

tau-gh-tyou are on one line, i am on the other, maybe it's the same line, and we are at either end of this long string, maybe we get tangled, in knots in knots in knots in knots in knots in knots in knots in knots in knots in knots in knots in knots in knots in knots in knots in knots in knots in knots ink nots ink nots ink nots ink nots ink nots ink nots ink nots ink nots ink nots ink notstau-gh-t


you in your mouthi am curious about you of course, i'd likeyou in your mouth
to know how many sugars if any, i think i'd like to know how well
done. but i'm not sure of course, if i should be curious (or otherwise)
if it is indecent
of me to speculate
ponder how much milk wonder what textures you favour in your
mouth
maybe i should wait for the situation
to present itself
rather than spend these days thinking about it


- go away -i am not interested in warranting dismissal. the seamless effluvial, exiting from distasteful lips; fluvial, moulding, melded into a cuneiform ripple of constance. haiku and rock carvings on your trembling lowest lip.- go away -
you breathe in the burning, and ash your silence as a distancing of favour, but i do not acquiesce into my abhorrence of your predilection. what's yours is yours after all - and you are what you cannot give up - burning bits of nothing.
we are immutable, unwavering - and if we change - it will be as if we always were. we do not remember the transitions, we only know of now. you breathe out in a st


you say helloof course i am a conversationalist i slip up on your fingertips and rush headstrong into devoid-of-careyou say hello
we shake on it
(the belief that we will
fall) so we take custody
of our fantasies (realised) before we, exhausted, exeunt


subconscious. You take offIt wasnt winter, and I asked a girl to help me pick up leaves in between racing through crowds to avoid how late we both were. I had only met her once or twice before, and I could feel my awkwardness betray my lack of ability to assimilate.subconscious. You take off
She laughed; we laughed.
Double-sided tape and permanent markers and scissors should be with you at all times: they make it easier to illegally tell the world how youre feeling.
How Im feeling fits nicely into peoples bicycle helmets, onto surfaces you drop your ash, buzzing metal a million people have pressed to cross this street. This city i


in secondswe move in years and exitin seconds
in minutes


i the lost aloof of breathi know my heart was lost under the door that night it rained pink and blue babies too and bruises i was sure the firmament would crush like all the lost pieces of paper onto me under mei the lost aloof of breath
i know my heart was lost under the door the morning it took two trucks to come and empty out a room doom was what i remembered with up down left to be right in an instant replay of being too small to ride
i know my heart was lost under the door the afternoon you wrapped up winter and summer in plastic bags just rags of years bright coloured and expensi


like burning meati have to get away from this absence of feeling, it threatens to size me up to shut me down down like a turtlelike burning meat
shelless and bubbling, waiting for a plate to rest its weary head upon
--
and we cackle deep crackling our backs like fried skins and snap like bones before spilling marrow all over fronts of clean shirts
---
the texture i can feel most vividly in my sleep is your skin
the smell that harasses me most nights, and snatches of day, is too


a caucus ona sure harbour of sandy emotion banked up, filling pockets with tiny bits of glass to cut your fingers on; condoms, empty chocolate wrappers, coke bottles or zip-lock bagsa caucus on
whorl on in thumb, tongue, paper in side of cheek and burning proper blue
smoke whirling after your goodbye issued


like crazed pensioners.last night i ran out into the night, telling myself i didn't know you, it was breezing tough, the trees were howling like fingernails on chalkboards, like biting down hard, acidentally, on forks. but i wasn't cold. i was angry-warm and i was crying.like crazed pensioners.
i often find it funny how perspective is so inaccurate. how driving daylight past these green slats piked into the ground to keep the children away from the world, you can see right through them. but here, alone at night, with silent bipedal action, i can only see through a few slats at a time. feeling barred in on one side, feeling shadows behind me.
sporadic bursts of l


Come Ridiculously CatchThe leaves dont scare me Im not afraid of the fallingCome Ridiculously Catch
Only of the impact
They crumple steady Kissing the floor
On silent edges
They feather inward Shaking to their veins Retract in gentle breeze
Come and catch them
Ridiculously like misers Catch them with me
question the fall
old buildings, they echo your
keep your eyes down low, keep

exercise in contemplationOf course I felt sorry for him, how his eyes fell limp as soon as he heard my words, his cheeks lost wind like sails dying on a motionless horizon. How long the night would be, how far land would take to be in sight, how far away a warm meal cooked by loving hands.exercise in contemplation
I cant stay here anymore.
He trudged ahead, eager to cancel my words out with the night air, mixing his breath and cigarette smoke into the February twilight. Acting as a bar tender, frivolously chasing the cup with his thin fingers, cigarette superfluous in one hand, dancing a maze of ribbon twirling, and your eyes follow on entranced by


general statusi oppose myself, just as justice finds no flatterygeneral status
in freedom, i acquiesce
to tv schedules.


drive-byrain scatters like marblesdrive-by
heart swims snug in fish-bowl throat
wondering
would you help collect them before dinner


sedate seditioni wonder what it means to the few of ussedate sedition
--
wish you had washed yourself clean of me a long time ago
don't you
--
turn the page now roll it over and over in your fingers lick the edges light it up and breathe real deep like a kid watching a fire engine bleed past the window when his mother stops the car.
--
exhale me like a sieve full of beans


ma-doggive me a piper, judasma-dog
i'll give you a coin and you can tear a page out of me
your children, nestled warm inside your paranoia, smile with the fervour of television
(i do not meet them in the present)
what are we but unsung hearts?
harkening to a flame under the spoon


is youri know that i am effortlessis your
and i move
from cup to cup downing each with a
fervour of the battered hot.
but i do not take what is not offered.
but i do take what is not offered.
and exultant beaming to the skies a shining goblet of desire
your christ-king is also always your judas-priest.


believe bend crack, stutteri am never really particularly impressed by jerusalem.believe bend crack, stutter
lips cordoned off between the dairy and the bread
although i have never been an avid fan of nests -
leaving mine the earliest, and further for the
worms. i do believe some twigs bend more than
crack, and neuroses stutter through in busy dial tones.


always changes and never doesthe girl on the bus with her head down and filled up with notes and notationalways changes and never does
is inversely proportional to
the woman in the cab who does not think she is, and never will.


with pillow hills toomake this bed big make it so i can actually get lost in it not just figuratively not just in a dreamwith pillow hills too
make it so you follow me, so that you try and run after me, make it so you can only catch me if i want you to
and make it so when i tell myself to wake up, i do.
but first, make this bed big like a forest, like a skyscraper, like a sky scraper forest, like a forest full of skyscrapers, so that waking would be, just the same as dreaming, and i would not feel so bad when i'm missing out &