Regular Poem: what it looks like

26 May

i know what it looks like
every time

i’m drinking black coffee
and milling around

and you’re here
executing a function

and it looks like
i’m not

executing any kind of function but
singing along to the radio


maybe that’s
my function

but later

i’ll be

dodging punches
wrestling someone twice my size in the backseat of a van
throwing someone against a wall
protecting you from teeth and fists

making fun of your outfit

(i don’t want
to deride it
i want you to know
i’m thinking of it
[and you]
and how it might feel
[how you might feel]
under my fingers
and how pretty it all
[you are]

i’m butch
by trade
and perhaps inclination
(i always wanted to rescue the princess)

i am forced to wear a ball cap
and dress accordingly

(there are only so many things
that look decent
with a baseball cap)

but if i had a choice

it’d be skirt suits and cocktail dresses
and sometimes tuxedoes

frivolous updos
painted nails and
red lipstick

why can’t a knight also
be a lady

(i bought a pair of glasses recently
that look like what a ’70s serial killer would wear

i mean
i skulk around certainly

i carry binoculars in my trunk
i think and drive and think and wish)

i tried to flirt with you

but i’m not good at it
i’ve been suppressed
in this ballcap
(i use it as an excuse
[but really
it does things
to my psyche])

i tried to flirt with you

(i had a crush
on a boy in ninth grade
he had such beautiful calves
and in biology class
[mrs. sorenson with the perfect skin–a story for another day]
one time he missed
such an easy shot into the garbage
and i laughed
and he looked
at me
with such disdain
that i


in that moment

i had feverishly imagined
over our shared summer pe credit

was gone

because i had miscalculated
because i was too me
and because
he was too
a justin}]

and i ought
to move on to the next
terrible hormonal crush)

i tried to flirt with you

but i insulted you instead

but unlike justin
(probably justin,
with the beautiful calves)
i think

you liked it

you liked
that i was so confused by your outerwear

you twirled
and let me touch it

you endured

my inspection and suspicions

(what’s the fabric? rayon? rayon.
it looks like a robe.
i’d wear it to
lounge in my hammock.)

what i didn’t say

was that i’d be nude beneath

but you knew
you knew
that’s what robe means.

i’ve never seen your calves.
i’m sure
they’re as pretty as justin’s
i know what you look like.
and you know
what i look like.

i tried to flirt with you,
and you tried to flirt back.

we’re both pretty

bad at it.


Regular Poem: emily dickinson taught me

30 Apr

emily dickinson taught me
a lot of things
but raymond chandler did too

am i dashes and metaphors and birds
or am i stockings and pistols and
birds meaning ladies
of course
and so many metaphors besides

does contemporary fiction promise
the same promises?

i wish i’d taken a course
i wish i were

i read a book recently
film criticism
ten years out of date
distended in a yawning void of new
ideas i sometimes stumble upon

if only i were present
instead of this
of half-formed ideologies
peppered with arcane phrases
in my own circumscribed shit
pretending and avoiding

if only i were connecting and changing
but what
connections might i make
would they be progressive
or regressive
what neurons would be fired
what fires would be kindled

i stick
to my own house
my own life
my own feelings

i stick to
the side steets the diners
the birds and the birds

Regular Poem: I Don’t Read Enough Virginia Woolf to Make a Valid Argument

29 Apr

virginia woolf says it’s a thousand
pities never to say
what one feels

idk ginny

is that a thing anybody
calls virginia woolf?
do i care?

ginny, here’s the thing
i’ve got a room of my own
too many rooms of my own
and too many feelings in each one

i don’t want to say any of them
because i don’t want them in the first place

when i take a notion
to say a feeling
i say it too loud and too stupidly

maybe that’s the point
you’re making ginny
that to say what you feel
is a luxury
often squandered
on people who refuse to listen
and with lips that refuse to be articulate

Regular Poem: Shame Shall Be the Promotion of Fools

28 Apr

feeling stupid
is worse than feeling guilty
but maybe it’s just
a different kind of guilt
a redirected guilt
a pervasive guilt

that both
absolves you and condemns you
is a state of being
a personality trait
instead of honest conviction

you can repent
but you’re still stupid
at the end of the day

fools despise widom and instruction
fools also
despise themselves

Regular Poem: This Maudlin Asshole

27 Apr

this maudlin asshole
is angry at the rolling fog
sighs heavily at a full moon
doesn’t cry even though she wants to

this maudlin asshole
remembers and forgets
is pragmatic enough to know better

but when she looks in her garage(s)
and when she thinks and makes herself not think
of things and feelings past

there is melodrama there

some heightened emotion
best told in black and white

there’s a measure of pretense
in any interaction
a conservation
of private self
even in intimacy

this maudlin asshole
holds back
and calls it
something other than what
it is

it’s fear

this maudlin asshole
gets so
restless and


with her pride and vanity
and notions and fantasies

this maudlin asshole

is judgemental and mean
and romantic and dreamy
and pragmatic and logical
and empathetic and sad
and loves cemeteries and libraries

this maudlin asshole

is me

Regular Poem: creep

26 Apr

we’re all turning into the same


a lot of factors
pull people together
and pull people apart
and there a lot of types of bonds

sometimes that cashier just knows
you’re the right girl
to give her pizza and wine advice

sometimes you know
that dude is going to let you be upset and unload to him
in healing terrible ways

and sometimes
we wind up
wound up
with the exact people
whose clockwork gears
catch on the same knicks

it’s this accidentally perfectly
woven tapestry
of amateur detectives who all
know where each other live
literally but also
what mental spaces are home
and emotional spaces are comfortable
and what weird stuff
are the throw pillows on the sofas of their brains

we start off
different creeps
with our own creepy specialties
one’s the technological–
she facebook stalks, gleans clues from emails, social media, internet, intranet

one’s the covert–
he uncovers conversations whispered other places

and i’m the overt–
driving by with my binoculers,
the roughing someone up in the interrogation room type

but we’re all blending and sharing
standing over people’s shoulders silently
and giving each other looks

some call it a clique
but it’s more a squad a possee
we’ll be rounding up bandits in no time

we don’t share all of ourselves
just the parts that make us work well together
but when you open a vein
it bleeds
and soon there’s more of ourselves
on the table
than we’d realized

and when we try to put it back in
we get some of each other in the mix

we creep into each other
and creep

we’re all turning into the same


Found Poem: LIKE WHAT

25 Apr

Remember like five years ago when I used to get a lot of weird spam messages that I turned into poems? I finally got some worthy spam again! (TBH, a lot of the line breaks are original spambot engineering.)

Both boys jumped up and down
wanting to know the best way
to make God happy.

Nicely, whɑt does God likе??
Lеe added.

I meаn, we like
ⅽookies and cartⲟons and toys, but
what kіnd of issues aare fun

fⲟr God??

It was a qestion tһat for ɑ minutе Mommy and Daddy
needed to assume about.

Ⲟk,? Leе mentioned and then he stopped and thought.

?The very bеst factor aƄout God is ??? hmmmm?????..?
He puzzled

aѕ a result of һe had so many thіngs that had been grеat about God but he needed to

select thе very best one soo he woսld win the gɑme.

?That һe is

aware of everything.

That?s actually cool. Meaning he may also help me with
mу homework.?
Larry concluded wіth a proud expression on hiѕ faϲe.

Properly boys,?
Mߋmmy finally stated after they hadd give you numerous silly concepts

of what Goԁ did for fun,

?What Godd actuallyy likes is
when individuals love eɑch other and handle each other like we

do іn our family.?

Thhat made sense to Lee and Laгry soo Lee hugged Mommy and ᒪarry huggеd daddy too simρⅼy

make God happy.

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