WORTAUFSCHÜTTUNG

WORTAUFSCHÜTTUNG

shovel mouthed, you dig
a ghost of a grave, a
maskless leer—here we

dance on pages torn
from spinebroken books,
somethere when you wake,

take a swig of chemical green
mouthwash, minting your
tongue anew, a new hole,

bottomless in your yawp,
your coughed confession,
your ill-wished wants,

somehere we make a sigil
of roads, an open way to
ward you off, with your

wallcrusted soul funneling
wirebarb sharp syllables
past the careless guardposts

of your yellowing incisors.

FÜR 6 HÄNDE

FÜR 6 HÄNDE

cold faced, you
swallow a smile,
you break off
an icicle, jagged
eyed, murderous in
your kindness, your
moth eaten faith.

some stranger faced
beast walks past,
and you brace,
wound up with
chill and friendly
malice, ghastly, fractured
but claiming the

whole of all,
a land you
have seen once,
before the snow
cloaked it, a
place to sow
teeth, should the
ground ever thaw.

knowing my dreams are dreams makes them no less stressful

the air between us now, all needles and sulfurous furnaces
some casual cruelty come, bleach white and fuming
shall I cup my hands again, a chalice to catch your sick
shall I cast it ‘pon the kitchen floor, read you our future
all chunks and spatters // your mouth too many teeth
shall I teach you to swallow some, shall we gather, go
unforgiven again, lain down in muddy fields, waiting
to be plowed under, do you know that I am tired, that
another day waits beyond yet another damned dawn.

GALWAY SKETCH TWO [from the vault]

GALWAY SKETCH TWO

Gailimh;

with your slowwaking

raindark roads,

iron skirts pulled down

tight against the night.

you are not halfhospitable,

loosenighted, slowwaking

Gailimh,

eelroaded, eelrivered,

rainhearted Gailimh,

you are no stranger’s place.

CROWED

CROWED

cast your stomach into
the river, augur, let

the current carry away
the smoke, sweet and
skullsick, your

legs only need to be
an hour long, you

hope.

BEHOLDEN

BEHOLDEN

your self

narration chains

us to drowned

hours, some

sun sets

:;:

but it was

never ours.

DEXTER

DEXTER

lay aside yr.

tinfoil

gratitude,

yr. trio of

words that

can be said,

all you desire

is so clearly

de

:;:

served

FOMER COUNTRY

FORMER COUNTRY

the moon leers,

'I am no

singer'

fuck you-

r gutter

throat.

Be done.

Be gone.

ASIDE

ASIDE

rubiconical, decided.

you make your mouth

into the door you slip

out through.

a maze you 'forget'

to bring the twine

of your eyes into.

'stead your fingers

seek the limits of that

enclosed path.

you left the end already,

you left your shoes and

feet, but your tongue and

fingertips will never cease.

NAR CIS US [from the vault]

NAR CIS US

every thing is
a mirror (if
you polish enough)

even your hands
cupp'd and fill'd
with water held

still will show
your only love.
your only face.

BELLY

BELLY

hal's cruel nobility
deflates you,



you are the
too, too frequent



guest, outworn,
yr put upon greatness,



unthrust, “sack



:;:



more sack

“SOMETIMES I THINK I HAVE THE DREAMS CONTINOUSLY EVERY MINUTE OF THE DAY, PERHAPS WE ALL DO...”

“SOMETIMES I THINK I HAVE THE DREAMS CONTINOUSLY EVERY MINUTE OF THE DAY, PERHAPS WE ALL DO...”

time is a slumber

drowsily devouring

each day

collecting along the

webbed cracks of

an empty—you know

what belongs here,

if you don't, your

spinal fluid still

does.

EXTRICATE

EXTRICATE

doorlegged you

remain six paces

a'head, willing

prey, unwilling,

your paper-horned

Actaeon doggedly

behind.

EVER'THING

EVER'THING

languish, you say,

cobble tongued,

a cancellation upright—

:;:

screen blind, daft,

awaiting a second's

hand to crack the

geologic emptiness

of the dry and

imagined swimming

pool.

FLASH

FLASH

week and so

sept able—suck

you land—if

lawed—pear said

an drams, brew

said, clay aimed.

laughed on tushed,

lift on fail'd,

massed knightly, morn

and, mist—on

ray play said,

on ray play

said.

MISTER DUCK (R&R) [from the vauit]

MISTER DUCK (R&R) [04/04/10]

you and me against the world / world about to end

by the neck, under netting,

you become our blustery best

abroad—an antic-frantic

anger, a guileless smile, the

scene-stealing wise-crack

ing, voice-cracking—never

as worldly as the wabbit,

but every bit as dangerous.

even when it's your blood,

red and Pollocked around

those whisperthin hostel walls,

a half a hostile world away,

before you settle your bill

back into place and slip back

into our dreams again.