I performed this poem for the independent podcast Pilot Waves, for their series “poems about work”. Hey hey heyHold it hold it hold itHear me hear me just this onceBefore we part ways for the millionth time:What lessons can career ladders possibly teach your body as you go through impossible motions, pushing your case in…
For Diane Lewis. WALK UPRIGHT COUNT TO TENDRAW A LINE GO TO SLEEPSyllabus atop a stoolUnwilling memento mori.Yorick’s skull just now set down(Like your hand once weighed ideas)Warm erasers, smeared and darkWith residue of angel’s wingsWood and steel and acetoneBloodless, in the backgroundNothing breathing, nothing cold,Smoke escapes beyond the frame(Sometime before,…
I started with the solsticebut I had to measure it out. Not with carbon hair, nor melting ice, nor echoes from a siren’s mouth. So I hung Noah’s pants at dawn up on the cliffs facing south, And set the sun only once they had dried out.
Anyone familiar with painting techniques is familiar with a fundamental principle behind color mixing: not all pigments are created equal. One quickly learns to be very careful mixing dark paint into light paint– even the slightest drop could turn the whole color brown. Conversely, to lighten a dark color, one must add a whole ton…
I love the horizon on a sunday morning.i’ve waited a week for this softest of sights,her cloudy lids rising with silver eyeliner.She partied last night with a newly-made lover earthbut there is one thing she created on sunday:coffee– and it was only for me.I love the horizon on a sunday morning,the day the torch was passed.You…
I asked the moon out to promby chugging the oily seas where she skinny dipped,I threaded needles through the smallest stars and sewed a velvet sky…But she just rolled her big white eyes.”I need no more big-belted bastards. You’d better be the bashful guy.”So I slimmed back down, thoroughly lady-whipped…It’s a sarcastic universe, mom.
Try as I mightI can’t burp the babywho won’t stop eatingPaper.Maybe insteadI’ll teach it to vomitand stop wasting my bottledInk.
The living rocks cooled,The wriggling fish washed ashore,The birds and lizards fellvictim to a more fiery roar–And so will mankind,being once supreme,be reduced to apesby the machine. Consider this a preamble to an upcoming article on verticality. A couple of cool articles: http://motherboard.vice.com/blog/rich-doyle-2 http://spacetimearchitecture.wordpress.com/2012/12/11/morphing-scale-to-imagine-habitation/
First words, they always do that sexy thinglike the first time I moved on you,their anesthesia makes last light(how many stitches do I need?)But then there are last words,Their breath makes next lightwhich move on the long woundand make you unforgettable.
Every time I’ve caught you, airborne or bedridden, I’ve…Tried to invent a new way of holding you. And while hundreds there were,cradles, clasps, passions, pietas,more often than not my curls and swoons and tendernessforcedbrought me so close, so deafeningly inthat you ended up holding me…You know how:true inventors are just failed Gods?your folds I cannot…