clouds

music is a time machine today

yesterday the sky shared with earthlings a rainbow then a moon

today there will not be a moon to find

maybe in Cairo they can sing to the meteors          though not here

 the sky muddy       the layercake light like icing

but back to yesterday                 holy holy yesterday

i am a machine      you are a machine

want to get lunch

crown

when you are searching for the queen

lower the volume  lower your raygun

blink             wave             blink again

don’t wave a second time                     the sharks

they can smell the blood in your veins but

when they look down all they see is themselves

they think the other sharks are their own reflections

the ocean floor once was a silver mirror that vanished

nothing has been the same since

Writers on David Foster Wallace

Reviews of the Corner Bodega

September 7th 2007

TWO STARS

1. flickering light, foggy deli case
2. animal noises behind onion bin
3. clerk with veiny neck never there
4. beer in case is warm and not beer we want. price is reasonable though.
5. even the toilet paper is expired.

November 23rd 2007

ONE STAR

1. nothing to cook here for Thanksgiving.
2. lobster ramen almost killed us once.
3. they’re out of beer.
4. meat in deli case is expanding inside it’s shrink wrap. Looks like a processed meat bomb. Sandwich guy has another tear drop tattoo.

March 8th 2008
ZERO STARS

1. sign on window:
CLOSED NYC BOARD OF HEALTH. PEST WASTE. MOLD. MILDEW. INFECTIOUS DISEASE.

July 10th 2010
ONE STAR

1. activity at bodega
2. crew removes deli case
3. removes the desk with register
4. rips up entire floor
5. have a ten minute conversation with worker out on the street while he tries to get me to leave him alone, explaining the situation, saying, “You have no idea how my life has degraded since this bodega has closed. I have to walk up the hill for beer. I have to get lousy sandwiches at the place over by the hospital.
6. rest of crew getting annoyed at worker who is standing there talking to me instead of helping lug the onion bin out.
7. I tell all the workers I love them.
8. they ignore me.
9. they drag out a soda case and one guy rips his hand open on the door, blood everywhere. disconcerting. bad omen.

Continue Reading →

Not Calculable

sorry I crushed things
sorry I ate the cake and ate the crate the eggs came in
sorry I devoured the ingredient list
we will never make a cake like that again
big apologies for the locked door
but you knocked too soft
big apologies for the last sip
the last word, the lost love
your hair clogging up the sink
you’re in debt
but not to me.

sorry your college degree was left out in the rain
and the mice gathered the dried up pieces
when the puddles were sucked back into the needy ground
word came in: everybody needs a nest in the shape 
of plentiful impracticable dreams
woke up one day and saw the world was a mess
I did nothing about it, poured myself some apple juice

sorry I love to hear you sing off-key when you’re angry
sorry I want to die on cable TV or not at all
sorry for the cracked moon, worthless saves
pitiful times, big apologies

big apologies
for pulling your hair while we fucked
and you got so mad you slapped me in the nuts

feel bad that your award got pulled apart 
by the car crushing robot
feel bad for getting sick all over your finest work
I am human and my errors
are not calculable.

Sometimes I Feel Like My Own Life Would Never Pass The Bechdel Test

Saturn’s Return

one time saturn itself sprouted legs and a gender, landed, double knotted his nikes
straightened his rings and held my hand to the soft spot of himself, that place where
his skin bruised the shape of new jersey during that diorama life when we were all fruits
swinging like balls of yarn
trying to unbecome

the earth was a potato with a nickel lodged into its side, then –
i remember that much, and saturn was a peach
                                    i was a something with wings feeding on the nectar,
trying to get the pit where just enough cyanide is stored
             his rings weren’t yet crystallized around the gravity of himself
             his rings were still trying to be a harp inside his hum, then.
             i guess i found something in the way his flesh crooned itself tender
from the inside out, i guess i never forgot the annihilation
i guess i tucked it into my skin condition,
into the way my biology is always failing to replicate the song,
to bring this planet closer
i guess he’s never been mine, but still Saturn comes to me

sprouts cartoon eyeballs, an appreciation for hydrangeas
he grabs my other hand, pulls me down oxford street to the nearest bush, he says

WOW LOOK AT THIS FLOWER RIGHT HERE. IT’S WAVING TO ME, I THINK IT USED TO BE MY EYELASH ONCE AND THEN I WANTED TO BE A REAL BOY. I DON’T KNOW IF I WANT TO BE A REAL BOY ANYMORE. DO YOU HEAR IT CRYING?

saturn is crying

saturn plucks the flower, hands it to me, tells me to keep it safe
i shove it in my nose. i tell him, that’s where i store my love
the rest is somewhere in the ocean

he says HEY ME TOO, ME TOO. I STORE MY LOVE INSIDE A WHALE, because of course he does and then he tells me IT’S TUCKED BEHIND THE STEINWAY OF ITS TEETH, ATOP THE INK BLOTS OF ITS TONGUE. YOU KNOW, I STILL FEEL IT THERE, LIKE A PHANTOM LIMB. I THINK THAT’S WHY I CAN’T LOVE YOU. I THINK THAT’S WHY I STILL WANT TO.

I THINK SOMETIMES I AM STILL SINGING FOR YOU. SOMEWHERE IN THE PACIFIC.

my hand still pressed to his soft spot and now saturn hugging himself to the tune of me, wanting to hold one flower to the bruise of himself but still, always wanting all of the flowers, every flower, and he Loves Me Loves Me Not Today but he Did Once but now saturn lives in the sky. stores his pit in the mouth of a sea elephant
he drowns his love and calls it a whale song

saturn says IF I COULD FIT INTO ANYONE’S NOSE I’D WANT IT TO BE YOURS

saturn steps closer, trips over his shoelaces, he falls to the earth.
somewhere out there, tectonics groan. a car alarm goes off.
i imagine that half of california is falling into the ocean.