December 2011
7 posts
A poem for yous.
This is for the first time
in a hot tub.
For the top bunk when
my room was still green
Naive at 21, flicking
the turn signal at Frederick boulevard
that sort of happened, didn’t it?
For hats coming off, by accident.
For knuckles brushing, by accident.
For two minutes, by accident.
For please stops not working.
For rusted over eyelids.
For a heart clutched in the palm of some...
For my brother
I’m back home
where the world is lined
and patterned in crisp ceramic squares,
where neon lights drape “America”
in familiar logos,
and the neighbors hustle quickly
down the sidewalk
with their bags
and bags
and bags.
It’s Christmas Josh
and the limbs of my artificial tree
remain unbent.
I find myself thinking about peace—
peace, peace;
the falling echo...
Commands
ctrl
alt
del
end.
esc
esc
esc
caps lock
num lock
$%#@
shift
backspace
window
enter
home.
Acceptance Speech
There are certain things to thank like:
the plastic laminate on my first library card
for lasting, Grandma’s hips which
gave unto my waterbed as
the Little Golden books spilled from her lips,
my tiny ears which jarred them like preserves.
I have to thank the lack of earplugs
while crickets and toads gossiped
at night, the view of the moon
on a rusted rooftop resting between
the...
Sidewalk
The basket of suburban living:
Catcher of 2:15 in the morning,
the vomit and Fucks of the bar fodder,
littered by the emptied stomachs
of youth; the smudged chalk portraits and
freely abandoned trikes, feces
and flies, the venue for garbage buffets.
Sanctuary of sneakers,
Of scraped knees, a home
for orphaned oak leaves,
the open casket for summer’s
suicide, the greens of gutted...
Laughter,
The loudest whisper ever—
mouth agape with
stairwell teeth,
it rumbles from the throat,
boulders down the steps, the
slip n’ slide:
a thousand...
Wisdom
Long, it spins in the gulf
sucking clouds,
stirring up the sky, it gathers—
a braiding of hawks
over your continent.