REVISION
friends fill in spaces
we want a public bathhouse
to get clean
we should be outside
with the stars
can’t see ‘em in daylight
though they’re there
we need a container
to hold all our words
the assumption that language can grow
out of us has worn us down
we could worship
with our knees on the tile floor
imagine the morons melting
it isn’t science the lense is decay
time to tongue the words
until they build electricity
AFTER AFTER
free my little cloud
forgotten in
the bee’s swarm
where the river
genuflects the Q
due to hysteria
and being a modern
woman
I am
childless
except I grow
plants with big plans
to navigate this nurturing
I tend to each
as if a child
how to decide
when to let go
POEM AS GOD
time to will the enterprise
from a modality of speaking
spark forth the wave
with ravaging delight
speak!
will the words to the page
make the poem concrete!
amplified!
express yourself with words, baby!
let’s mark this down as something
we’ve accomplished together
you, me, the page, time’s capsule
an unfuckable metaphor
love can be gauzy when hyperextended
I came across a ridiculous knicknack
sitting on god’s shelf
a cloistered view
the latitudinal vibration
in the cockpit of a seaplane
from this arena, I speak!
