"no dogs allowed"

i am the dog & all i want to do 
is eat the red moon. they say it is
full of nectar or blood. i go to wake up 
your box of hammers & it says "why why why." 
i want a lover who will cut me like a mango or at least 
hunt me with a bow & arrow. i appreciate sportsmenship.
no one is a dog anymore but me. it is difficult
to not feel alone when the planets are 
taking their own lives one by one. we all do
what we have to do. being a dog is also sometimes
very beautiful. i ran until the earth was an apple tree.
i came home & kissed you. cut off my tongue & burried it.

internet family

i swallow the ethernet cable
to talk to my real family. i am fifteen
& sometimes i watch the moon turn into
a centipede. i sleep as little as possible 
&, because of this, my skin feels static.
flickering in & out of this website.
my family all have Xs over their eyes 
so i can easily click away. minimize window.
goodbye mother. goodbye father. save as is. 
i want to come back to my body after i've had time
to consider its use. family feeds me promise streams:
grease & synonyms & illegal. a tiny tiny fire. 

orbit 

tonight everyone is on fire & i am thinking,
do you love me or do you exist & i exist
& do we sometimes cross paths? i am convinced 
we have sacrificed all the fireflies this year. summer is
building obelisks on every street corner.
the lanternflies are trying to find home. we don't hold hands
like we used to. i miss being tethered to something.
consider the dog collar i bought myself 
& how badly i want to be walked through a black hole.
come out on the other side still yearning for
all the softness i can't seem to get. we finish 
our circuit. the sidewalks have crooked fingernails.

temperature play

i want to be fed plates of turkish delight.
lick sugar quickly from my fingers before 
it turns to snow. i hold autumn to my skin 
until i am your goose-fleshed lake. a box of inferos 
lives inside my bones. you reached deep 
to pluck a match & strike it across my chin. 
poles are melting quicker than when can put on our shoes. 
the door unlocks itself but that's alright, we no longer
have parents. i have spent so long sleeping
in the hallways of the world. broiling summer
parking lots. an ice cube from your soda cup. 
melting in your hand & then pressed into me.

the weight of elephants

in the field, scales grew like lungs.
we came each day to weigh this against that.
a pair of shoes against a crown. snake vs. belt.
my life is full of such hungry dilemas. i carry my heart
like a briefcase full of pressed flowers. 
everyone is on fire. today i am calling the tax god 
to admit the number of days since i last tried
becoming a bird to escape. an elephant walked into 
my apartment building & i explained he was fine by me 
but the landlord would probably make him leave. 
he pleaded. i fed him potato chips & he talked 
about the safari & destiny. he weighed as much as me. 

funny bone

knock me until i billow or bust. a brick 
is a portal if hurled at the right mouth.
the gargoyles tell me a joke about 
a boy who thought he could ride the stray horse.
the horse was a graveyard. construction trucks
dig up the street looking for an entrance
to hell. i say, "i have found it."  
laying on my back & letting the grass grow wild
& full of spearmint bushes. i wear my skin
like a shaw. crave something shiny & beautiufl. 
shop online until the moon is static & fading. 
gods, asleep in their arm chairs. i try to laugh it off.

antennae farm

i touch the air to feel for predators.
people who were supposed to love me
have hurt me the most. i grow predictions 
on a shelf in my closet. anything can be 
an altar if you are in need. often spirits stand
on my head & remark, "you have died so many times?" 
i shoo them away like gnats. i don't want to be reminded 
of where my senses go when i lose control of them. 
hear a helicopter of mice above the city then goldfish
talking about graveyards. on the windowsill 
a necklace of ants marches like a seam. my body taught me 
to be terrified of the world's breath. 

rubber duck

i said you could call me as much as you want.
cut a telephone into my tongue. you punched a hole
in your wall when you found out i wasn't home one night
& i thought i was going to be a bomb. in your bathtub 
you called me a pineapple. all the uses 
for a knife. sometimes i miss being 
the one who was eaten. how, in the dark, i could 
look at my wreckage & think "yes they were fed."
a friend tells me the bathtub is full of milk again.
there's an oil rig floating like a rubber duck.
it's pumping blood from a wound. i lay on my back
& wish you were here holding me in your palm.  

my brother & i killed god in the woods behind our house

we only meant to push him off the quarry cliff side.
he was laughing like a skipping CD player. fire pit eyes.
all night he chased us, asking for our real names.
sometimes, he was a mountain lion, on all fours. 
sometimes, he spoke in latin mass fragments. other times 
he limped like our father, kitchen knife
in his hand. a god is a pillar of fear. our quick decision. 
my heart a blueberry basket of no more. no more. we watched 
as he fell. felt terror & relief & what now what now.
in the aftermath, i always crave the trauma again.
thinking, come back & remind me what my body is.
because i am not sure. not anymore. maybe not ever. 

100% recycled plastic

i know this jurassic is a vessel. fern 
& footprint. all the oil in my blood
from years of drinking from petri dishes.
the billboards i pass on the way to confession
have a womb for pterodactyls. eggs in the fridge
dreaming of their factory mothers. more & more
& more. an arrow circles the world like a drone.
when i say "cycle" i mean winter is coming back
with webbed feet. we try to make gods 
of every convenience. once i kneeled outside the 7/11. 
once i ate plastic sacrifice. neon angels. fire blooms 
behind every shut door. today, it rains bottle caps.