st louis

i thought life was about

crouching in the tall grass

long enough to enjoy it

remove the basket

and there’s a candle burning underneath

the lion and the lamb

are curled around each other

eyelids clamped in such a way

that if you blew on them

they would hardly flutter

but you wouldn’t want this

there is a freedom in ceasing

to pretend Babylon holds

any meaning to you

it’s no longer shellfish

and mixing fabrics

so i send you pictures of houses

with church steeples

and you send back

cheers of crowds outside your window

ones that waken you

from a light sleep

and there’s the sad fact

that you just have to do it

you must bring the knife down

on the neck of

your very first dog

and you will have to do it

again and again

because it’s all either

those you must explain the world to

and the precious little others

so i’ll go on writing

about the sacrificial calves

and you’ll push my hair back from

my face or say things like

“if we leave now, we can be barefoot

in fifteen minutes”

rejoice, remember?

someday it will feel less like

taming some beast

and more like deciding

to be terrifyingly honest

seriously, rejoice

for all of the self

and all its consequences

tiller

she cut her hair in our bathroom sink in the light of the afternoon between our game and our dinner and she left it there in a rare lapse of judgment which felt pointed enough to warrant interpretation. i believed she left it there to remind us that we love her—that we would linger over the splayed curls before cleaning them up and i really did believe that. but then she was gone and i missed these reminders even when she came back and i still didn’t forgive her and it wasn’t until i was much older that i learned in a dizzying flash of sameness that people just forget

Pennsylvania German

when you go down feet first

you have more control

you were under the assumption

that i was much more careful

dutch for running around

german for everything else

a humble phase of subversion

philistine in the distance

when alexis said i can tell

you're searching for something

capacity, or profound respect

yesterday today and tomorrow

when we are together

we are building an altar

where we both remember

-

women are visual creatures

some kind of savior

all perfectly even

fish eat your spit

before they know what it is

-

stress sweat

trapped in wool fibers

we stare at the blood

i left on grandma's quilt

common agreement

that this is beyond

our understanding

love, to me, is pure devotion

stand still

i'll do the talking

don't you want

things to be good?

mind empty

as i wait for the answer

corvus corax

i always thought

there was too much kissing

until i met you

every detail a marvel

salad for dinner

desk in your room

i stare inside your fridge

as the door swings shut

there is so much in the world

that i can't pronounce

i am too aware

unless our eyes are both closed

i shuffle home to a dark house

stare at the ceiling

fall asleep mid thought

i'll hear the rest in the morning

bug juice

tongue sliding down a throat

tears well in my eyes

do you think about how

there’s questions

we’re not allowed to ask

i overheard you say that

being chosen by me

felt like being descended upon

i think i smiled

but i can’t remember

one time a porcupine

smelled like my period blood

during mating season

pheromones like claws

yellow kitchen light

emitting a loud hum

i’ve started letting house bugs go

through the back porch door

🫙

you called back home

where it’s already tomorrow

flowers bred to smell

like rotting meat

there are times i believe

you could teach me anything

that hot water is quieter than cold

and the implication of being

a conversationalist

they used to play derby horses

heavy metal before races

so while they ran

they heard more silence

I Love Perth- BBC In-Studio Steve Lamacq Evening Session, March 15, 1995

lying on rock beaches

i describe the way you sweat

and i know what this means

lodged in my mind

like–i can’t i’m sorry

or i’m sorry, i can’t

i had a dream that you

played in a st louis band

but im not sure i meant it

giveth and taketh away

how long does it take for

a sea to be sunsoaked

all that makes sense

is what i don’t have

to explain to you

godverdomme

backstroke is english for rugslag

a word that could smooth over a sound

can we hear that one again

and again

and turn it up

until it sounds like ocean waves

the incus and malleus

resemble two teeth kissing

when mine meet it’s all bone

chipping away

yours know the feeling

of being gathered up together

then slowly drifting apart

gums stretching

toward what looks familiar

you didn’t know that my world is

comprised of only little clicks

how to exist as

an abundance of buttons

amongst no shortage of fingers

just short of wisdom

don’t think, just push

you must believe that

the dull ache

can deliver

a brilliant white

the one a tongue revisits

its presence shocking

every time

sex tourism

orange juice at lunch

casual brilliance

my mom would say i was “eyeballin’ it”

orange juice walls

embarrassment of riches

the sunday crossword is not difficult, just big

browning in eastern daylight

the thought never occurs

my stigmata start to itch

here comes summer

jack rabbit jag

bitter irish breakfast

i squint my mental eye

remember your facial features

sunspot in the center

hot sidewalk

the smell of heat

reminds you of every childhood summer

stacked on top of each other

your blood warmer than mine

after the symphony im quiet

i can’t stop having stupid thoughts

ie: i like living on a one way street more than i thought i would and that

i could be nice to you forever

is not a compliment

7.27

i can almost convince myself that

i’ve never told a lie in my life

it’s lucky

i find all things fascinating

and all things are found in you—

gold-star bisexual

recreational catholic

in my mind, i can’t conceive that

you’ve ever tasted a fruit

not perfectly ripe