You can hear me, for at times
when I lace my
for another world,