After we've forgot to watch them live,
We watch them die in metaled beds
Alarmed and army sheeted on some floor.
Now, we sour to life when phones go dead,
The buzz thrumbed out of them,
And learn to roar to no one.
Fox hunt in winter
Drifts deep beneath horse breath
Smoked over white sifting
Red hunting home.
Boat above the deep
Small bit of wood
Not whirled yet
We wake to recognize
Each star played out
Upon the skull’s interior
Smooth ivory map
Scored, staved, and sunk.
The cupid of the dance
Has tiny wings stuck on,
And legs smooth under tights.
Women grown paint on big eyes
For baby innocence, surprise,
And play to girl-chasing maskers
In the expensive seats.
Watch this trick: I speak and drink
And hardly bubble through clenched teeth
Occupy my knee a moment and smile
While I swell underneath your weight.
My hand up your shirt working levers
Makes you say what I need to hear.
At home almost, we stopped to watch
A pigeon with iridescent purple green
Throat claw carefully around crusting
Dog shit on the walk. This, she told me
In her own bird talk, was a very fine day.
The oral tradition revived tonight
In a long tale explained in acts.
The outline of a prow
Petrified and the
Is all of the man
And man set afloat
In earth’s rings.
Barbie walks on toes in tights
Tits shot out with cowboy lights
Nose too small for face too bored
Lips soured to the gaping horde.
When she asks me where I am –
I have been here nine years and
Told her nine times nine times
Where I am – I say I am in Poland.
(She remembers, mysteriously,
how to say “good evening” in this
Obscure tongue. Mothers lead other
Lives, too, and I do not ask. It was
A long war and she wasn't married.)
She asks me to come home to a
Place I haven’t really been in twenty
Years. She is older than I am and
I am older than she was when she
Had me. Our split lives are unlaced.
My father rode a metal ship
Through waters warmed by
Fish sunned through the sphere.
One time he got so drunk
They kept him hammocked
For three nights and days and
Wondered would he rise.
Another day, in dock, he
Dropped a torpedo and
Hard men scrambled for life
As it was, and remembered.
Two approaches to Cindy
First we played in a tent
And the girl clutched my quiver
While I had no idea beyond
Squeezing new tits
Released years later, I landed
Accidentally by bus where
I knew she lived with some
Man in a waste city.
I had had a letter – “I would not be
In the desert if you had” – but letters.
I didn’t dare look for her.
The first time, I rode away, no hands
On my bicycle in big dropped rain
Howling cool almost day before police.
The second time, my canvas sneakers
Sucked Albuquerque asphalt summer
Up near the remote bus station with a
Machine’s worth of chocolate milk.
The women look like puffins here tonight
And wait on rocks for menfish to swim the strait
She crawls up herself, hunched
Knees to breast, reading
A hard, good book.
Her toes curl at it.
She pulls him down,
A great purple monster
Humping while her children snore,
A big friendly fuck
Singing while he rides her
Under the city, the kids have names
Like Joshua and Rebecca, but think
Nonetheless like Steve and Sue.
Their old fat ma is a semicoloned
Enema queen kissing the papal ring
Twice as hard now the evil is in.
She has spread wide her loins
A dozen times to tell her half of
The tale curled in monkish cells
And now waits out her signing off
With an oven of smoking flesh at night
And trips to the priest before sunrise.
Mike Pittarelli watched you twice:
Once for luck and once with ice;
I never knew if flesh or glass,
To prove would make oneself an ass.
An especially bony cranium,
Big-jawed head scraped clean
Builds himself on the bar and pours
Knuckle glass in two-by-fours,
Screws himself to the half-priced beer.
You, jowly man, you flesh writ large,
Beneath your gaze and stride and squint,
I pink your face and tuck your charge,
And hoist your breasts extravagant.
If I could perpetrate her mind
I'd thrust the organ of her thought
With mine, a menu of devise,
And each watch through the other's eyes,
Big lobed, ribbed, peeled hip to haught,
And back comeuppance, felt to signed.