The international collective remains insufficiently organized
resulting in violence and threats of violence that interrupt
commerce, procreation (love) and the pursuit of happiness (Cameron Diaz)
at least for certain populations, sometimes.

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In first light, your wig and Zofran​
on the bed stand, saucer of yellow almonds,
cup of tea, on the floor,
I tilt your chin, open your airway,
​perform rescue breaths.

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Paint barely dry, containing the detritus of fire
Emerging exits slipping out of bounds
Resurrecting your inner idiot, flying at large
An argument never won with a belligerent toss.

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in thin dime situations,
it is best to remain calm

a found flannel ensures warmth

you are a smaller version of yourself

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Down by the railroad tracks
a mysterious street
hammers before breakfast
where water heats itself
skin aching to be clean

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Because,
as your own employer’s masthead says:
Democracy dies in darkness.

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Those whose bodies have vanished
in the black hole of disappearing meat.

Those who must ignore their hungry child
because the answer is always, “No.”

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Spooky kine stuff
dat Einstein nevah agree wit

is eerily going on out deah​
or in heah

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Wireless
Psychopomps
Meandering
Through the visible
Mist

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I remember you,
free of walls and doors,
locked gates and security guards,
wardens and cell mates,
a "room for visitors",

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Let her house be a bushel of things
growing, fingers reaching, crying
their way from out of the soil
laughing makes way to sky

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digging down seven years
to my triple bypass
the bloody remnants
of that trip under lights

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In time I might forget myself
In course of vivid currents.
My bastard inclination
To wrestle with the ocean.

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I may never know 
what this is
but I bow

and keep the door open

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Summer with a scent of peppermint
Is a cliché
Shedded cherry tears cover the remains of asphalt
under the multitude of lonely feet

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or drops of blood, or hair, or parachutes,
or acidheads experimenting with flight
(misled believers in their superpowers),
or jacket, hat, and backpack of a child
​returning home an hour late from school.

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where the pins weren't
sharper than the air
stopped by pin pricks
​hidden in the remote control

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Open your window,
throw your ennui out,
which consumes itself
through the depths of your house

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You are a tree....You carry notions of hope in your wide open arms
You are also the dancing breeze on the still waters of a mountain lake, and the deep blue surging waves of an ocean. You wait for miracles to unfold around you.

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last night I saw you plunge from the top of the cliff into the ocean. you were wearing your blond wig, when you emerged from the water not a hair was out of place.

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Other people have better heroes, heroes
That break down less often, that come with a warranty.
But this is my hero, and I’ve gotten used to him.

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