Sunday

Ask Him.


I. Rest Easy

His shoes are clean
& what ever it is
That I find myself walking over
Does not resemble coal.

II. Public Service Announcement
Do not join the United States Army.

III. Public Service Announcement
Do Not Join The United States Army.

IV. Brother
“I’m going wherever Joe goes…”

V. Marc
Ask David.

VI. PTSD
Ask David.

VII. Marc has PTSD
Ask David.


We can’t. But, I did.

VIII. New Years Eve
We showed up yesterday,
& Jesus was in the room.
I missed His entrance,
but He saw me-
He put the felted womb over my head
& asked me if I was warm,
& did I feel comfortable?

IX. Dad came home
You didn’t answer the phone, so I cried.
You asked me if he hit me, but it doesn’t matter.

X. Stuck with the Animus
I am the old man you never got to be.
“When I was your age there were shapes.”

XI. Korea
He got hit by a car while crossing the street. She died in her sleep with her daughters around her, having been bathed and soothed. He got hit by a bus while crossing the street going to dinner. She sank to the bottom of the pool with her lover; there are bruises on her elbows. He got hit by a tree driving his car while he was drunk, there were four other people. He got hit by a bus going to dinner. They got frustrated and high, unaware. He was in my lap & told me not to tell.
A year before, she died in pool, just like the Pretty Girl.

XII. PTSD has Marc
Ask David.

XIII. Open for the Public
They did his make-up, rouged up and feminine. There are bruises under his eyes. The purple tarnished cells follow the breadth of his bare cheekbones.

XIV. PTSD
Ask David.

XV. Wise Cracks
We showed up yesterday,
& Jesus was in the room.
I missed His entrance,
but He saw me-
He put the felted womb over my head
& asked me if I was warm,
& did I feel comfortable?

XVI. “I’m not, ask David.”
He held our heads too tight,
He was drunk
& I cried.
& they watched me cry,
& he held my head too tight.
He was drunk,
& he told me to,
“Ask David.”



Jane. (A Response)





Tuesday

Italian with the Works


In this Public Place,
We gave you Dante
& Leonardo.

& for payment I ask of you
To let me dream of Roma,
& arrive in Dallas
For what could be the last year of my life.

Table Tops


Once I guided your hand
to my breast.
& you caressed me
in a salut to our patron saint
Praying for my paints,
& bouts of coitus.

I need canvas and wine.

Byproduct of Kenya


I want you to recite it through your nose.
Proclaimed and let forth from your brow,
In a single breath-
With the dust of dissonance
& Old brick.

Rest Easy


His shoes are clean
& what ever it is
That I find myself walking over
Does not resemble coal.