an old demo 

Found Relic, 2002

THE PODIATRIST WAS PRETENDING NOT TO LOOK

when my father stroked to the ground.

No one knows when he fell, 

or where he thought he was. 

Maybe he was in the woods,

dew clinging to a leaf, 

resting against a fallen tree

rot with rain,

he went swimming 

in the theater lights

popping above him like fireworks,

their smokey xeroxes in aerial suspension

drifting like jellyfish toward him,

or he towards the gangled tendrils -

his own appendages failing -

only the mouth gasping for something.

The rest of the theater standing in ovation

but he lay, gasping at the small, flashy pops 

of stage lights like a witness to the final stars of an exiting universe.

“Encore! Once more, another round

for everyone, pull me off of these wet leaves, up

out of the mossy sea and into the air above the November stalks.

Let the gassy tentacles of the lights hold me a moment

above death, above the applause.

There are no hands here but my wife’s.” 

And another old found poem (2011)

ENTROPY

tacos under a small rain, light beers

the air a petrichor mush weeping into the untended spaces in our chests

a woman with a mouth like a carp,

gulps down cigarettes like little white mints

clouds smear into sky around the restaurant

a dark breast pushing behind it all

the edges the smoothed sheen of a spaceship wall

it was going to get awful

for a long time

almost like all this light is a waste

Another Old Poem (2012)

 LIMINAL

there are no poems tonight

pink sky cloud pink nipple pink porch light

so nice to be and not have been

to not have to go

ANOTHER FOUND POEM - 2005

ACCIDENT STATEMENT

I ordered a vegetable burrito with no beans.

She asks, “just the rice?” I say yeah, meaning

a vegetable burrito with everything except beans.

But they kept passing my sad, naked burrito down the line,

with only rice inside.

I had to tell the lady who adds the guacamole

that I wanted a vegetable burrito

so she could add the squash and red peppers - which she did -

and I took it to some empty part of the food court to eat.

It was fine.

However, as I was drinking my soda,

and my intention is not to make you uncomortable,

or get too serious in a poem about a burrito,

but,

it was the last sip of my soda,

you know the bit left between the ice

that you have to slurp up,

well, while I was slurping I remembered my father

playing dueling cowboys with me, at the bus stop,

both of us sticking our thumbs straight up

and our index fingers straight out like guns

and when my bullet landed, through my sites

his hand over his heart

as he went down

and I choked on my soda

like

a sonofabitch

for no reason whatsoever

but some guy,

some dweeb in a golf shirt,

saw me choke,

scowled,

looked away

and had no idea

I had a life before all of this.

skate rat cat

 

 BONK

for Meg

over the faucet gush

i cut 

broccoli

stalks bonk

softly

onto green leaves

skinned

and strewn

in the basin

Two Found Poems

MOUNTAIN AFTER BEER

the sky's particular sync

paused

near the horizon

a mess

all gummed up 

gory peaks 

pink 

entering pink

and like churning taffy

again

into itself

didn’t the cloud seam 

seem not there

an erasure 

gasp

the sky gasp

like a lost tome

and all the doom

there should be

with that

with what

OTTER CREEK 

dry packed snow 

stepped on cracks

like rifle stutters

in the muffle 

creek-smuggled darkness

it’s not that dark

the parking lot is expecting visitors

all that data 

beyond light

is impeccable