OverPoetry

though the father passes through us /
perhaps always a calloused ghost /
muttering from the back seat /
drawing the map as he walked /
hunched under low brows /
arriving at the bay with minimal scratches /
and a dry cheese sandwich /
smiling the further from humans and their split chatter /
things do not hold their meaning over time /
keys bound by a safety pin /
measurements in pencil on an envelope /
a bag of metal slugs from utility boxes /
pellet gun pellets in a saltshaker /
these things as heatless as the first true day of fall /
objects only appear with movement around them /
he was reluctant to celebrate anything /
knowing the world has a weight after us

gathering eyes all his life /
filling up pockets of air under the boat /
with grain counts on the beach /
names for every color of insect /
recordings of the sound clipping nails in Algiers /
numbering the rings of spruce trees before their cut down /
an eye for every occasion perched on his shoulder /
trained to comment after the guests revert /
the collection of eyes, uninheritable /
perhaps as bread crumbs back from hades /
seeing-eye doggerel lighting the way /
with unstained whites around pupils /
staring down into all continents for the lowest reading light

looking for man /
beyond the puff in the sky /
where the curious turn loses its speed /
what scatters under clouds isn’t always seed /
but gravel giving up it’s numbers /
all we have is separation pushing buildings upward /
welcome weather into the bedroom /
sliding under covers knowing what to take from skin /
the last man standing won’t claim moisture

when if one takes a two /
there be trim light /
on the ledge barking one offs /
where to be all /
should a time pause its sentence /
0 love, you are not /
the be weighing last week’s groceries /
melting down to a pause /
on every ringing finger

I count money with my toes /
because one is missing /
always rounding down /
so much is odd, nine places nicely /
dropping hailstones on stove elements /
there’s almost a scream sounds like /
a warm sizzle inflating a balloon /
your own skin burning comfortably /
in the deep nights of February /
a crackling beacon on the toboggan hill /
drawing the curious to a melted circle of broiled grass /
the fixed pupil on a snowy orb

thank you for the effort /
and comforting sparks /
from bone on bone /
the city’s blinking is dazzling at night /
sharp electric jabs emphasize the matter /
of all that unfolds below /
from crease to crevice /
where stars are visible /
and darkness, a place unto its own /
like inserting an arm into a long, empty paper bag /
the dirt keeps red after the sun ends /
humming with distant exploit /
Tantalus burying himself /
in the rich soil /
echoing with a mouth /
full of sod /
the final product as /
distant as a satellite

casual swill means type, type, type /
don’t pause the interruption /
this one comes from an organ /
and when the next movement /
disturbs scenery /
lack it all shall we /
tru to form /
the press crushes the shoulder /
used to nudge /
one forwards to an unthinkable two

a tough lip to chew /
saying what was last year’s code /
errors out after the kids wander away /
trying to be a store display /
but the mannequins refuse to take their seats /
sing to the sac slouching like a question mark /
in the middle of the page /
no words for miles /
just the folding body closing up shop /
after all the stock runs out /
but still your laugh that doesn’t cut /
rather balms unraveled edges of this form /
we carry together across the unlit parking lot /
towards the faint burning glow that ends today

dead on dead /
spray them with sweat /
to make it seem more real /
never file down teeth /
they may prove useful /
in twisting a phrase /
the skull is mottled /
but not a pattern /
recognized on t-shirts /
firing a gun in a crowd /
misfires now /
manifestoes blink and pop in the bunker /
no need for page numbers /
on a flat surface /
driving cars into the reservoir /
who discovers an emptied space? /
we are the first /
to do the last /
wait long for your number to be called /
’cause the mike was unplugged /
with a slow series of summer trips /
down the ladder

project to the audience /
if the afterlife is a consideration /
scratch missives on /
the inside of a used jam jar /
if there is only one moment filling the day /
place the rebar precisely on the utility box /
direct currents into the hurricanic eye of the city square /
workers are saved without notice /
their pace interrupted but but /
the world is replaced, renewed /
the performance can continue for billions of walk-ons /
onto the next earth /
rising out of wildfire haze /
time to make count of the pebbles laying /
the bed of the kenogami /
every sound is a word