they that know not that they are fish

when i go out on my night walks in the neighborhood, there are always these deer grazing in the neighbors yards, stepping slowly through the flat streets, under the light. the other day I saw a buck, even. But yesterday there were no deer, just rabbits on rabbits bouncing through the grass... it was as if the deer had metamorphized, as if they were never deer in the first place but trapped souls changing shape, wandering
and under those lights was i a human? how could i have known

sub water, sub air
sub earth, ashes to flesh burned, unburned
again again again

they that know not that they are fish
living in a mouth, 
bacterium bodies, flayed interaction
metathought annihilated by momentum. clammy arm sweat back and torn hair
aphasia, schema of shape
elbo neck and humid scalp prickle

drinking an ocean and diving for earth
the ground bleeds, the clouds open up for autumn to pass through

the rain is still playing...
even in space, I'm floating under you

hey have we been in each other's dreams
did you see me driving last night
out of control
tearing through those neighborhoods in that truck
my teeth haven't stopped grinding that's how I don't know
if im still here
and if youre still there

...dragging me, land-drowned

familiar tasks breed acceptance
we get to know them like persons
and it lessens the chafing
but acceptance   is no virtue unto itself

 

if (2018)

what if your mom scooped you up, dirt, and threw you against the wall but instead of spraying apart,
on impact congealed and made your shape

what if, when diving for oxygen, the first fish found not gills carved into its side but two more jaws, useless and broken

or what would be done were the first birthday, panspermia, a missed rock past a missed rock
sailing quiet until movement is lost entirely
prokaryotes got bored and slept instead

 

mobius (2017)

God-damned and God-let alone’d
one might have guessed,
Back then

twin faces gleefully apathetic and fixed apart from itself,
chalked up and lithic

Feb.
mobile and purveyor of history
I am the Truth
I am, uh.
Imitation, and dormiveglia and lo!
there is the vulture of your perfect privacy

Mar.
phobic, androgyn. um, wild
haired too and not what you th

bre/ad out of dryness, m.
I don’t know what I am

Apr.
sick undone slumps on his face in his palm and falls into his phone
this is a divine virulence im made of and im sorry you trusted me

he is walking backwards through a school of fish
after they said goodbye

the circus girl, that should have stood before,
is standing now

I am 1AM I am 1

the stench of the coast
the crow hat man
the girl masturbating on a bed of newspapers

 

the lazy june (2016)

“We will be okay,”
and me thinking we made it to okay
unable to ascertain or gain a semblance of

I stretch and feel your agonized affection for me
you cry out, “Save us!”

Outside your window
the gentle rain replies, unconcerned

We have arrived at okay

Mediocrity was never an aspiration of mine
I hated watching you on your phone in the late hours of the night
poring over recycled whimsicalities with a sick fluorescent face

Outside your window,
morning jogs by and I
pace restless as you waste the day.

So we found this, our underfed love-form
It had to do
for the time being.
And we smiled

 

january 20th, 2017 (2017)

in non
I waited for that stripped bark to speak
hailing its wasted tropism, 
I stand on the platform–

the lacerated whole, 
a fucking horse spent hauling its master’s clay
quartered after sex, 
hung in a barn beside the low-lying babe

cowled n licked, 
understood as CHRIST
missed by Herods arrows
and u missed this in your fables

that horse
pieces a perfect angle, suspended by cord, 
cleft leg blessed by dust

gods in the tinnitus, 
they say
and I am the rising pitch
no
I am the low-tone frequent whirr waiting to reap your soul
when you know I’m there

the worst kind of predator, the one you never notice
evolved to landscape, seen and never known
sown and never needed, 
until

break my dough bones
indicate a limit on the Circle
cast a hex, fingers on forehead, across shoulders
down
towards
ah

sexless, you find
and I smile
devouring your like a galaxy devours demigods

 

d (2015)

independent of any unloaded virile terse
there is a white square room ‘lumed about 7 times around.
fjord let an echo of whale brays

repetitive eeks in quick succession vibrate along this quivering ceiling
shaking my elbows just a tiny bit

I stir from this mental stupor slowly gathering momentum
Up a hill gathering momentum run

My wrists ache, my hands have no grip
a lifeless bloom off-center inside angular metric rods, golden

always reconfiguring
Incoherently mesmerizing

still my eyes brim their soft edges with wheat
seething the wolf that is stalking me
I never knew I could have a happy life like this
soothing the wolf that is taking me

engel und lichten, unheimliche bild bei mein mund.
so traurig haben wir nur uns
wir haben
unheimlich
ich nicht uns haben

was ist daß was ist daß

ah, fick.

lichten aus Himmel mein Löwe whispers forth
I never knew I could live a happy life like this

in the company of beasts
in the company of beasts

 

Ode to Birds (2016)

you together run the current
feel the current,
nerve endings alight at the twist

linearity makes sense to me,
and yet
you dip and drop through expanse
cutting in curves around barriers I cannot see

avoiding tracts oft hunted
the pines,
the deadly space

linearity makes sense to me
and yet space is curved,
time taught you this with the harshness of grace

 

the dome (2015)

Your basilicas have ivory on them,
and her shaved head laments the millennium!
O timeless watch that ticks away while our bodies slump into stupor
a snowy wasteland, dark helmet–man and horse

black fading into black,
a foreign man on a black horse
Did I fall from an asteroid? did I come out of an asteroid
I’m lost from my people
in the widest white you’ve ever seen

sooted snow and industry
the man goes down the horse goes down

a restaurant of fleisch and caulk wet grease, dripping
the water they served me tastes empty,
as if were more air than liquid

hail to the tabernacle of black and gold
a chariot? A throne lauded by plumes of chitin?
no, I think it resembles a menacing forest from countries unmapped

side eyes in panic dart
massive marble boxes stacked,
prepared for the corpses of giants

We will kill them in the rain.
We will kill them in the Spring.
beat and beat and sprinkle their remains on our plates

we will kill them when our hogs are gone

One loud slam of the tall gate
Followed by rattles of subsequent frail knocks

(a stranger exits this hall and I long after him, feeling like I missed something and he has it)

ride, horseman, through the night mountains and snow,
not looking going past you
fire in his horn
going to prepare the way
when you get there you will be warm
you will be known