side of house, winter night

explosive dark plush
a crust consistent in inconsistency
blocks and believes the light.
6 million veins across the stain of 10 o’clock
and old stale bricks chant next to
poor white panels:
somber pores of home memories.

We leave tonight.
Please look. We want plenty:
slick conditions.

East toward evening then
increase and develop at night,
Heavy lake, blowing into morning.

ooh, Wintry.

Shift toward evening and hold in the Northeast winds.


man sees himself in what was not a mirror
was a window
man saw him(self) went outside
to check
looked through window
sees himself

thanks for having me on.

man tries on many hats
smiles smiles
never not smiles
many hats with many versions
of the same color
hues are huge. Man tries
on many hats, snaps out of it
dragged back to his cell. Still trying on
many hats.

thanks for having me, sugar.

Ed dreams in color
Ed dreams of his city, his girl, his life
Ed dreams in such vivid colors
not worth listing in a poem
Ed sees himself, Ed sees everyone
then Ed wakes up
to a usual but hated blackness



im like a witness
my fetish is observing
seeing, reviewing, passing over

swans with gold stones in their stomachs still afloat in my world

el ocaso primitivo pulula nuestro salon
abundance and abundancia
tanto ocaso que yo mention the evento
with a folded vocabulary

durante una misa de gallo, decimos
blessings for the meek.

for the weak
las mansas se compran a plazos
se venden
prostituting in blue dresses

se rinden el sol y la albahaca
which is weird, because basil never gives up

se surmegieron las hojas
the basil leaves took the plunge


sweet, round, orange miami
clues to warm grey tundras lie
in the mouth of Biscayne
in the summer and spring vocal tracts of land.

Senior footsteps ceased pleasing
gritty toenails and false photos of sweat

were those waters clear or blue
Air and breath, gas and wind All
pregnant with
ships and rafts and gold wafts
of mouthy, unpleasant gulls.

the shapes of brown skins over plastics
without the color of flesh
stretched from age
then re-stretched by fingers
yellow sun strands caught in a spot of drying blood

no alarm.

Miami taught me to wait.
Taught me to lose things worth losing.

Chicago spring

a seat for me
to ponder the loneliness of pears
a plastic swing of sugar and pursed lips
too sweet, the lips are too sweet.
rain waits for the train
empty breaths we can see polluting
the space under a stale electric false heat
available only til the end of March
-we needed it past march.

spring turned on like a switch
it happened in a park near the city
near me, near all of me
new flesh of the earth in between
faint histories
a medicine of stones and syrup
pushed over and powerful
-flourish the colors of somebody’s past.

museums- poem, daily prompt: vivid

the emerald swine
after surface before shine
free college

dirty momma
brown swarms of cells
pelican shit.

the church on hill kind
of Paris.
the job is a moron

liberty and fish prepared
a green mark of flourishing

naked lady stands under
the frame, not naked
canvas clothed

another good reason
for museums to be free
-rouge blossoms of mythology.

i binge.


via Daily Prompt: Vivid


a mannequin plump and firm
– dianetics manuals on me. switch from 2, the board, 2

the bored. I look out on the bored room, full of bored yous and bored me’s

we searched for bored we’s, i wheeze the dust off the manuals.

say your pledge to my white shirt. my black
-buttons and
never mind.

you too i ask

us too I

Swear I
heard someone say it

but I really didnt

in the midst of all these manuals.