two roads diverged &c.
so I took them both

long story short
now-me is wise

and she says
at least I took the right road

can’t say I disagree though
I do and I don’t

to choose to freeze is
to choose to burn

one way
and the other

don’t remember much now
says the rocking chair with his
wrinkles down to here
covered in a blanket
riddled with holes

except

The fabric!
The static!
The electricity!
The spark in a dark room!
The viscous loom shuttling!
The sputtering note of petroleum!

burned but survived
preaches the bedpan hollow
out into the halls hallow

no-one listens without anguish
so no-one listens

Inside you the slow-breathing coal accelerates.
It’s fierce now. You expand like an old star.

I write down what I can.
Inkstained snow falls and lies piled around my chair.

I bargain. I accept nothing.
I say, Perhaps instead you can take…

So tomorrow I will lead you into the chamber
and feel your heartbeats flow between my fingers.

I cannot keep them.
I cannot be rid of them.

Write eleven; choose one.
To find that one the eleven must be written.
There’s no way around it.
You’ll find it in revision.
Five might seem like enough, but no.
Or ten? but again, no.
Eleven is the magic number.
Eleven is when something pops.
Still, treasure the first draft.
It’s not right, but still you love it.
It’s not quite, but it’s got that magic.

long in the quicksilver know your enemy
clings wetly to your bones know your enemy
shouts slurs in dark corners know your enemy
would if they could know your enemy

most virtuous most despicable know your enemy
crawlspaced bodies pigeonhold know your enemy
whose cloak of invisibility screams and screams know your enemy
under eye ink pools know your enemy

the accuser is: know your enemy

behind
shocking wave en
jambed it lives allatonce
neardistant

bowed
tied up real nice & set adrift
sea’s aspersions
waves hello

today’s rent due 10 years ago
same block but crumpled
but creased (who
laughed?)

2018 / 2008
nothing between friends
who anyways just sort of fade
neardistant

such warmth that grin which
i’d’ve butlered cloched quick-as-you-like

drips instead drops instead down
a narrow mineshaft

no ladder built to follow
no chain no bucket

lies strewn amidst unsailable scraps
stationary gemless

a flashbulbed minute tethered
in amber plunged

copper-wrapped its thrumming core
calls deep unto deep

& you shall
& you must