Poetry Archives Bio
June 26, 2019
3:11 PM
found poem IX or Pentametric

This is a poem that was suggested to me and co-written by Sophie Grace Shields.

To Ben Wengel

Divide the finished hash between the plates
Two mortgages  my parents  and the bitch

My friends can come to call for me at night
It's like his beard is pasted to his face
It's like a toothbrush in a charging cup

I want to taste the knuckles of your toes
I have been drinking large amounts of gin
I have to take a picture of this tree
I think I like this hall a little less

A phallic nose suspended by a crutch
Under the guise of looking at a map
I offered you to put stuff into mine
The penis is protected  do your worst
I'm telling you  stop mocking me right now

I swear  I saw you put it in the bag
We find a place that is not very far
My love  hand me my towel  por favor
Into their nylon prisons they depart
I had a dream about a maze last night
The water truck arrives at eight o'clock

At night I put the serum in my hair
I'm constantly depressed  she says to me
I like technology  but this is not for me
The kitchen's working in the dark for us
I like how quietly this feline moves
I want to take a picture of this church
These fingers  man  I like them very much

A system of beliefs by which you live
It's good to be confirmed in one's beliefs
The more I want to join you in the hills
I swear to god  I'll pull you off this bed
Are you OK with heading over there
Just fifty bucks is what I'll get right now
Look at that coloured glass above the gate
Humility is not a thing they teach

I want to eat your cheeks with butter sauce
I want to feel your tonsils with my tongue
Do you not like it when I touch your ass
How old was he in nineteen eightyone
It's full of characters I did not type
Do not forget the SIM card on the stand
I wish we had that sleep mask that you bought
You know  I used to hate to shit on planes

I've got a week of training in LA
We'll have to get more copies of this book
It would be bad for everyone involved
It's printed on the ticket  have a look
We've done a lot of travelling today
My nipples aren't allowed on Instagram
Tell her right now I live to suck your toes
I sense a hesitation in your voice
It must be hard for everyone involved
How did you answer him last night  I ask

June 22, 2019
8:25 PM
the threshold of happiness

To Sophie Grace Shields

the power goes out
at lunch

you never listen to what I say
she tells me   you're just counting
the syllables

I touch the spot where she'd bit me
it's turning my favourite colour

as from under the stairs
(or stars   come the muted
sounds of the world

i can hear mulata
barking outside

while inside   I tell the
three hundred dollar hooker
what I did on my summer vacation

I mow the lawn
I tighten the bolts on our bed

as i wake   bloodred marmalade
seeps from under the door   and I
spill out of her   ghostwhite

your toes are cold
this does not happen often
   oh is it raining

no   it's just a little
dirty   that's because

   we had the window open
   what time is it
six thirty   I told this woman

most powerful   I hold this woman
most beautiful

who nestles
in my greying chest
   we rest   I faintly hear

"unmask and then let's fuck
   what's left to be perfected

letters that I forget to mail
food rotting in a garbage pail
and for tomorrow's test

a thumbtack in your shoe
a reverie half recollected

7:33 PM
deep cover

the noise in this cafe
will stand in for my thoughts

I have two pens with me
one blue  one red

the blue will pass for black
the noise for silence

I have a notebook large enough
for this unwieldy task

and all the coffee i need
and all the time i need

June 5, 2019
1:37 PM
Dr. Daddy

To Sophie Grace Shields

she stirs th soda gin
with th stem of a pink rose

her imperious face
a flesh coloured house for thoughts

my life as of late is a view
sectioned into squares

I have you now
what shall I do with you

th animals watch us with empty eyes
each death an education

i wish to go to places
like the one called nice

(which rhymes with ice
not niece

from where to feed you morsels
mail you parcels

but no  th champagne cork
it breaks th chandelier

th snow is slowly melting
on the eaves

under this blanket
you're my ortolan

under these covers I eat you
whole  beak and all

it is most beautiful a day
all fathers are liars

as you exit th bathroom
towels wrap'd about you like cabbage

my hands are crab claws
you suggest  look up some greek

what's left  feet  tenebrescence
tales told by light

gilet de sauvetage
dans la console centrale

so sayeth th sign  so i resign
myself to travel binges

i want to change your oil
i want to oil your hinges

but how is the song of the thrush
to compete with the song of the locomotive

простите  как сказать
хлеб по французски

(this ought explain it
я хочу так много  но

she is a woman who knows
what she wants

and me  i was born

April 12, 2019
10:41 AM

To the Sisters, to the Aunts

The crow in the tree
Calls the waves to the sandline,
Splits the firmament.

When the blue divides
By blue, the shore fizzes, froths,
Shows its face to me.

All roads lead outwards;
Pause as you follow along
By the bungalows.

If it be cruelest,
This month, then what of the next?
Throw some salt, then spit.

Superstition is
Nothing to the fall of leaves.
When one snatches off,

Earth shudders to life—
The swallow will show the way
If you follow it.

April 8, 2019
6:06 PM
Nomen est omen

To Sophie Grace Shields

There once was a girl
Named Sophie-Papophie-

February 19, 2019
5:22 PM
Thought outspoken is a lie...

This is my translation of an excerpt from «Silentium!» by Фёдор Тютчев [Fëdor Tiutchev].

To Jon Kertzer

How can the heart itself express,
Into another ear confess
The means by which live you or die?
Thought outspoken is a lie;
You blast the earth and vex the source
—Now silence keep—and slake your thirst.

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