gardens: fires

How badly

we all want to be
forgotten in our beds;

stinking of our mucus, of our bones.

Wailing against the fires

put us out
put them out

Only we've created something
that resembles the lights in a store window
because it is airy and tangible

Everything so tangible,
to the point of being real
life.

only, the smoke makes it clear
while we crawl to the door

yeah,
there is some breathing going on
but I'm not sure where to find the grass

because I haven't seen it in days
so maybe

I'll figure

each of my toes is the petal of a chrysanthemum
and I'm me in there
and every other

equal as a garden

and growing out the window.


(ps: I liked this )

continue

I still want to get in a taxi cab and ask them where they think the ducks in Central Park go when it is winter.

The only thing that would be different would be you. Not that you'd be so much older or anything. It wouldn't be that, exactly. You'd just be different, that's all. You'd have an overcoat on this time. Or the kid that was your partner in line last time had got the scarlet fever and you'd have a new partner. Or you'd have a substitute taking the class, instead of Miss Aigletinger. Or you'd heard your mother and father having a terrific fight in the bathroom. Or you'd just passed by one of those puddles in the street with the gasoline rainbows in them. I mean you'd be different in some way-I can't explain what I mean"the catcher in the rye

just to see

I always check missed connections just to see if I'm mentioned.

Just to know if I'm really here;
I'm not.



I saw two mice captured underneath a plastic top. The same mice I see at the Newkirk Ave Q stop sometimes. I felt like I was the only one watching; waiting to make sure they could get out. Then I remembered they were mice. They are pretty smart when it comes to escape.

So sorry. If you see something: say something. I've been so quiet all day. Couple fighting on the train. Young man flicking an older woman with his cell phone antenna. The line being crossed. The line being broken in two.

I'd find some reason to uncover him

Doctor

This time it is real.

A sickness
contained within
the tupperware
of the lungs
and the ribs.

I am milking
I am mating
I am with the pack of wolves ripping apart
the remains of an elk
left splintered
in sinking soil.

I am awake. I see
the gloved hands
and where they go
behind the
cecum. The beginning
of all the
travels
of all the leftover
meats.
Blood on
my incisors
or what is left
from grinding.

The calm
they try to pump
me through. Get her
in,
get her full
of fluids. She
will be
the same
tomorrow.

forget it

Loud voices
sorry commotion

he kept telling me
HEY YOU HEY YOU

I KNOW WHAT IT IS TO BE INSIDE OF YOUR THIGHS. LET ME BREATHE INTO THEM. I WANT TO HEAR YOU MURMUR I WANT TO HEAR YOU SCREAM.

Terror
and where it gets you.

Fragmented or fragmentary,
the eggshell of comfort.

Sorry baby girl,
I'll ease into your mind
gently.
I'll let you know what
you feel,

as it is obvious
and it is mandatory

that you keep
quiet.

The voice will get nowhere
but deeper down into

your own
reflection.

forget it. drop it. pick it up.

Has it changed throughout all of this?




There are kittens in the garden a few houses down. This is the second litter I have met from the grey mother cat that sweeps around the chinese lanterns. The grey woman that lives there told my roommate that the chinese lanterns are mostly a novelty, for children's gardens. I covet the tiny orange globes, how fragile and dry they are now. I fight the urge to pick one. To validate them by taking them home. To take care and make sure the cat doesn't find her claw in their dusty skin.

My roommate has a basket of them in her room. Jealousy.

Smarty pants, you think you have anything figured out?

fragements on a kitchen table

Define it,
and you'll grow.

You will learn how to speak
the truth.

Somewhere deep inside
there will be
the cosmos.

It will all fold in
as a nurse could fold
the corner of a sheet,
tight
and seamless.

The fern has one new leaf,
or maybe two. But it can not
un-grow. The arrow pushing at
our backs.

But I meant to write about something else.

How did I end up here again
with science at my feet?