I was born in the endless mountains
And from there developed an endless
Need to be held between valleys
Lehigh, Lehigh, lama sabachtani ?
Teenage Mary Magdalene, seduced
By the Lutheran lighting tech, I
Still sing the passion play songs
And feel wild enough to get to heaven
Julianne and I paced the overflow pond
In halter tops and platform sandals
I always picture her nose deep in sick lit
Perched in an apple tree, one leg swinging
Before Applewood sold the orchard
Sadness is a timewarp
What are two years in
The span of a universe
Or an anthill or a marriage
Nothing
Two years are a moment ago
And you still hang around
My neck like a talisman
You were an animal wild
And baring your teeth
Ereshkigal
Now you coo in the rafters
I can hear you when I sing to myself
The solstice is closer than it's been all year
Barreling toward some sort of equilibrium
Despite yesterday, tripping on a snow mound.
This present sense of planlessness is wafting
Down the hall along with the odor of cat hair
Burnt by leaning against the radiator belly-up
February is so swift it'll be long gone when
We notice the dairy bar lines and Belthane fires
New stars come back around and only last month
We paused to greet Orion on the dog walk
I keep dreaming of spinning in pirouettes scenes
Water wheels and flour mills and scarlet wine
This whole sky is alive and churning and we are
In it so I'm not gunning towards nothing I'm just
Letting the airs tell me what time it could be
I have a hunch that we're gonna die young
And grow old together in the next few years
I'd like to reclaim my accent, reinstate "henna"
Henna like "ain't it," henna interjecting Scranton
At the end of an otherwise placeless phrase.
The world's a wild thing, henna? Up here it's
Thrashing on it's axis and youse can't tell me
Youse have ever been colder, after spending
Summer splayed on cotton sheets simmering.
I can see my breath for blocks now. Hanging.
I picture us on the porch in 20 years or this one
Ruminating on how short the autumn is here.
On how short everything always was.
When the ground thaws
Let's bury old gemstones
Beneath new foundations
In fields of young clover
And beebalm and brambles
Somewhere the plants have
Meanings and futures
Under tonight's Aquarian clouds
Breathe spells into my open mouth
And warm me with incantation
It's so fucking annoying
How satisfying i find
Loving you
I thought I could have
Changed the world
They said so, but now
I'll likely look back
Having changed only
My name
Is there a song more for today
Than dulcet loops of midi files
In a call center's hold melody
O, shanty of the digital age
So laden with anticipation
Curiosity was a sin
Can you imagine
The shame of wonder
More dangerous than
Any other appetite
Because insatiable
Not me! All I want
To do is stare at the sky
In wonder, ask you
Endless questions.
Prove to me what
You can do with this
Insatiable queer lust
In the morning
It's all white
From days off snow
And an illegal
Reluctance to shovel
The cat depressing
The pillow with
White paws kneading
Not a clean sheet white
It's full of dander, old
Claws, and snowman plans
Dreams of grandmothers
Yours, though her house
Was a barn, she was
Happy to see me
I never dream of the future
Mostly i don't mind
living alone
Except those times
Dead arm bone
After the vaccine
And i can't get my shirt off
Oh, if anyone were here
It'd be funny
Also those times
Smashed lightbulb times
Barefoot in the corner
And if anyone were here
It'd be so silly
But instead i just step gingerly.
No, I don't know
What I want from this.
I have only one plan.
That one main mission.
I am going to let my hair grow
until I can split it in two,
drape it over my shoulders,
and cover my tits.
This bedroom is my skin
reaching out
With goosebump walls
Even blindfolded
I'd find the door
After turning left
After turning right
And the rooms around me
Exoexoexoderm
Layers of cells
Sloughing off in winter sun
Remnants of homes
Growing thick on photoframes
We know the wind is real
And conscious of it's space.
We can observe the shifting
Forms of dunes under the
Steady weight of the wind.
I have patterns too.
What does this pyramid of
Jam jars that I saved for you
say about my consciousness?
My brother played that ring toss
At the Wyoming County fair
Over and over and over until
He won me this off-brand Barbie
I'm telling you he went back several times
Aware of my baby dyke fixation
On her pink hair, pink cowboy boots,
Gold lamé tube dress - a stunning
hollow plastic hooker icon that I
couldn't turn away from I quietly
wanted that doll so badly and
I know what love can look like
He kept tossing rings until they landed.
My head is spinning like winds over
Fields of plantain and white clover
And I can never drink enough water
Tired of endless caring I thought her
Bottle would be enough I need floods
inside of my bloodstream make mud
of this dusty heart it seems the rilling
can't fill the beds pulling my body apart
This is the only way
I know how to love
Cannonball splashes
And confetti bombs
Reared up and ready
To clear these fences
What time do we have
To wonder and wait I am
Dying now and I won't
Die wishing my wings
Were stretched out wider
I've never been one to
Second guess the updraft
I still can't believe I saw you
Steps away - I could have touched you
Unmoving and so unflinchingly alive
I could spend hours watching your
Meaningful steps across the prairie
Amber saucer eyes swerving towards me
With some sort of generational forgiveness
All grass-fed insouciance and steady hooves.
