There ought to be something./Some nuance or subterfuge,/a wind beneath the skin,
area of circle
Iíve been trying not to think of the Grand Canyon as genitalia.
It appears on the lips,/is a feral beast,/an antidote for poison.
the happiest, foggiest, most wasted/days of my life.
me and bettie
i like plain words like Yes and stop./and how they echo off your chest
pebbles and marbles, water and oil.
99 bottles of beer
i am the apple cart/That you roll around/and peel and sell off/slice by slice.
six in snow suits like sardines
letís not go in there, the simplest of packages,/the shimmer fins of sardines cooled prints in the snow.
i wish you'd catch me up/and splice my mind
I say, meaning/reticentbeatsdecadence/oftomeouterlimits
part and parcel
that boy liked to cut earthworms in half/he said they wouldnít die.
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