the old yeller of your eyes
i haven't a single thought in my head
but a school of fish search
thru the moonlight
as though answers
were brought in
by mice
and piping
i would love to say that
its suddenly getting down to it
but like a depression
it would need to be in motion
a year or more
before its actually defined, felt, etc
stabbing at it with a broken glass pipe
stabbing a toilet
on long and mild afternoons
in which you can smell fall arriving
i turn the water off
to the house
and get an idea
right before i wake
a gigantic branch fell into the yard
so i thought while chopping at it
with a machete
and burned it high
into the neighborhood
i thought the cops might come
and be more serious than need be
i thought if nothing else
then i could be an arsonist
and set afire the terrible things
i do
first
late at nite, smoking chalk dust
we're driving worn routes
and suddenly i was there
at a red light
watching a girl on a scooter
scratching bug bite scabs at her ankles
and before it had turned green
there was blood running down
into her puma shoe
and as she sped
off the blood
blew back
like some stripe
i always think that turning 40
is gonna be it
that'll it'll be over then
and i'll have to grow my own food
and live alone
and truly embrace some sad obscurity
in which i'll be at my silent best
and i'll start talking about death
and get really good at the banjo
and saying it all
in one regionally relevant metaphor
that is somehow based on fatalism
anyhow
today a baby dragon fly
landed very well
and i burned a long slash
on my leg with a hot branch
waiting on change
at a car wash
is like being drunk backstage
at a sonic youth show
handing poetry to people who read it
think quietly to themselves
and go back to what they're doing
like i would
i suppose
i'll keep trying
watching tv
in all this loose sediment
a pallet of 20 lb bags of concrete
behind a bbq joint
look so fresh and unemployed
i just get up in the morning
wash my face
and look into the mirror
and leave
but a school of fish search
thru the moonlight
as though answers
were brought in
by mice
and piping
i would love to say that
its suddenly getting down to it
but like a depression
it would need to be in motion
a year or more
before its actually defined, felt, etc
stabbing at it with a broken glass pipe
stabbing a toilet
on long and mild afternoons
in which you can smell fall arriving
i turn the water off
to the house
and get an idea
right before i wake
a gigantic branch fell into the yard
so i thought while chopping at it
with a machete
and burned it high
into the neighborhood
i thought the cops might come
and be more serious than need be
i thought if nothing else
then i could be an arsonist
and set afire the terrible things
i do
first
late at nite, smoking chalk dust
we're driving worn routes
and suddenly i was there
at a red light
watching a girl on a scooter
scratching bug bite scabs at her ankles
and before it had turned green
there was blood running down
into her puma shoe
and as she sped
off the blood
blew back
like some stripe
i always think that turning 40
is gonna be it
that'll it'll be over then
and i'll have to grow my own food
and live alone
and truly embrace some sad obscurity
in which i'll be at my silent best
and i'll start talking about death
and get really good at the banjo
and saying it all
in one regionally relevant metaphor
that is somehow based on fatalism
anyhow
today a baby dragon fly
landed very well
and i burned a long slash
on my leg with a hot branch
waiting on change
at a car wash
is like being drunk backstage
at a sonic youth show
handing poetry to people who read it
think quietly to themselves
and go back to what they're doing
like i would
i suppose
i'll keep trying
watching tv
in all this loose sediment
a pallet of 20 lb bags of concrete
behind a bbq joint
look so fresh and unemployed
i just get up in the morning
wash my face
and look into the mirror
and leave