move like wildfire

its almost the end of the month
and there is so much
i haven't said:

like that these days move
like wildfire
and that your voice
on the other end of the phone
no longer makes me
shiver with sadness.

mostly i regret
that i did not write them down,
those unsaid things
that i
discovered at 2:03pm
on a winter afternoon lit
with silver.

not what's going on right now

(#8)

i stepped outside yesterday morning and there they were,
all over the yard like small elephants,
these dark birds, vultures, eating the snow.

i sent them to live in the apartment building on the other side of the mountain.

(#9)

we will paint this old church red and yellow
and call it "Hall of the Himalayan Good Deeds."

we will sell icicles and be open unreliably.

Approaching

We were near it, but we were not it.

January keeps coming like a freight train

Brownies for breakfast,
my boots are still wet,
my bike was stolen,
I'm late for dance class.

"Use your back" my flamenco teacher says
"Reach through water"
"Use your positions"
"You don't know how to use your strength."

I reach to the side
"Your arm is bent"
I reach to the side
"Your arm is bent"
I reach to the side
"Straighten your arm.
"You're shortening your line"

"Elbows" she says
"Elbows"
"Where's your base arm?"
"Where's your base arm?"

I'm turning
"Your arms are all over the place"
I try to put my arms in place
"I am telling you to put your arms in place
but they're all over the place"
I'm turning
"Your arms are all over the place"

"You have to change your habits.
You have to let go of those old ways."
"Flamenco is hard. Why do we do it?
We must like the punishment."

"Use your back. You don't know how to use your back.
I'm trying to tell you what to do.
You're not doing it.
You're just doing the same thing again."

Between every step,
I shake my head, hard,
trying to clear out all the old clutter,
to absorb everything new.
Holding my elbows this way hurts
but it looks much better.

"Is that enough, girl?" she asks me
"Have you had enough?"

Overcomposating

I salute you, Captain Red.
You're a studder with a glance,
built, you easily unbuckle
my imagination's pants.

Letter writer, never deader,
with a mother for a dancer.
when we screw it's like a panel:
ask a question, get an answer.

Let's be frank. I don't like.
It's the habit you deliver.
one more time and i'm
alone and up the river.

Isaiah

i watched his wide eyed love for me-
so open and full and warm.

he looks just like his mom,
big, beautiful brown eyes.

his little coos of happiness or disdain
rate the world around him as he bulldozes through it.

the best part is when he knows he's about to do something
that would categorize under the word "no."
he looks straight at me as he goes for it-
daring me (with shockingly false innocence) to comment.

I once had a friend whose whole theory behind
the cuteness of babies boiled down to one thing:
"it helps you fight the urge to kill em."

yikes.

... but kinda true.

TWENTY

The Miami Greyhound station
writing postcards to no one,
picturing picture window lettuce beds.
Hurricane skinny dipping,
seersucker dial tone,
trapdoor photo processing labs.

Days of heartbreak and hangover,
of postage stamps and glue.

San Jose pan dulce,
employment in the blender,
a stash of cash-only ammunition.
Fear TV screens,
shoplifted sunglasses,
automatic spring break transmission.

Days of heartbreak and hangover,
of postage stamps and glue.

Chopping wood and falling
asleep by the fire,
Routes 80, 10, and 95,
sweeping through towns and cities
filled with desire,
asking the address of anyone alive.

Days of heartbreak and hangover,
of postage stamps and glue.

geto boys 6 ft deep

What would the psychic say? Glass shard music is cutting through, wavering hums – Blade Runner, circling through. The train dips down and comes up again, whale arcing up for air. Some eyes shake hands at common sight, others stick to the ground. Shhhhh I’m doing important work.

I think he was Santa Claus on the Off-Season

Adam had a party Adam had a party
Adam had a celebration
What did Adam call that party?
What did Adam call that day?

Where is the moon?
If the earth is at Columbus Circle
The moon is at 63rd and Central Park
I measured the distance
Where is the moon?

On the 4th day
Adam had a party Adam had a party
Adam had a celebration
What did Adam call that celebration?
What did Adam call that day?

Who can answer these questions?
Who knows what I'm trying to say?

Arvwar

I can't believe I've got loneliness, even here.
Rock music is stupid
and these people are cowards.
The sound guys are cowards.
Everyone gets to play one more song except
for the act which deserves to.
Most of the time
in New York it's like,
"we know what it would mean for us to dance
therefore it's as though we have danced already."
The people are tired of themselves.
They care more about being cute than about being people.