family and friends (ending stories) (never ending stories)

Spinning inside

effectively, they say,

she went to sleep
a long time ago.

I don't know how long it was
after I stopped visiting regularly

(you know kids don't give a shit about old people).

-
I still see her brother from time to time
and he is a Man

so when asked, he gives her status
with a face as steeled as a furnace door

I am confused by a code holding that it is not okay
to cry for a woman whose eyes pass from brother,
to child, to grandchild, to purse, to table
with the same staleness

-
I see her now,
skin that can't connect
to where its lines come from

spheres with only broken air
spinning inside
turning

**********************************



kristina

the last time I would ever speak to her
I was so angry

she didn't understand
or I didn't understand
(one of us...)

I was leading ("leading")
a meeting
discussing freedom of speech.

How could Imus
be allowed to say such hurtful things
and escape unscathed?

She told me
that she didn't care:

people were going to say what they wanted
and she was going to do what she wanted
in parallel fashion

'you can't cave for one word
because there is always a sentence
dirtier and sharper than what preceded

and you'll inevitably, eventually wind up
crushed at the bottom of their deluge.'

The anger that I thought was righteous
looked so...it looked like whiny paper

when trying to push up against her face
serene, planted
-
The specifics of how she lived before, what she decided to do after...
I couldn't begin to wrap them.

but the definition of that moment
will always sit as my image of her,
and a lift in my mind

**********************************



turning

there is a forest sitting inside
he has been chasing himself
for so long

I've watched as leaves have fallen
off of his crown

exposing the bark,
colored dark and burning
like the bottom of a sea
sickened with history's refuse
boiling, crushing pressure
who could clean here?

the fungus sinking and filling
the lines in his face

I cannot help him.
I cannot be near him.

the things he says
under the influence of his garrote
have proven far too noxious
for me

his words
far too ragged of a saw
that spares no marrow

all I can do
is hope that these wounds do not become infected

I am sorry, brother.

*********************************



I know what you said after I sent you this poem, but I still think you should have a baby any way, just in case.

Dan, this poem isn't near finished:

we raced to Jesse's car
trying to get shotgun
and somewhere along the way you slipped
and ended up hurtling full speed
slamming against the back of the van
with your entire body
like someone had punted a football
point blank at the tail pipe

you got up laughing,
you Greek statue of a nymph
ayyyyy, it's okay

That is you

That is always you,
we think

which is maybe why
we end up laughing
after a real stain of worry
fades across
thinking about the marks on your jaw

can't help but think about 29
chicago public school students

poems about them
always seem to get outdated
so fast

dan
you move
so fucking fast

we're still kids
God has slashed
dents and pockmarks
into our hearts
already

but not enough to where
we are willing accept
that (S)he might actually
stop one of them

so hahahahahahahaha

anti-/"Do you wanna come out, and explain THESE NEW SHOES?"

ahhh, I keep changing shoes
to show my maturity
how responsible I have become

those ugly black ones
to the gaudy pink and blue Filas
(telltale signs of a baby boy trying to make himself
UNIQUE, etc.)
to the white and black Filas
to the gray Timbs
and up next: the sensible but stylish b/w supras

see, I have grown cooler! better!

but really, I keep changing the prints
while the whole time, the trail is still there, Emanuel! the trail!

just because you put those ugly shits in the closet
or threw them out the backyard
doesn't mean that what they crushed in your dance still
isn't lying there bleeding!

the pictures are there, and every pall
you try to cast over the exhibits
in the guise of time or midnight pledges
just fits to their form

an extra layer of proof

shaking its head
rattling
and scratching

an extra layer of proof:
yeah you fuck up, son.

I have these new Timbs though
and I step through dirt and mud and snow without a problem
coasting

With a Rusting, Dragging
tagged on a few footprints behind
(*hungry and gaining)

waiting for my smile to get so big
that it tangles in my stride.

and when it does...

well. karma collects interest.

oh, it will put it's hands over every fading little stain
and conjure them anew like atlantis of the flesh
mutated and nastier than ever, made of blades and mirrors

hooking because I know what I did I know what I did I know I know
I said I was sorry I just really don't know what else there is

because shit, what you said to me, I never would have said to you
but then, what I did to you, I never would wish on anyone

much less someone whom I "caaaaared" about. but I told you! I swear I told you, I was unfocused, unreliable, I told you this would happen!
I I

still tore you.

can't apologize a plague away
much less one lit by your own tongue

I swear. I will never let this happen again. Please let me go. Please.


________


*I wrote this poem before I heard the song "Porchlight" by Neko Case, but looking over both of them today I saw a lot of her lines speaking to the same thoughts included in here. So I consider them complimentary.

para ti

yusef lateef. the plum blossom.

ahhh

just let it move
like reef

your fingertips

let them brush soft across these surfaces
picking up their textures

maybe scents of them
will be in the ranks
when you next exhale a chorus of your own
()

for the next time you hear me sing a song:

just know that an ink outline
of you
is printed inside my cheeks
reaching all the way down

8

you push these steps along

changeling

you don't know

she would soon be resigned by gravity
the weight of small paint handprints
pressed and smeared across her skin

like hexes
of domesticity.

she lay in bed now, eighteen
thinking of this future
wondering how many little treasures she could leave for herself
while she was being pulled down this shaft
rope wrapped tightly
around her waist, her hips, her ovaries

steadily grinding wheel

to capital LoveCareerResponsibility

she rolled her eyes
and sighed

___


___

cut it outtt!

I watched it, coming
but it still hit me so fast
right in the mouth

I heard the light slap
of blood hitting the wall
and when I could make out shapes again

I stared at it
dripping down

and rubbed my face in it
and my body
and was so sick
and it was everywhere

and it was something
that I could coat myself with

nothing else
seemed to want
to have anything to do with my skin

so I'll take it

___


___

a poem for alex, or for Anyone

I am holding your hand

More importantly,
most importantly,

you are holding my hand

we are staring at the ground
waiting for it to bubble up
spit and slide apart

burst open like a shell
like the shell we've always hoped it was

and we can dive away from the feeling of worms
(feelings of worms)

and pour ourselves into it.

It will be like a strainer

and our clothes, and bumps, and homeworks, and
sorries, and every tongue that made us feel sick,
and every day of standing still, and our Hers,
and our bottom teeths, and and

can all be left sitting on the upside

beneath it, naked of all those crushing breaths

we will wind and flip through the veins
stretching our very own contrails
as far as we ever thought we could

and it will be a burning of More:
like thirsty flares

we will twirl and speed so fast
that I will look over at you
and all I will be able to make out
from the color and the rush

is a smile, hooking so far wide
I'd only seen demo'd before
in tickle fights

oh these canals will be so vast
to screech and flow through like air & our
reaching lungs

a pillow for the brows
to finally relax on to

a space
for us
all of us

chemical(s)

never down

he got up
blasted onto her face
she shot juices on his in return

it's how they do

they go out the front door
faces and mouths dripping
telepathic headbutts to all who gander
gawk
especially the kids

Fuck the children.

they went through town like ghosts
unfettered, floating, fly
nodding to the ones who knew what was good

;see you later;

they stopped by the office
put their hands up, their eyes into the windows
so they could see all them fools
hardening

he and she were play'doh for life
were trickling snot for life
sick. nasty. natural as wind.
inevitable. and there whenever things got too cold

to remind you to guard your grill.

the sun set

Fuck the children

the sun set

Fuck the children

the sun set

;Yo.;



they partied so hard. partied so damn hard.

he was glimmering, sparkling to her.
she was flickering, shimmering to him.

_


am I ulysses? am I ulysses?

"no, but you are now, boy.
so sinister, so sinister

but last night was wiiiiiild"

I have never thrown up substance a day in my life
a night in my life(:)
I just lay, swirling
watching bodies beat and fuck

cut the bottom out of my red cup
and look through it
watching bodies
behind me
next to me
in front of me

isn't that all they ever do?

It feels like I've just been waiting to be told to stop holding my breath
waiting for the coil in my throat to unravel
but it just slides deeper
tightening its fingernails

the smile I see in the reflection looks so silly

_


morning

the wetness, and your breath
on the side of my cheek

it is one of those mornings:

we came out, and the sky was shroud
gray, moist all over

I always feel like I'm catching the world in the middle of something
some gorgeous transformation,
and then I fuck it up by looking too soon

I told you this, and you laughed
and you put your hand on on my face

it was cold from the grass

and you drew a line down,
a crossing swoop

a smiley face of water

"you baaaaaaaaaby"

lying there, the sun began to peek through clouds

and despite the scientific, logical reasoning
I had been weaned on through my late teenage years

I felt the change I'd been imagining in my head for so long.
it was all together
I felt drenched
I felt everything slide in perfect
like our fingers

that morning,
I felt the sun
and it felt just like you

_

attachment(s)

Fire warms! Fire burns! Ooo! Oww!

I will take these black marks
over milquetoast on absolutely any day

So do not worry about me.

As surely as you did,
I chose which Shit I wanted to ingest very carefully

keep that in mind when we talk about these things.

____




"I mean every word I say in my poems"
I said
"I know," she said
"that's the problem"

It grows deeper




__

gadget marrterr #1 (aside)
I do not nod to most of my classmates
when I see them
in the hallway.

When I see them smile,
it makes me want to die for them

______




sorrrryyyy, I'mmm goingggg

Maybe he & she
see us
like I see my afro
Understanding: it grows deeper!




__



gadget marrterr #2 (aside)

I think my best friends can do anything
y'all can have my life



__



Sorry? No.

We are on the couch.

I look over at him
seeing if anything comes.
It does; a Little Warmth meets me
and spreads in my chest,
as I smile
and crawl over to him.

I place my hand on his thigh,
and kiss him on the neck
trailing to his face, his lips.

His hands take a second,
and then start touching.

I press myself against him,
giving all that I can tonight
to make up
for all the days
when I look at him
and feel nothing.

___



Help? No. (bursa aspirations)

I will not put my hands on you.
Even if I wanted to,
I would only get kicked in the teeth.

I will not put my hands on you.
but I will lay them here
for you,
like a towel.

(I chose very carefully.)

__