in therapy
he was told
to make a fort
of childs play
& love
i came home
& the entire apartment
was transformed
into a fort
for her
since
nose nestle
sleeping bag cuddle
& love fort-ing
my love language
& i can’t stop camping
& i do it in the car
& i do it in the yard
& i do it at the bar
& i do it both near & far
& she can’t get over it
i was caught
camping in my car
lighting shine for the fight
& screaming all light bright
they never talk about the disapearences of the comrads slowly picked off from the cafes too drunk or stoned to walk home. they never talk about the friends picked up stumbling or on a bike ride and delivered to an intake or the outskits of town. they drop you and make you walk back. I see my friends being tortured in the lines of the newpapers & no one else seems to notice. you only know of you know. that is the strain and pull on reality. basements and backrooms load lines of lyrics for the generations drug debts repaid in military facility. making the sheets means you made someone so mad that his wife respects you enough to put you in the papers.
i built a house
out of scrap wood
hammer & nails
& a hot tinned roof
the rain beat down
like the rhythem & blues
of the leather soles
of my travel worked shoes
and the steam sizzled
grizzled iron
& fire for the want
of pensive still firefly
still called my name
when I had no voice
from the moonshine
that sings without fame
in tennessee
they test every bottle
before you bring it home
to light
the familiar
silent loud intimate
we know each other
better than the wives
unackowledgement gives it away
they all know we are known
an unkown
lying for poetry loans
small island
never noticed
until it drank so hard into the night
that daybreak fractured mirrored therapy experience
assholes drink whiskey
same as traitors
same as liers that famed
poetry flame all torched in rhine
same as wenches
and benches
and brooms
and bitches
left bank curious
stoned cigarette wondering where
an anarchist came
& gave it to give to her
still fishing
for A big pearl
that chases dragons
from sea to shining sea
chopsticks…
legs
on
the water
as travelers
what do we return to
after what we leave behind
& what remembers
does we stay the same
throughout the months & years
of lost forgotton and greyed
& renewed against the frey
I know him
but he doesnt remember me
familiar bruise
& oxidized gardenia sweetness petal betrayed
with woman it is never
I wish I would of know then
what I know now
& at fault is always hers
looking ahead
to being the forgottons
in these masks
& nobody smiling in the background
words fly off the page
fledgling rise
inspired
five fingered tofu breakfast
everyone hates you because you made them high profile
the dangerous word play
the security issue
the asset
the crime
desired ex-pat
wanted only for words
gathered flock of flies
she did not qualify.
underground borders
run by the men
whey
back wren
spinning
stealing her voice
& what of palestine
& what of the silence
& what of domestic
war and peace
so commonplace
that no protest is accepted
& the fuck you
so slight
that that that can never catch you
or her…
& he misses me
only when he has lost
everyone else
as I am only the wind
never the love
& no doves fly here
& how can we become healers
when there is nothing left
with no plants…
& no water…
will the bathtubs of water that diane diPrima warned me to collect irrigate the hot baked sun strikes
where no one came and no one cared
comrades jealous territorial over words that made them who they are
crying hysteric reading ode to radical sobriety while drinking pints of jameson
chicago and appalachia are very different animals
no one wants beat or surrealism until they have given up on everything else
…including wanting me
messy rough write with intent to flirt with stolen oil
familar synethesia with variable accent
he said hello, nice to see you again
…though we had never met
blood curdling blue like the color of his eyes when my chicken bled out
upside down in metal bend
with sheepskin snitch & love display in need of love
…as long as love was invloved at some point…
will they remember me when I am gone
and read my words wondering what it was like to be alive in the end times
of neverfear and nevermore and never will be dead by morning
…she was young and did not know any better
soaping the shadow wants to know what lies behind the door of Vermont
sexing the cherry is still waiting maritime for mermaid to return
parable of the sower stitches to save the memory of what once was her in southern appalachia
fish…
there is never a sound of true heartbreak
as there is nothing but secret mystery and shadow to reckon with
and a knowing that he lied and that he has done it before
there is never a warning shot
as they come in the morning and they come early
and they already had all the evidence as they broke in months ago, they just had to make it legit
there was a moment in time when I could of loved you again
as time makes one wiser and sweet
and with the same breath I am destroyed by your betrayal that was previously unseen
there is never an invitation
as you are in charge of your own destiny, & create, & assemble, as the sun rises and falls
and of coarse everyone knows this and that is why you are never invited
there is a pensive pregnant precipice over what hapened to me
as my child is missing and there was never any inherientance
and I cry tear of ash and iron for my mother who never meant for a pup to flea in the way that it did
there is a desire for something never seen & never felt
as what else is there to live for
and I cultivate silent tears unheard for midnight hour burns
and when we lose the schools
we must create a open educational space for all
and when we are told not to read and write
we must publish whenever and wherever we can
beacuse it may be out last chance
and when we are under so much survellience that we cannot speak freely
we must use the sign and love language of art and poetry
and when I cannot walk in my hood without being policed by comrads
then it is time to change what the word friend and comrad means
because love is too important to sacrifice yourself for business as usual
and if I am not allowed to change
we will create a world that is so diverse and homogenized one could not tell the difference
and if I play a muted trumpet
it does not mean I am a double agent
only that someone loves to reminisce in jazz thick emote carmel moan
and everyone I want hang out with are the ones I am in trouble for knowing
we all have a limited talk and silent mention mute because it is federal
and she has the privilage of ignorance
we acquiesce to protect display for true loves mistake
and I am released from obligation with long past fledgling weld melt
let us begin…
she was a wife of a man away at flame and still lives in fear of his friends betrayal. hissing as she walks by for telling on them. snitches get stiches. the tearing of one birthplace maiming of innocence and devotion. no apple to throw & no wedding to absolute. green goddess blessing with bow and arrows speak invisibility to the caverns revealed for ones safe passage to the other side. on the house with roses she said with dust falling from inside her nose socket eye mouth as mother mary spoke
