Excerpts from Some Ache, Huh Daisy?

she—

two of us tied.
flowers into our hair but love is

terrifying continent

shifter—not to talk

about love
in a poem, for fuck’s

sake on the beach those skinny
girls whipping
martinis outta no

where—and one of us said 'baby

we gone,' so off we flew down
the pier it said no

swimming both of us knew
we were going
to. we smiled our flowers

floated by //

 

 

she died

*

history.

big leaf and long skinny
pod swung itchy green
gauzing black trunk
sky scraping
trick of rising—
no no, get
higher.

street damaged by some woman’s blood
three week’s prior. now at the slitting

corner a girl

juggles juiceboxes
streams life from the lips steaming
fresh off her no leaves —

fall yet those pods are still ripe

 

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

 

if her slabs got painted red like chickens?

 

  inside chickens eggs inside heaven.

  at the cusp of Leviticus she cut her finger

 

  on the gate, trying to get back

  yard sun on herself. well, it was time

 

 

 

to learn. balance and boards,

  when she saw them in the sun, leaning

  blistered against her sycamore,

  her heart blasted. who had painted her trundle, and what was that song

 

 

on the radio. true: a gash can’t stay

  a gash for long. she gnashed inside, re

  turning, bookmarked, accel.

 

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

 

 

plums upon plums
plumes smoke

extend one
arm air invades
a socket

hurl a jamb
stopper the hole—

i read that note. sweet at the time

plums would’ve been. days he

didn’t kiss me, plums... i

 

flicked the light on and off, buckled around juice
and he didn’t open where i—

 

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

// in dust what ties

 

one thing to an other?
low-slung sky &&

squatting trees
poles carrying
a path / who has walked?

stumps, stubbles
one tree caught
swayyying

a house like a shy child
shrinking
no shield
branches sturdy
things fall

through
&& no piece of dust
stays the same
place for long

you see already we have past
she is no part of
this present
ly

 

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

 

 

stretch,
& this please
regime.
ok i got up,
blasted the blinds
see?
dreamed ‘______ not
a very jewish name’
ok eat the sun

flower seed, a flat
blue sky blown in
skyscrapers are over
grown sponges and i'd wring
to find daisy if i had to, and i'd

find daisy if i could—

 

 

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

 

 

SHE.

 

 

 

%
seventy-five for instance
fell and all i wanted was a beautiful.
'could you get me a beautiful?'
I asked. no. the ceiling
had cemented itself by that time for
sure.
the catch in the line was unmistakable.

fixed myself on the green light over the pier. 'just like
daisy' she’d said.
'i think like daisy' she said. and how i said it
'love'
to her.
i hear the neighbors fuck and hold my rabbit

tighter sweat out furtive sleep. make her come

back she she she she

 

doesn't.

 

 

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

 

 

the lines and

that orange balloon
burst into blossom.

oilkill, chap door.
a chapped whore.
insistent on it;

her bent frame nicked the rail.

if you found my name you would under-
stand. if you stood you would
stand.

i do not ,, for it.
nor do ifall for it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

the lines end

 

 

 

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

 

 

scuffmink, i smoked a tenacity.

over the broadside, before the fire knit.
punctured on you, fwwwwwffff.
quince, bulbous. fewer than thatchery.
match the mums your few-for-few.
viola for wants in your knife, hear.
con sequins. my fire plait. my fire plait.
no kissed milk, no dumb door. no sharp,
ssss, rabbit yellow spike brush,
ssssa anesthetic.

 

 

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

combed the path every
day to make a neat

part then scalped along the turn.
[if she carried a lantern i never saw it.
if she carried a lantern i never saw any light.?]
lemons in a sack in the river,
cola dragged behind the boat.
pink bikini sunned herself,
baby picked his scabs and how
did they not capsize?

in retrospect we wonder
what kind of comb was that again?
was the part on the left or right?
what was the degree of the turn?
how many freckles were on his face?

somebody's got to write this
down.

somebody's got to light a fire before we all burn up.

If she carried If she carried

 

 

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

 

 

a band of water under the bridge unmarred by rain.
'you get very spanish,' he told her. 'your taste.'

days went by and she didn't think of soap operas.
whereas, in the room with straw rugs, charlotte (yes, colette,

another charlotte with long brown hair) took brandy
instead of running the air conditioner.

her mushrooms were past their prime.
you know what i mean.

'how dare you say my taste?
referencing me like that? like a bottle of blueing?'

ides, ides, ides. passed again without notice.
all those signs off the interstate.

he thought of babydolls, ones that took a bottle.
how could he hold it so it would not slip out?

wind, red, wind, red, wind, red,

tuck.

 

 

 

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

 

 

Open morning palms
chest warm sun her!

And nobody’s eyes,
and nobody’s eyes.

Light waited behind

curtains; for her

pillars, and, pillars,
between marble hands}}