does not always a new thought
make. how often have i been a fraud, i’m
afraid, how uninspired (is there an award for that) ?
how close to the edge do you have to be before
you notice you’re already falling ?
the day i won the lottery in Heaven
i was given the choice of an afterlifetime supply
of anything at all that my heart desired.
i didn’t much need to think: i asked, of course,
for fire.
lucid loving
i’ve requested help from
all the world’s rivers, oceans,
& beaches
to supplement this terrible
sweetness, this shot-through
barrel swiftly losing liquid
through all this loving lucid
the wetness winding into a sigh
these spiralling circles of desire
how is it to be doused
but still unbearably on fire ?
“you sure know how to make a boy feel…”
special, is what he said, before following it up with
one of the most divine things a soul could sing: you
really are very funny; & i know he’s probably humouring me…
but even then, only just
a little death
to have
oh please ! how unbearably boring. to want
is where all flowers bloom, despite this sauna
of good-feeling. what i have is safe & sound,
what i want coyly eludes me. eternal desire
plagued all the world’s poets, despite all the
world’s beauty; i want the entire room desirous,
a life of endless dreaming, half-fulfilled, omniscient,
all-yearning, all-fiending.
olive tree
if carnality is inevitable, i’m hoping
it’s lusty & not homicidal
there’s a violence going around, kind of
insidious. yet so much of what hurts us is
so obvious about itself
if i had a magic coin, i wouldn’t spend it
on diamonds or drugs. i’d throw it
down a wishing well & hope it grew
an olive tree
isabel…
after the movies, but before the train station,
we hugged goodbye. i said, see you, like i always do;
unthinking, she hummed i love you,
then gasped. the perfect casual accident.
we parted ways in blushing silence,
my shock too thick to shake. though
across percussive tracks, an engine chanted
what i couldn’t…
you too you too you too
all the way home, you too, you too.
sp4ce
Saturn, pull me into orbit
i am outer space already
touch me, watch me waterfall
drapery, the velvet curtain
puddle on the floor.
Read morepraised one
drunk off
the aura
around you
i murmured
better late
than never
replied panting
my professor
2
two-two was too satisfying. too late, it
was, & two-two too chilling at two past
two in the morning. too much wetness,
& hotness: a transgression too far gone
(twice) & a pulsing also doubly-done.
a little longer & it would’ve been two-three,
or three-two, or three-three at three &
who knows after that. i’d reached two
first, too hazy & plunging to hold back,
& hers came quickly after, too blasphemous
to handle. how to continue ? how to get
accustomed to the two-two parallel
that split me so prismatically ? i’m too
worried for my numbers, too pampered
to see a single digit ever again !
galaxy
where should boys be looking—
at the ground or at the sky?
in the hand—the talking brick—
or deep in someone else’s eyes?
should boys be polite? and
understand? atone for things—
the where & when? these boys
are halfway gone already—
should we forgive them? and again?
Read morewhatever he did in those leather pants
that night, i wish i’d been there to see it. a draught,
talcum-heavy & him vibrating those metal strings,
i’d seize the thick heat of the musical Him. i’d
marvel at the voice that would not have recognised
itself twenty years earlier—at the homebody gone
carnal piñata—among the Greek chorus of shrieking
pubescence. & of all the things to see, after everything:
the metronome, typewriter, the new-fangled colour TV,
the christmas specials, & cash grabs disguised as movies,
after the worldwide wet dreams—i’d have wanted to see
the little death that night. i would have little died & died if
i’d had a chance to see it, to see
allegiance to the lyre
can kissing
be animal ?
yesterday unearthed
me. you forbid sluice or blush—
how treacherous ! how just !
still plagued
by those whimpers, the
seed of all things ours
going freely overwhelmed—
unfinished by a patch
of flowers.
animus
an instinct. a target. don’t pray –
just listen closely – a sweetness in motion
you’re evincing the primal – so stay
you already know how we can be animal
tilt your head – not a word
& i’ll put my mouth on the pulse of the earth
lacking centre of gravity
anyone is the answer. thank
you is the question—
how to come out the other side
unscathed, clawing through cloud . . .
will i land in sweet Atlantis ? or
embed in Martian desert—
unsurprisingly, i’d give it all
to move in both directions.
omw !
Very Far Far ? Head Start Forever Away Too Much Gone Miles More Closer Getting Warmer Almost There ? In Sight Nearer Almost There Coming Approaching Right There Just Now Basically Here ! Here ! Here !
Read morewhich bit ?
that’s good, to have a bit
of control. but which bit ?
you could definitely have
your pick, i know, luxuriate
in each flit of finger or blushing
lip. now where do all these pieces
fit ? unsticking me tenderly bit by
bit. but which bit ?