four pieces that don’t know how to work together.

January 14, 2012 § 1 Comment

Everything works in my system

My knees moving without cushion
just fluid all around the knee cap
-a soft cheese gnawed by winter.

Acetone in every panted breath of
wind against my styrofoam hips:
My indestructible structure

dissolving on its way to work.

He threatened to jump from the top
and the cop
s came up demanding identity.
There was a thump and then the sound of things sliding
or concussing.

“His hands were in cuffs
and his feet never touched the stairs.”

Well this is an ugly green
we’ll have to clean that right up
love how the super is a drunk
and the closet is storage
and theres never been a squeaky mouse
since i started making it spic n spac
no i think you were right to out that racist
i completely agree we’re suited for one another
you’re very interesting and i’d love to pull your hair out of the drain
and this might come as a surprise, but our neighbors are very quiet
and i’m barely home at all.

City Island all over again lapping the dusked
back of Dunkin Donuts where I watch the squirrel eat his boon bagel up in a tree.
The sailmakers and fire fighters are tucked into Brian Dempsy’s and the P.S. playground has latch key kids circling a wounded seagull until its dark enough for it to die.

The crossing guard has brought her dog and tied it to her Pick-up and she shifts her weight in front of the cranking and squealing body shop. Everyone is crossing against the light at dusk. They don’t need her help, just conversation about their litter of children. He wears a Jersey. She loves makeup and puppies.

Back on W Street I sit in the blue on the toilet with my head tilted forward
and my lower body forgetting what its doing here. My ears
perk up when the gunshots from the range crackle across the sound
like if there were pebbles falling from my hands. I sneak unweighted breaths before I open the door.

After I draw the shades and give out my bi-weekly spoonful
I’ll fly down the painted brick steps and onto the sleeted pavement
walking slowly towards the water.

The Sound lapped when there were whales here
and now laps the skeletons of boats.
It shushes while smoothing a metric ton of broken bottle glass

and you can see from the piecemeal coast that
we’re on the edge of the Great City and
my eyes brim every time.


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