child with mud in its ears
thesaurus for mouth
that’s not me

sinner with fingers in
pies pies pies pies pies
that’s not me

fool suburban
nothing to do nothing to see
that’s not me

what i am is an excuse
for myself

what i am doing is what
must be done

where i go is where i am
right
now

it says
at the end of a sentence a period

as always it is wrong
cause

what if the sentence need never end instead goes on
on into an enjambed

future hazy disorienting
also forever

it says
must say fewer

wrong as always
you must say

whatever you must say
no less

Some memory of you
And the way you used to talk
Your mouth feared what it could say

A spare thought shifts
The stacks

Stands still
And what was I doing

You take my picture and I take yours
Somewhere a photograph
Meaningless still

Crooked teeth
Golden fur

In a sleeping bag half-in-half-out of your room
I dream big dreams

(They won’t come true)

Braved the 403 so many hours
I wouldn’t anymore

I’m 15 minutes away
And I don’t

this isn’t me

moving through the world
walking through waste deep mud always

this isn’t me

sweating in the summer sun
breathing heavy resting against some oak or

this isn’t me

in the booth pouring it out
to silence

this isn’t me

at mirrors somewhere me stares out
who is the head-me the thought-me

that isn’t me

but is

The mathematician grapples
With it again

Sketches solutions
Insufficient

Hazy edges
Infinite geometries

Grasps the rigorous hammer
Sees a world of nails

They say, We reject these stones

A ways off builders continue to
Slap wet mortar, hails and
Hallows in shared
Enterprise

As always, Turn windward or away

Sepulchres need whitewashing
Buttresses need buttresses
Trenches fill with water

Accusing, Grab a bucket or
bail

give each bird a name
lest

forgetful seeps underdoor
before open eyes

recite
each
one

whose name skipped
from sky falls

& other lies
whose invented name

is nothing
whose peckish e major
is nothing
whose latin anatomy
is nothing

you who lay end to end letters
lay top to bottom names

lay & do invent
ory

on a more personal note
i’ve not been able to sleep
lately and so–

do you remember the fountain
i would have lingered there forever
water to be seen but not drunk

putrid with disease and dazzling
i see myself collecting its mist
in valleys below cheekbones

to fill my hallowed out head
bowed in prayer and kneeling
not in weakness but in weakness

presenting to the quarter-angels
subservience to ever-flowing water
as demanded by quarter-prophets

but for a coin a wish a toss
i would have lingered there forever
with you husk in husk

choke down blonde bombshells
lily-of-valley-white

stripped of what civilised veneer
offered turning away from it

finally we are ourselves
mutter boys with arms for swords

whose fingers long knives
sheath almond fog

this world this mutton to be ground
underfoot unnamed animals groan

muzzled at thresh
ripe pomegranates bursting open

seed between molars burst
centuries old tang