for a house without remembering
i paid all my citrus
in the heart of squeezed winter.
all the gulls were frozen
like paper clips & we were just children
in our bed eating. folded covers
dipped in the mouse sauce.
whose brother were we fucking?
undressed him parallel. parked
a car in the old part of town
where horses still died & turned
into bar stools. i needed a real turn.
the kind that could do away with
everything useless in the atmosphere.
i took my place at the back
of a long line spilling down the street.
no one asked what we were waiting for
but waiting is worth waiting.
as for the house, i forgot
my gender in the basement & it got
covered in white-blue mold.
i'll need to throw it out & start
scouring clouds for a new one.
i have a problem throwing away
rotted things. once i kept
a melting cucumber in the fridge
in the hopes it would liven up again.
yesterday i was some kind
of husband to a clock tower.
cleaned her face with a blue rag
i would keep in my back pocket.
the day before that your guess
is as good as mine. linear is overrated.
i do know that in a past life
my knuckles slept so long
they grew a layer of moss. the line
doesn't move it just gets longer.
we think we're waiting for
a parking ticket. i'm not but they are.
the spring is going to be
magnificent or at least
that's what i have to tell myself.
maybe i'll be a grave digger
or a boat driver. you take out
your tongue to make room
for my fist. my fist is just
a kind of aquarium. i swim with
tuesday water. just like that
no line anymore. a direct march
up the road. snakes moving towards
the next moon. the moon is
secretly full of unblessed communion wafers.
i have less & less need for elbows.
tie my hands behind my back
so we can be evenly devoted.
you are all i need to keep eating.
i see your eyes peer from under the bed
& i pry another can of peaches open.
who is going to know what
we saw? you won't tell &
neither will i.
i'll cut the road in half
& you tie off the wound.