Naked Poetry

I had the best seat on earth.

The one between thunder

and lightning.

I began pacing–

as I do when things

get too loud.

I couldn’t tell

if they were fighting–

or making love.

Arguably, there is no difference.

To me–

making love is trying to show the other who

loves who more.

I always do something like this.

I always imagine myself singing

in a castle. A sort of five-part

hymnal. Claiming

A new sensitivity, yet

failing to capture it.

Held by music

held by angels.

My music terrifies me.

Morning glow,

Don’t you ever settle for dusk. Wasn’t it you said you’d never return to the see of the sphere, where you melted down in my arms. I didn’t know what to imagine so I ran to the moon reflecting on the water and I dove in.

I knew you were electric when I started peeling

forward instead of backwards. When I started to save paper and

Dying breaths. I knew you were electric when you refused that

you were beautiful. I knew you were electric-- all Hair,

and Soap. When you went into poetic Frenzy with me.

I knew you were electric when I started listening to you. You

were everything I wanted in a counterpart. I don’t care if you’re

the wrong Sex. We speak in vague and murder. We are corruption

and masque. We kneel out help to one another. We combined our

last names so we could write a Paradise. Poem.

I knew you were electric when I saw your symmetry. Wheel-barrows to electricity, poem

to poem, back to back we were. We are architecture and collaboration.

We will die immensely. Dedicated to sun worship pen glory.

I love your taste in movement.

Anything for beauty,

Anything for beauty.

Listen.

Cut the linguistic tropes already.

If I hear one more cliché

I’m gonna shave my head into twelve lines, dye ‘em with bleach and tide, then I’m gonna make you view yourself from the sidelines til you forget you have a face. Listen. If I SEE one more Tesla X——I might have to buy one.

If She’s drowning, I’m CPR.

Class of ’08. I turn into mesh when she’s around.

Shadows and ocean dark. But she can see us. I think

She can see us I think she can see me! I want her to see the lights! Adventures and silk balloons zooming past palm trees and people, playgrounds and pictures. The way she captures light…

She

Is

Spectacular.

Approach me oblique. Come at me cryptic. Say trap six times, See what happens.

The Things Of Thinking

bone-backed. Racing my heart—racing thoughts

of clearness and complicated karma. Good karma.

You’re the best karma I’ve ever had. There, I said it.

Dharma done. Atman clean.

My soul

lacks

you

I need your stars to crash into me

Light me up I’m a building.

I’m-a building. I’m-a building up to something, trying to tell you Somewhere—

I think you’re beautiful.

I think you’re beautiful.

                           You’re a different poem every day.

Take a chance at proximity

in this hard-to-find sky–

despite your wish to appear

without emotion

you remain backless and beautiful.

More and more than vulnerable

your heart still desires

One

More

Mind

Yet the dream never ends.

And I am concerned at its presence–

hoping it will remember how to end soon

because I don’t want to lose your mind.

I like what it sees.

I like the words in your stories

so scientifically brand new.

I decide to focus on the honesty–

but I get stuck inside raspy conversations

dropping water droplets down my throat

just to see what happens next

Concerned for our constant damage.

Wearing nothing but rings.

Promising you every one of my moments

While making sure the second-hand sings.