For You I Name This Orange

For Kat

There is some guilt.

People are supposed to do things on weekends
and
at the very least
they answer their phones.

I am choosing to do neither.

Your message is enough
and I am grateful
that you not only hope
I am already out painting the town red
but
know me well enough
to say orange.

Super Bee

Bare Surfaces

Winter's waning youth
is wearing a fresh scent
of pink and green.

I have found its odor
commuting and
radiating sex
upon bare surfaces.

O' a body aches
jealous when there is nothing
swellingblushingbursting
like an organic firework.

The Condition Is Called Napping

but without working
arms,
legs,
and mouth

how is a woman supposed to pass the hours
and
so
many
of
them.

Forgetting the Past, Moving On (2004)

It's jut not that easy.
The new is decorated with the past.
I am sitting on it.
I tell time by it.
The room is lit by it.
It is cleanly framed and
organized by shape.
It is collecting in cabinets.
It hangs neatly in closets.
It is this notebook,
a Christmas gift from last year.

My home is a fucking calendar
with a different object
to represent a different day.
1976,1998,1981, 2003.
Yesterday's mail.

My past collecting dust no less.

I can't tell you one thing
that represents me in the now
(not even this poem written 5 years ago now)
on October 10, 2004.

I've got this
but even this gets old
and even a new this
becomes old too quickly.

That's all it really can be,
isn't it.

This
This
This
This
This
This
This
This
This
This
This
This
This
This
This
This
This
This
This
This
This
This
This
This
This
This
This
This
This
This
This
This
This
This
This
This
This
This
This
This
This
This
This
This
This

It's a Perfect Day, Isn't It?

I agreed.

"I've worked hard all my life.
It was time for me to slow down
so I sold my car a few months back
and now I take the bus
or walk places
like brunch here on Sundays."

He raised his cane from the bench
and tapped the sidewalk once.
is wooden exclamation point
ended our exchange.

I walked home

but more slowly than

I had left it.

Dear Mathematics,

I've been reading all about you and have begun to wonder.
If I am just a number

am I whole or natural?
Irrational or rational?
Positive or negative?
Prime or real?

Do you even know that these questions
own a double meaning?

I worry;
once you solve this puzzle
I can be predicted.
Controlled and instructed to do something
more constructive than both you.

These sterile steps
of recognizing, classifying, and exploiting
makes you a difficult friend to trust.

You are everywhere and nowhere...
sort of like the image
some might think of as God.

Do you get that often?

Infinitesimally Yours,
T

A Girl Wants to Feel Special

He is an old dog
with too many bitches
circling his bed to lie down
and lick him clean.

Sleeping with a kennel
rubs a girl the wrong way
so go bury your bone
in someone else.

PKPCO2AFFFSTA5

"Everything Remains To Be Done"

"Everything Remains To Be Done"
- Godard

Who is the enemy?
Precise forms
or the
space
that lies between
them?

The business of living
is framed by
color
and the lack there of.

Between life and death
how are we to paint it?

Haiku (Inspired by The Names by Don Delillo)

I count my fingers
after I shake hands with him.
Stolen heart; what's next?

****

Herding grains of sand;
a fool tries to sweep a desert.
Leave nature alone.

****

Domestic forms of
assault; the agreed upon
reductions. Marriage.

****

You gave me a frame
glass free, backless, vacant and
doomed to hang condemned.

****

Curved metal and wood
the language of destruction
violates the ear.

****
Stockings. Whisper it!
The word is meant to be freed
between tongue and teeth.

White Knuckle Does Not Apply Here

Mine
are the color
and shape
of butter
rounded edges
and all.

Open hand
and it melts
away
to
nothing.

Navy Practice Injury Mask

Vaseline Lense

1.

Green green pinata
we hit you with sticks
until you split
your sleepy seams.

2.

You tell me Seattle...
I think wet eyed gingerbread houses,
waving pines, and peek-a-boo mountains.

3.
I watched your pincushion children
nurse boredom and deflate
like birthday balloons as they sunk
to your mossy floor.

They grew work hair
and slept in sequined
epitaph.

4.

Rolling Stone magazine says we will miss you.

Advice to Last Night

At each end of the line
there must be
a transmitter
a receiver
and some sort of signal.

Exchange when the connection is made.

Strangely
it is more complicated
than the diagrams leads on
Mr. Alexander Graham Bell.