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Issue: Griffel #1

NIGHT WATCH OFFSHORE

  Another watch this one evening to past three am so darkness mostly, distant refineries flare.… Read More “NIGHT WATCH OFFSHORE”

WHAT A YEAR AGO WAS THE WISH OF SCI-FI

  Time circling (scurrying) for one of these towns  with low hanging green clouds for a sea wall.… Read More “WHAT A YEAR AGO WAS THE WISH OF SCI-FI”

GCITY

Another version of me you want         me to come there so we can drink sugar in our milk before going to bed.… Read More “GCITY”

Unexpecting

        Nathan didn’t understand.… Read More “Unexpecting”

AT THE MUSARIUM (44)

[24001 – 25000] Cycling the rutted Yangtze, Saint-Pierre of the tinfoil sauerkraut is flung against a low-pitched abutment, carapace un- damaged.… Read More “AT THE MUSARIUM (44)”

Pace

This afternoon, while our daughter was at school, Margot came home early.… Read More “Pace”

beyond and across

almond hair.… Read More “beyond and across”

MARKET IS MISERY

– value is not a        number or a stock market value is a body a mess.… Read More “MARKET IS MISERY”

GOD DG ODG O GOD: what is god

sky softly closely/ closer than close/ warped and pure/not like you’ve had before/homebound onion soup/8+ simmer/steamed face/a family/ vegetal belonging/the other side of fear /let          go/the quality of being with/not the sex but the rattling underneath/eye contact with yourself/the transfused water/the basement to your cum/necessary wilt/the moment you get yourself back tiny non-linear vein-diagram tiny tiny gender tiny tiger balm tiny yes tiny until tiny calls u by ur real name tiny until not tiny until everything tiny is a tiny pore punched in a sunset whatver language taught you to breathe again

peace is

transversal masturbating, wound as lube lathered topical saturdays taken off to fuck the parts of me i hate.… Read More “peace is”

mollisol

i remember trailing behind you on bike rides follow following the calendar of your neck the cadence the carabiner the culotte the keys hang from you like loose grapes and the sun shone through your two thighs and i let you lead maybe just to watch the medicine slide down you and transmogrify god and my heart used to blow open after you sang and pointed the rabbit shadow shape in the moon and we scissored in a golf course west of the city and you said my name like my mother did like the one who first pushed me now i use my air to hold in case i see you and your name was my favourite prayer that eventually became a bog that eventually became its own body i had to carry around and feed and i got a grief tattoo on my bicep last week and cried the whole time because you danced danced you danced in me with every poke you swept my clavicle with a glossary of what we aren't and i saw you wishing me well and its true you are body i carry loose grape blow west bog hang hole rabbit dance bicep medicine that i carry around now and it’s true your name was my favourite loss

broadcast news’ vomitus coverage of broadcast news

They cast the first stone chop it up and snort it Give me a feeding tube Fill it with disappointment I will miss me most of all Old bearded fender Thinking is never enough My motives are more important than your motives The other candidates say I am fine My blood is green, what does that mean?… Read More “broadcast news’ vomitus coverage of broadcast news”

Grand Canyon’s 3rd Visitor Death in 8 Days

Trying to fill in the holes with meaningless things   Flapping to regain control of what will not hold And on the 8th day god said, “Sure, why not?” And you plunge on, not to rise, but settle in To a bleat you will never fully bloom And your plumage will be one for the history books They never write or never hear of you again The earth needn’t do anything for us to die by its hand

Write Ugly

Untie, Chuck Molten, the sailor’s knots Of your thick hands and—from the pocket Of your lemon-yellow ski-jacket—throw Out again the wrinkled dollar bills to pay For coffee in Fresno’s Olive Tower Café Some lost day in the 1980’s of my youth.… Read More “Write Ugly”

Catching

The coach sent me behind home plate, Had me crouch and catch for his son All through the warm-up before each game.… Read More “Catching”

Blasé Nestlings

That nidus, that beak-woven bowl, built quickly of gathered twigs braided snugly under and over rhododendron branches, looking to all like hundreds of dove claws gripping each other tightly…and brown.… Read More “Blasé Nestlings”