off the L

2008-05-14T09:58:00.001-05:00

you went to the post
office on tuesday to
estimate the number of
stamps it would take
to bring out all the
crazies. waiting in
a nine yard line, you
weighed the clever
dose of extra
patience injected
into the service system
since the one-cent-
increase went into
effect. you calculated
the exact difference
between the volume
coming from the
confusion and that of
the faithful postman.
the line squirmed, and
you stepped up to receive
your holy penny
.
20080514:0959
y

2008-05-12T16:07:00.000-05:00

it’s past four a.m., and the family
of seven is out on the front
stoop, firing up
the same broken
pieces again. it’s a no-brainer –
they will end up calling
the police on each other
and the hoarse
lady of the house will be held
accountable during the final
showdown. amidst wailing
arrests, her four daughters
will not balk, and the youngest
toddler will hold tightly
to a free hand and learn –
here starts the sirens
.
20080511:0444
y

2008-05-07T16:02:00.000-05:00

.
20080507:1700
y

2008-05-06T15:47:00.000-05:00

.
20080506:1647
y

2008-05-05T15:57:00.000-05:00

in the packed train this
morning, you – young
thing – had a seat, bent
scribbling in long hand
and covering the words
as you went. i stood
over you and held on
to your transpiring
admission of love and
having-never-felt-this-
out-of-control-before

due to an earlier incident,
a fifteen-minute-ride turned
into forty-five as i stood
cramped and aging

for you, on the other hand,
forty-five turned into fifteen
seconds – with the train doors
sliding open at union square
and you jumping up and out
before finishing your
epic confession

and years later, only i
will remember what you felt
because you started your
smoke signals with
please destroy – out of
embarrassment
.
20080505:1645
y

2008-05-02T15:18:00.001-05:00

i know you see them
they add up
not just one or two
sitting by an old wooden
post as you say but
hundreds of thousands
cornered

their families are split –
half of the children with
the other half without
papers; there are less
and less happy
reunions; and these days
the stakes are raised
higher, like the fence
upon which only
ignorance rests
judging comfortably
.
20080502:1611
y

2008-05-01T16:02:00.001-05:00

.
20080501:1700
y

2008-04-30T15:42:00.001-05:00

fear of flying, part 4
.
in a period when an economic
stimulus plan is fingering
the six hundred expendable
dollars in your pocket
it is only fitting
to find out midflight
that the airline has filed
for bankruptcy, has been
bought by a competitor, or
has announced a merger
halfway between
pouring the first cup
of cream and the last
pack of sugar
.
20080415:2347
y

2008-04-29T12:13:00.000-05:00

starting monday, the i.r.s.
will begin lining our bank
accounts with a glitter that
no bear can rub off

starting monday, america
will once again graduate
at the top of her class, this time
without leaving carnage

starting monday, bush
will use the word
“recession” like a dandelion
puff, just under pursed lips

it’s monday
.
20080425:1702
y

2008-04-28T16:08:00.001-05:00

april crushing –
trading furtive glimpses
through a calculated
slice of doorway
.
20080412:1921
y

2008-04-25T13:24:00.001-05:00

things often end
when you realize that
some things never
end, and there is
no longer an ache
to hold hands and wait
.
20080425:1442
y

2008-04-24T16:01:00.002-05:00

i try to thin down
this image of me
built up by your
appointed distance
measured
in degrees
of safety

i try to thin down
this need
for our fingers
to crisscross
as though it takes two
to hide anything
worth hiding

i try to thin down
this growing solitude –
the one that enjoys
whittling down all of
the rest, the one that holds
a magic mirror
to my everyday face
.
20080422:1723
y

2008-04-23T16:03:00.001-05:00

it sounded like rain this morning
with the sun stalled
behind six or eight
wheels of a galumphing
garbage truck.
braking every two
seconds, one can almost
smell the wet tires
pressing rain into burnt
waffles across an asphalt
belt. something got jammed
in the door and dragged
for three yards before i noticed
a splash of torn
in its rearview mirror –
the fabric of my tattered sleep
.
20080404:0809
y

2008-04-22T15:33:00.001-05:00

wanted
.
in front of the gazebo entrance
at union square station
black, green, and red, i stood
like a flag in the wind
at half-mast, until you
tunneled-visioned me
from five long-legged
strides away, eyes holding
3...2...1..
and passing –
leaving me in the wake
of a faint smile.
that was fiftyfour minutes
ago...fiftyfive, fiftysix
you looked like a writer
or superman
on clark kent mode
in which case, this is where
we may start falling
if you like that kind of stuff
.
20080403:1853
y

2008-04-21T15:55:00.000-05:00

(for t)

you have let
the tulips
dry
so perfectly –
like wild grass
with their phosphorus
tulip heads a heavy
crimson, over muted
bodies, a lighter shade
of neglect –
resembling twisted
matchsticks
rearranging themselves
in your innocent
beer stein
.
20080409:1146
y

2008-04-09T11:22:00.000-05:00

you are back from a fourth
combat tour in Baghdad

i don’t know why
they call it a tour, you said

it’s feeling more and more
like football –
only with guns
.
20080408:2246
y

2008-04-08T16:35:00.001-05:00

(for billie holiday)

billie holiday sat just
beyond the burning
horizon for six,
maybe seven, years
stringing her vocal cords
across a cheery red
spincasting rod,
swinging the line
forever into the dark
in the hopes of
nabbing this panfish.

then finally, on a
yet-to-be-shaped
morning, with unnamed
sorrow in my heart,
billie’s line caught
and – after carrying a long
hard song into the rippling
darkness – she knew
this one was for keeps
.
20080407:2147
y

2008-04-07T16:35:00.001-05:00

with whiskey on my
tongue, a souvenir of your
johnnie walker smile
.
20080405:2330
y

2008-04-03T14:58:00.000-05:00

morning remedy
.
on my fifth bag of frozen
berries wrapped in a wet
towel, Vladimir started
on the Schumann Träumerei –
a tough rival to overtake
when it comes down to
the magic of lulling
one swollen eyelid
to go down quietly
while the other stands
mesmerized
like an older child
defeating curfew
for the very first time
.
20080402:1058
y

2008-04-01T16:26:00.001-05:00

(for Rachmaninoff)

on your birthday, i imagine
four very fragile
but still lovely
hands finally
breaking in
the two very new
Steinways Horowitz brought
as gifts overnight –
oh, how he
rolled them in so
loudly, both wrapped
in clear crinkly paper
like two bouquets
so that you could not
detect the singing
strings pulled
in breathless suspense
weighing upon the wheels –
and how they burn
now, hands and strings,
as concertos are swallowed
whole, once again,
inches above the reflection
of New York City
.
20080401:1712
y

2008-03-31T15:23:00.002-05:00

(for octavio paz)

loneliness comes
as an acquired taste

after years of being
force-fed its cure

your bones
would have been
ninety-four today
celebrating the fascination
of your aging body
el laberinto de la soledad
in its cancerous entirety
.
20080331:1615
y

2008-03-28T15:43:00.001-05:00

not letting go of daylight savings
.
sparing the moment’s defining details
we can conceivably wiggle out
from underneath the universe’s
sudden heaviness
if we turn the clock
one whole hour forward just one minute
before your mother wakes us up
to share the grave news

time travel is often complicated like that

we are not equipped
and never prepared
to leave anyone behind
.
20080313:2359
y

2008-03-27T11:04:00.001-05:00

the sound
of snow repeatedly
pressed
like a panini, with toasted
tracks left in the wake
of succulent
steps –

the thought
of grandma
finally being able
to afford
a new set of
teeth
at seventy-nine –

the look
on the new barber’s face
down in the
hole-in-the-wall
as he received
his one-hundred-percent
tip –

the bowl
of congee
waiting at the end
of the day, hot
with scallion
pearls and roasted
peanuts –

the magic
of you
stopping time on the train
tuesday morning
suspending the count-
down to tardiness
with a look
.
20080326:2203
y

2008-03-26T10:59:00.001-05:00

beneath the shadow
of the manhattan bridge
then the brooklyn
we alternated strips of sky
and brick, tossing
train noises with a
seasoned wind
.
20080323:2129
y

2008-03-25T13:47:00.001-05:00

your name still rattles
like loose hinges in search of
a sturdy doorway
.
20080322:2252
y

2008-03-24T14:52:00.001-05:00

after a circus, there is nothing
that beats
the cotton-candy
sweetness
of your mouth, blue
over pink,
imagination over pure
substance

i am putting my hands
where you can see them

i am solving your mouth
with only my mouth
.
20080321:1656
y

2008-03-21T12:37:00.001-05:00

the first breath of Spring
arrived today on our front
door steps. someone wrote
to say he was coming, but
we hardly expected to see
this young child
pulling on a lever
attached to a kaleidoscopic
pressure machine
cheerfully tipping it into
the greatest number
of colliding mirrors
.
20080320:2337
y

2008-03-20T16:26:00.001-05:00

it’s one of those meeting-John-Darnielle-
in-a-New-York-City-burger-joint-with-a-
strawberry-shake-in-one-hand-and-
fries-stained-fingers-on-the-other
moments –

when you have to let go
of your cheeseburger and offer
greasy lips as your last resort
smile, while he hangs by the swinging
door, trying to forget that he had pretended
your name was easy to remember

and he’s coffee, and you’re
milkshake, both heading
straight to hell
in a lincoln continental
where he will certainly refuse
to serve golden boy peanuts

and then we remember that
there is breathing involved
and we open
once again
to let the impossible
in
.
20080319:1625
y

2008-03-19T14:25:00.000-05:00

not understanding death
in the midst of a return
to Spring and daylight savings
we tie a rope around our waists
anchored forwards
while slipping
backwards, one minute at a
time, trying to find where
we left you, hoping and resting
against steep stony passages
that you are not locked
treading the spaces between
unfelt milliseconds, cells caught
in the strands of unshakeable time
.
20080314:1139
y

2008-03-18T09:28:00.001-05:00

want to start a farm?
he asks.

you mean quitting our jobs
and taking day trips to the outskirts
of the city to flex and bend
underneath unfractured sunlight,
soak in fresh soil and coax
a plot of earth to carry to term
the fruits of our labor, with crisp
air between our teeth?

i just want to grow strawberries
on our roof, he replies.
.
20080318:1007
y

2008-03-17T15:14:00.000-05:00

it has not been the first time Lhasa
was strewn with sick and powerless
khatas. just as from a thousand
miles away, Rangoon carried
abandoned sandals like a lost
mother, with tear gas in her
autumn eyes –
the square here today lies
pallid underneath a sea of
cotton and silk
at once meaningless
in their untimely sacrifice
.
20080314:1418
y

2008-03-14T09:15:00.000-05:00

the affairs of the very rich and the very
poor and some in between are bound to
make headlines

because an unforgettable scandal
is bound to be a forgettable
footnote if we don’t stop to remember
and cash-in on them today

because there are wars that cannot be
undone so we might as well concentrate
on those who will live to see another
day instead of those who are dying
on page four
.
20080313:1539
y

2008-03-13T11:06:00.000-05:00

every morning, before the break
of dawn, after he gets up or she
gets up to use the toilet and returns,
they refresh each other like math
rounding to the nearest integer
legs, into one
arms, into two
then multiply each sleeping
heartbeat within the safety
of matrices, adding and
subtracting each other until
they are lulled back
into hushed reciprocals
.
20080312:1736
y

2008-03-12T16:23:00.002-05:00

the first time they give you
a real pen – not the eraser pens
that manage to breed bigger
messes – but a real pen…the first time
they give you one of those
they tell you to draw
only one line through the future
mistakes, that there is no more
going back for you.

the first time they give you
a real pen, they ask for 250-words-
or-less essays to calculate
a moment, describe a point-of-view,
a favorite childhood memory
in blue or black, cursive,
double-spaced, because there is
no more going back for you.

by the time they give you
your first real pen, they will have
forgotten how you graduated into
sharpened pencils – by letting go
of 72 durable markers, 24
melting crayons, and 12 pods
of permanent paint - and there is
no going back for you
.
20080311:1618
y

2008-03-11T13:32:00.000-05:00

yesterday, i used the deleted hour
as wisely as though i had scaled to the top
of a slippery cliff and consulted
a master yogi, as if i had shuffled the stars
and mapped out a new constellation
that spoke to me only in clear harmonic tones,
as though i had found out you just
left this world and i could rub out this hour
as if no one delivered the news
.
20080310:2124
y

2008-03-10T15:18:00.001-05:00

we suck romance out of
a bottle like it is the best soda pop
ever and only sold chilled
from a faceless man
with a dull metallic
cart and a sign that shouts
here today, gone tomorrow.

half a dozen empty bottles
later, we toss them into a Hefty
bag, place them out on the curb
and hide behind closed
curtains, waiting to see who
would come to recycle them
.
20080302:0143
y

2008-03-07T16:29:00.001-05:00

it’s one of those meeting-John-Darnielle-
in-a-New-York-City-airport-seventy-
three-paces-to-the-security-gate
moments –

when you both have to let go
of your luggage to really
see each other, and he’s
coffee, and you’re water, both heading
south where the white magnolias
grow –

and this moment is so unlike
that moment, but for the feeling
of uncontainment, heads
already up there in the carolina
skies, tails
still tied to the tip of
a promising runway

and then we remember that
there is breathing involved
and we open
all at once
to let the impossible
in
.
20080306:1249
y

2008-03-06T10:01:00.001-05:00

maybe it begins like this –
a look that is not a look
something more
like
a preface to a look

you were extracting yourself out
from the crowd – slicing
a moment into this
moment

hope is a strange thing –
when you push out your
chest a little more, it flushes
in to sort out these untested
fleshier regions
where wings reside
.
20080305:2251
y

2008-03-05T09:57:00.001-05:00

we are dragons

still tethered
to sheep

back in the day before
the dog made its eleventh
hour appearance
just ahead of the boar

back in the day when
our teeth were carefully
dulled, our snout
strapped –

our roars were shaped
only to follow.

we never scorched

never exercised our
wings

and above all

we never let out the dragon
fueling our dragon hearts
.
20080304:2026
y

2008-03-04T17:09:00.001-05:00

i watched the train pull
into the station across
the brilliant reflection
in your shoe, each car
curling around that leathery
black shine over your coolly
uncurled toes. when the
doors finally slid open
you stepped through
and the train turned neatly
inside out, spilling its
passengers like a prism
to pierce that stratum
of polish and swagger
.
20080229:1649
y

2008-03-03T18:01:00.000-05:00

in dimly lit spaces, the piano
is a train whistling unevenly
across a sloping stage blowing

up, up, and up the crinkling
wings of beethoven
and bartók – the only two
choices left
within these numb
fingers when drowning
in an endless pit of freshly
polished apples. in dimly
lit spaces, the piano is a train
whistling is a wound bleeding
is a cast iron radiator tiptoeing
nearest the asylum of
a north-facing brick wall

with her rusty skirt grazing
at minor third intervals
across all that city snow
.
20080228:1538
y

2008-02-29T10:10:00.001-05:00

the closer to the deceased
the more death becomes
an inconvenience – that is,
which train am i taking?
does my suit still fit? when
is the funeral? where
are my black dress shoes? who
hasn’t been notified?

the more death becomes
an inconvenience, the less we have
to open our eyes widely
towards the emptiness that is still
a faint lingering of our
beloved who can no longer
share in these softest of
laments – who, what, when
and where – but lie
down with us each time
we press our heads against why
and catch our tongues
perpetually blistering on how
.
20080228:1653
y

2008-02-28T11:11:00.001-05:00

you are better than the movies, better
than the serenading warmth of
a darkened theater, better than
the wounded seats always leaning over

to caress, better than the sweet nothings
melting on tongues, better than light
dancing and plunging into bouquets

bearing lovers and warriors
to their most secret
meeting places, and far

far better

than the stories that brush up
against us
at their very end
while we have only
just begun
.
20080227:2308
y

2008-02-27T17:05:00.000-05:00

you capture me like the cool
evening rain, unforecasted
nevertheless
a continuous fallen and falling –

where eight blocks
in this city can take
forever, but eighty blocks
just disappear

and soaked right through
means never having to wash
.
20080226:2329
y

2008-02-26T16:35:00.001-05:00

you are skinning a pork shoulder
in your sink as i recall the smooth
pinkness of the piglets shared in
biology lab and the snip snip of those
sharply unsterile scissors. i stand
beside you and watch for less
than a terrifying minute.

you are pulling juicy chunks
of shredded meat out onto a smooth
plate as i recall the twistingly
tangy aroma under the williamsburg
bridge that sunday afternoon. i stand
beside you and watch and
sample and taste the music glistening
.
20080225:1544
y

2008-02-25T17:45:00.001-05:00

tonight i have one hand covered
in bandaids, the other restlessly
waiting for a signal to unlock
the door, turn the knob, reach out
to awaken that face
melting the day’s unflinching
snow. tonight i am the hours
to your minutes, carefully
wrapping and unwrapping
a bouquet of excuses
without an unbroken hand
to steady the seconds
.
20080222:2150
y

2008-02-22T16:55:00.000-05:00

a dry eye is bravery
blinking a morse code signal –
three short, three long,
three short – my father
taught me this and even
now, i can hear his silvery
dits and dahs demonstrating
this subtle manipulation
of distress

i’m hiding in the bathroom
i haven’t used anything else
.
20080221:1735
y

2008-02-20T12:09:00.000-05:00

given that we are built
to survive,
there are clearly
not enough
wars to wrap around this
tilted earth, simply not enough
strife to spread
across jilted generations.

these halfhearted attempts
are embarrassing
at best.

come on and gear up,
children, there’s a call
to arms, and you have got to
latch onto your best
childhood venom
because the bigotry
begins with you
.
20080219:1548
y

2008-02-19T15:00:00.000-05:00

i’ve got to say, you don’t really...

are we going to have this conversation
between 3rd Avenue and Union Square?

she tries to take his free hand as the train unlocks its brakes

but i haven’t brought it up all week

he pulls his hand back

were you saving it till now?

the train jerks into the bend
they hang on to the rails
a diverted response
.
20080219:1452
y

2008-02-18T23:03:00.001-05:00

with cold knees and colder
feet, she still stands broken
at parties, reluctantly interlaced
into roomfuls of dispensable
dialogue, vacuous gazes –
wondering if tonight was
another attempt to endorse
or defy darwin. her hand grips
an empty party cup, orange
pulp drying the better parts
of her conversation
.
20080218:1608
y

2008-02-15T12:49:00.001-05:00

the living takes over
after the dying expires –
suddenly, sharing that
moment and dishing
a final, home-cooked meal
out of those memories
matter less than whether
that china-set was offered
to you in the first place
twenty years ago. and
breaking down the house
into for-keeps and sellable
parts only expedites the
loss, now merely an abstract
casualty, stuffed for the
second, third, or fourth time
into an unrecoverable box
.
20080215:1238
y

2008-02-14T10:08:00.000-05:00

(for j, because of p)

every couple of months, you
call and ask me to help you move
some furniture around in your
house, starting with the bed.
you say you just can’t get to
sleep anymore surrounded
by all these corners and
varying degrees of nearly right
angles. with the phone in
one hand, a bottle of Jägermeister
sticking frozen to the other
you say please,
please come – i feel i’m getting
closer to the truth this time.
and as your life-long girlfriend
with the perpetually
convenient back problem sits
decorating wallflowers
against the kitchen counter, we
move the bed, the dresser,
the lamp, the couch,
the television stand, and
on and on, until those spirits
haunting you cannot recognize
this as home anymore. but
you were the one who made
the pact with the devil, and
after a month or two, it’s just
going to be the same thing again
.
20080213:1140
y

2008-02-13T10:24:00.001-05:00

some of us lean
on this war hard,
lean on it like the outcome
will determine something
closer to the course
for the living
rather than
for all this dying

some of us lean
into the back of this
war casually,
like lounging in
a wicker chair
cushioned for
the blind

for all the time we lean
into this
we will find
no comfort,
for all the time we lean
into our solution
the problem will find a way
to elude us
.
20080212:2107
y

2008-02-12T10:36:00.000-05:00

it has now become standard
operating procedure
to include a screwdriver,
a paperclip,
and a lock for practice
within every major
holiday exchange – each
lock proudly graduating
to one more
pin in the tumbler.
never have we become
so diligent
in mapping
out every escape
route to find no real
need for entrances.
.
20080127:1411
y

2008-02-11T13:24:00.000-05:00

In this world of hierarchies,
I guess we all need something beneath us.
– Jonathan Mooney, The Short Bus

almost american
.
you can’t coax an orange to grow
the way you can a migrant worker to
climb two stories into a tree of
thorns, atop a ladder nestled in
insecurity. you can also convince
him to stay up there until he picks
a nearest full ninety-nine-
pound sack, and then you can press him
into repeating himself sixty, seventy,
or eighty times – depending
on the fairness of
sky – and by nightfall
you can stuff forty-nine
dollars into his pocket and one
juicy orange into each of ours
.
20080208:1212
y

john bowe excerpt

2008-02-08T10:43:00.000-05:00

the problem with having too much
space in the morning
to air your thoughts
is that you have to have more
thoughts. this is
as natural and irrefutable
as folding bedsheets
at eight a.m. alone
only to unfurl them
at eight p.m., still
alone, with barely
a clap of fabric
to acknowledge the latitude
.
20080208:1017
y

2008-02-07T09:59:00.000-05:00

on discovering symmetry
even in atrocity: children
are still being encouraged
to find themselves
out on a war-torn land.
meanwhile, the ladies
who lunch are welcomed
to lose themselves
nibbling on their tax cuts
.
20080204:1346
y

2008-02-06T09:42:00.001-05:00

you are talking about
the economy again
in relation to the
frequency of ringing
from the bell next door.
you say ever since
the market has turned
from bull to bear, the man
opens that pawnshop
with a whistle and
walks away with
another fender
.
20080205:2041
y

2008-02-05T08:02:00.000-05:00

sunday morning, someone has
inadvertently buzzed them
into the building again. and
here comes the fierce
knocking. there are at least
two of them, a man
and a woman – working
separately in their knocking,
together in their preaching.
there is a slight problem
in their logic, but they have yet
to catch on, they are spreading
an impatient religion.

this time, though, the hook
was miraculous: did you know
that there has been
a number of recent, high crimes
against women living
in brooklyn?

oh, really? i question, innocently

we think it is wrong for men
to abuse women…

even if she was an itch in his rib? i asked

..which is why you should desire
a loving relationship
with jesus christ…they continue

oh, he’s not from brooklyn?

do you have a moment to hear
about this wonderful man? they smile
serious smiles

did you know that there has been
a number of recent, high crimes
against women living in brooklyn?
i’ve really got to go.
.
20080204:2143
y

2008-02-04T13:22:00.001-05:00

inside this
war are other wars.
at this moment
they are only
discriminate
seedlings, waiting
for the right
moment to breathe
life into
solidarity.
at that
moment, they are perfect
models for mosaic
behavior: an arm here
a leg there, a near
meaningless betrayal
into terminally
sealed fates
.
20080204:1314
y

2008-02-01T13:05:00.001-05:00

(for richard brautigan, two days after your birthday)

the year i turned eight, they
discovered your body’s month-old
decay building alliances in the living
room. for forty-nine years, you were
fighting against known spirits
equipped with only expectations
and no other
armaments against the everyday
battles. when they finally found you –
you had at last armed yourself by becoming
one with the gun
and you left a stain
wet enough
to dry out all the troutfishing
waters of America
.
20080201:1257
y

2008-01-31T12:10:00.001-05:00

the moment you said the words
we don’t cry
as though you were still
her eyes, and she were merely
the beats flowing soundly
from your heart, the spell
was lifted, all advancement
of devoted troops
halted, each bygone evening
became
a loose page, let go
into an asymmetric dawn
.
20080131:1156

2008-01-30T11:37:00.000-05:00

(for our grandparents)

we are finally at an age
when we will have known intimately
this newest generation to be buried.
during the last set of mass departures,
we tended to be sleeping warmly
in bellies or crying unabashedly in the soft
light of candles and the vastness of echoing
chambers. the greats, as we called them,
were only truly great in someone else’s
memory – we barely got to clasp
onto their warm, leathery hands –
but we have been privy
to their journeys like following a familiar
bell tolling incessantly in the mist.

now this new generation beckons us:
we have drank from their bowls, picked
from their plates, found respite in their
laps and safety within their arms –
at every curve in the road and with
each shifting wall, they have been
a part of our journey.
the day is clear
but their eyes grow misty.
we hold their leathery hands, wondering
when they had the time to turn.
and through all these last moments
our hearts are tolling madly.
the familiarity is yet too close
.
20080128:2150
y

2008-01-29T14:08:00.001-05:00

(on the anniversary of the Space Shuttle Challenger disaster)

someone was handing out
Weekly Readers with
the lead story highlighting
those timeless brown curls,
someone was counting down
t minus ten, someone was turning
the t.v. to meet our faces, hearts
lifting off
with the first teacher
to go into space, palms glued
to our desks, caressing her face…

someone was crying
someone turned off the t.v.
someone said, “please
remain in your seats.”
and we all looked down
to meet the same face looking up
from our desks – burned
within 73 seconds into
unguarded eyes – and now
an image always
accompanied by
someone else’s voice-overs
.
20080128:1659
y

2008-01-28T09:46:00.000-05:00

i can tell by the sound of your
voice
i am no longer the knot
at the end of your
rope.
and that is a good
thing – not to be the one
hanging onto the only dance
card for miles.
let me at least fold up
these excuses
as you lead the way
out.
there is no
point in wasting
time – the floor is getting
slippery, and there is already
one too many
drinks spilt here
.
20080127:0226
y

2008-01-25T12:45:00.001-05:00

you must have been so happy
to finally
go, your heart swelled
into the technically rare,
if not routinely
proverbial, explosion - a release
of catastrophically
softening
petals, red in its latest
awakening.

through our newly
microscopic pain, you have
captured us - some
with our tear-linked
stalactite, growing more
fragile in its prolonged
restraint, others
numb in preparation
for tomorrow
and tomorrow

and tomorrow
no longer granting
your eyes
to watch us grow
no longer granting
our tongue
to taste your death
we sleep uneasily tonight
building dripstones
to line our dreams
.
20080122:1644
y

2008-01-24T13:17:00.000-05:00

when we were young, we paid
the rarest
attention to fallen
band-aids and shifting
memories. we invaded
craftiness and invented fledgling
desires, heaping each and every
experience haphazardly
onto our ancestor’s
rusty scale, juxtaposed
by a blind but deliberate
thumb. we often leaned towards
the sun while propositioning
the moon. and though we have always
been young, back then,
we were preservation young
.
20080122:1607
y

2008-01-23T13:03:00.000-05:00

in the space of two days
.
in the space of two days
or two months, you can encounter
two contrasting species – one
adopted into a mouthful of
silver spoons, the other drowning
in a mouthful of lead – neither of
which have mastered the opposable
thumb, one entirely bedazzled
with links and medals, the
other hypnotizingly entire
with chains and locks, both
hoping to inspire angry
neighbors to knock the
walls down and find you,
peeled layers and sweat,
unclenching from the exhaust
.
20080115:1655
y

2008-01-22T11:03:00.001-05:00

it takes more than
one knee –
or getting down
on it, rather
– for you to
put your hands up
in the air, deciding
that it would be more
honest to be two
instead of one.
calculations aside,
we have experimented
with the flight and
in a continuing effort
to sprout
wings, we realized
something impossible
was only something
missing
.
20080111:1511
y

2008-01-18T16:24:00.001-05:00

on the deep
end you can
dive into countless
postures, make
elaborate gestures
that would be
considered
risky or even
dangerous
on the shallow
end. and so it was
that you
led me to why
my toes have yet
to touch
bottom and my
arms are now set
free, with your glistening
smile the only
banister to reach
.
20080116:1406
y

2008-01-17T09:41:00.001-05:00

by the end of the night, towards
a whisper, my mouth full
of yes, you still
dreaming in neon, high
voltage – i’ve let
go, and you
haven’t even noticed.
it has become more
than just using
me to advertise your
authority, bending the most
fragile parts to enter
and excite in the burn.
in spite of
the current, i’ll do
every shape, just don’t
expect me to glow
while caving in
.
20080116:1751
y

2008-01-16T15:06:00.001-05:00

during the times when
you feel more
pain than i can feel
anything else, i will
remind myself to step
out of bed, put
toothpaste on the
brush, tie both
locks to my
shoelaces after closing
behind the door me…

to step out
and into
the center of your
gravity – a reminder
to unbutton
towards the slip
.
20080115:1552
y

2008-01-15T14:54:00.000-05:00

on solid days, i would like to
with cold fingers unravel
the addiction in your
knees, the ticking within
your solitude, the code
to lift those
lips. on liquid days, it takes
only one finger stirring
your solvent dreams
to dissolve my fears
.
20080110:1731
y

2008-01-14T15:24:00.001-05:00

twentytwo nights tinged
with intertwining vibrations -
the radiator's unsteady
hack, your lips pulling
at silent smoke, wind
hugging glass, skin gripping
sweat, staring vacantly
out the windshield,
wiping it down
with only snake puddles
to follow you home
.
20080102:1712
y

2008-01-11T13:17:00.001-05:00

(for j)

the same way you can feel it
in your raw knees
before December's first storm
hits, i cower with my
singing wrists by sunrise, hoping
for a softer landing

the same way i inhale
a breath of solid winter
bound by the toughest pine, you
exhale the longest hint
of Spring, tapping out the unknowable
shapes of my bent heartbeats
.
20071217:2337
y

2008-01-10T16:02:00.000-05:00

after all these years, there is
still something lost in the way
we approach each other, pulses
unravelling in search of the
stablest equation
.
20071216:2100
y

2008-01-09T15:28:00.000-05:00

five times out of six
it only takes
one fanatic
to convince a bushel
of believers
out of their voluminous
beliefs, and that
is the fortunate
state
of irresponsible
religion these days
.
20080103:1216
y

2008-01-07T13:33:00.001-05:00

(to d)

it is
a silky immersion
to wind around the still
wet edges of your voice, trying
to put a finger
on the Vltava, following
the river through Prague’s
red-roof desires –
as though tracing
a map back
into the forest
could reveal where we first
strung our harps
.
20080107:1305
y

2007-12-10T16:37:00.001-05:00

on a tardy
meteor, silver
in its debris, R.E.M.
escaping, seeping
in a fourteen hour
trail, you
arrived, wings
unfurled, one
lone crane, knowing
you will not stay
.
20071209:2255
y

2007-12-05T17:49:00.001-05:00

(to d)

you whispered
brautigan on an afternoon
a little like this, warm
sun rubbing against
the window, you –
consistently hard
on the outside, loose
ends within. and even
now, my hands are
inadequate, too small
to hang on to my own
while reaching
over the millennium
to tie yours, but there
is still enough here
to mention:
finally, i found
him this afternoon
and he held me
together – long enough
to reach
out and touch
those eyes
understanding
how high
.
20071204:1648
y

2007-11-30T15:31:00.001-05:00

you keep a tally on
the wall above the
headboard of who
is on top, and when
i am getting too much
ahead, you rearrange
the names and somehow
that makes it even –
past midnight, we always
find too much sense in your
reasoning, when i am
a drunk, and you
are the lone bartender
lassoing my thirst
.
20071129:0008
y

2007-11-29T11:12:00.001-05:00

when your father said
don’t get your heart
stolen, you ran out
onto the beach, eyes weighing
the sky, and you called to ask me
if there were a place
in my big city
to dream, understanding
that in a perfect world, you could
pick up that coral and be
with me, like listening
for the ocean, sleeping
in my mouth
.
20071128:1710
y

2007-11-21T17:57:00.000-05:00

running around like a chicken with its head cut off...
.
20071121:1757
y

2007-11-20T12:46:00.001-05:00

with a bouquet of
history in one hand
a fading hourglass
in the other, you try
to convince
me that when we are
together, we become more
of who we already are
apart, but the torn
pages have
leaked and the years
have changed colors
on twisted vines
i have bound
my life, and those pages
have never belonged in here
.
20071119:2101
y

2007-11-19T14:13:00.000-05:00

on the warmest november
night, the saddest thing
i have ever
heard was wrapped
in your happiness
when you nearly
whispered
after five years, “i can
become human again,”
as if you were
a trapped dragon
enclosed in your
steeliest suit
armored against
hope’s slippery face
waiting to tip into flight
.
20071114:1515
y

2007-11-16T13:02:00.001-05:00

five years before the divorce, they were
debating daily over who would pick up
the children when and where
each pushing
the task to the other, wondering
how they have grown
so tired all at once
always one argument away
from finally collapsing.

one year before the separation
they tried losing
every angle, disappearing in
overtime for hours to avoid
confrontation. they picked up
and dropped off the children like
clockwork, taking turns civilly.
they have long found excuses
to sleep in separate beds.

six months before the divorce, they were
debating daily over who would pick up
the children when and where
each claiming
their parental devotion, wondering
how much they have grown
worrying how much more
room they could grow apart and
away from their separating hearts.

one year after the divorce, they noticed the sun
still rose from the east
.
20071114:2041
y

2007-11-15T12:21:00.000-05:00

(four for shw)

on hearing the news
of your impending
death, i am sick
to my stomach, allowing
an evening of confirmation
to travel cross-country
as i toss
and turn and awaken
to the finality
and it is finally
time for grief, you –
emptied of sickness
and we – refilling
of approved loss
.
20071007:1713

for everyone there comes
that day
when we will be carried
down
one flight, two flights, even
six flights of stairs
out of our homes and
into
the sun
yet
sunless, bodies
no longer
lives
.
20071010:1126

when everything works, we do not
question and rarely
wonder at the absurdity
of how, when
they unveiled your
liver and discovered
the most barbaric
decaying, we look
to our misshapened
hearts and reconfirm
our most secret
desires to continue
beating, waking
knocking our knuckles
against all closed
doors and keeping
the perpetually opening one
closed
.
20071010:1617

upturning death and
you, a deafening sorrow
summer’s ending shroud
.
20071010:1701
y

2007-11-14T11:27:00.001-05:00

remembering how this feels...

compromising music
.
drying white men in suits
and ties with their white
arm-toting wives support
music on the side like the
butter, the sauce, the sprig
of leaf atop the dessert
i’ve shook hands with all
of them i can’t wash away
one guy’s oil fields enough
and another lady’s rings
and the firmness of my
hypocrisy and i’m sorry
for running to you unclean
.
19970416:0221
y

2007-11-13T16:00:00.001-05:00

tonight, it took five
policemen to take you
away, hopeless
hands
cuffed behind your back
long, black
hair still teasing
your face as you
cried
all the way
down
these stairs, across the
saddest hallway, echoing
your por favors
and down
the front stoop
where silent blue
lights have stirred a
hundred pairs of sleepy
eyes through city windows
to play witness
on the warmest night
of your arrest, when
summer is putting up
her last fight and in
every way, you
have just lost
.
20070921:2310
y

2007-11-12T14:55:00.000-05:00

you say i must be
a clandestine
track star
because i want to
stop and go with you
all the time, and i am
taking a real good look
at you - still
crazy after all these
years - wondering how
it seems
that we are only
meeting again
for the very first time
.
20071107:1605
y

2007-11-09T11:41:00.001-05:00

good fences hold
good lies – everything, but
promises, and as you fortify
the circle keeping us
safer, you cradle our
dreams, an accidental
suffocation – and when
we look
up, we see the closest
semblance to prison
a well of a sky
.
20071106:1406
y

2007-11-08T16:20:00.000-05:00

(for b, a stolen memory)

after nineteen years, it is still
a mystery
whether Grandpa
or the Atlanta Braves
kept better time
across those long, warm
nights, ushered in by a bowl
of strawberries cooling
in Grandma’s whipped cream

like clockwork
between the 3rd
and 6th innings, i would be
rooting for Dale
alone
to the steady
indiscriminate nodding
from Grandpa’s appetizing
snooze

the Braves would play – sometimes
slowly, sometimes picking up
the pace – until effortlessly,
Grandpa would raise his head
to welcome the sixth inning scrolling
in from the same Chevy
commercial, and nobody were ever
the wiser on who kept time better:
Grandpa or the Atlanta Braves
.
20071107:1123
y

2007-11-07T14:26:00.001-05:00

found: a new york city postcard
with twin towers intact, a handful of letters
behind the façade, still holding up
kisses and all the sentiments
one reserves for postcards
on the rush

traditionally requiring
no response, i have suitably lost
an appropriate reaction, timelessly
treading that crumbling grey
sky, all hushed
but for the wailing –

you ran up to the roof;
you stood lost
between Thompson and Sullivan;
you stared out
your Brooklyn window
from across the waters;
i sat locked
in morning traffic

and someone held
this postcard, in love

how to say yes –
the city, wound
tightly, can still unfurl
the most complexly alive
secrets, as we empty
and refill ourselves
with these lost
or found moments
.
20071106:1220
y

2007-11-06T10:43:00.001-05:00

already, the muscles of day
and night are tearing and
rehealing, stretching
and slicing the hours into
the seconds
that carry your
voice across these primordial
wires shaping my veins
and the seconds that stand
still, waiting to evolve –
a natural selection
in bas-relief
.
20071103:0236
y

2007-11-05T10:38:00.001-05:00

à cause des photos
.
november’s wrinkling
magnolia stacking up
terraces of
sun, you
haphazardly looking
up from beneath
a slip of light fallen
across those curved
edges, a captured
vulnerability, the
unwieldy sky’s
suffering intensity
.
20071103:0017
y

2007-08-14T11:39:00.000-05:00

the best three ways (or 3 steps)
to approach a genocide:

organize our most fearsome
leaders to meet in one room
for an all-important, closed-door
session, philosophizing on
the definition – placing
each cardboard country cut-out
into five different categories

schedule strategic planning
retreats in Florence, Sydney,
Seattle, Hong Kong, Prague –
anywhere but too near
areas of questionable status –
different strategies for every
level of genocide-wannabes

and most importantly, always
keep our consumers happy
.
20070814:1141
y

2007-06-14T11:27:00.001-05:00

the dynamics of any relationship is wrought with intricately cyclical hesitancies. take, for example, just the most basic need for the preservation of self. once an issue is brought up between two people, both become self-defensive, and instead of solving the issue together, the tension can begin to snowball as each try to learn the new dance, knowing what they now know of each other. and the more they try to fix it, the more the issue becomes bigger, the more self-defensive they become, the more they try to fix it, etc.

take, for another example, the issue of vulnerability. same tangential cycle here. the more vulnerable you feel, the more unsure you are of your own decisions, the more questions you may ask of yourself, and sometimes to others, which may unfortunately create a dependency on others who may feel, after awhile, your vulnerability and treat you differently - either avoidance or dominance, which makes you feel more vulnerable and more unsure of your own decisions, etc.

the best thing to do is to talk yourself out of pride and self. letting go of self and trying to see the bigger picture gives you plenty of room to breathe as you inhale and allow a relaxed sigh to escape within that well-needed chuckle.
.
20070614:1226
y

2007-06-04T12:22:00.001-05:00

i made my mom's potato salad yesterday for the bbq:

boiled eggs (mom always says "eggs" first)
potato
carrot
sweet vidalia onions (it's a georgia thing)
cucumber (can be substituted with celery or anything that goes "crunch," really)
mayo
pepper
salt

didn't taste as good as mom's, but good in its own right.
.
20070604:1320
y

2007-05-31T15:57:00.001-05:00

i try not to:

(a tanka for n)

with forbidden sleep -
hitting the snooze button twice -
comes lucid dreaming

you keep questioning, “how can
something so wrong feel so right?”
.
20070531:1223
y

2007-05-30T11:25:00.001-05:00

i've never liked taking people to the airport. to me, it is prolonging the goodbye. it is easier to just help put the stuff in the trunk, wave, smile, wave again, turn around, go inside, and close the door once the vehicle drives away. it is more difficult when you're standing there alone, waving at someone as they walk away, then standing around, veering between watching and watching or walking away, mind still occupied with the goodbye because you're still within the confines of an airport.

then, there are exceptions. like letting you watch me walk away across the longest hall ever. and not turning around to respond when you said, "you have a long way to walk." i know.
.
20070530:1220
y