happy [         ]

we hired a live-in clown for the weekend.
arguing, we couldn't decide if it was
my birthday or yours so we both put on
the folded paper crowns & both 
threw our watches down the well. 
told the clown to stand in the hallway 
& keep look out for spiders. he did.
he was skilled & caught four 
by the first hour. you kept saying
"we should celebrate" "we should
celebrate" & i said, "look we are"
with my crown on & my bare feet
& my mouthful, eating sugar from the bag
with my favorite soup spoon.
i am terrible at these kinds of things,
always finding it good enough to be alive 
& have something sweet to suck on. 
i didn't know enough to realize
you wanted guests. wanted to invite
the sidewalk's benign ghosts 
& one or two bears & maybe even 
a singer. i could have sung to you.
i thought a clown should be
enough for anyone. he sat with us
while we ate but wouldn't swallow a morsel
despite our encouraging. 
he said, "clowns don't eat. it's not
very funny." instead he poured water
over his face & cackled &
slapped his hands. we asked if
he was from around here & he just shrugged.
you told him to leave early
but he held his fingers up "2"
& said, "you said two days." yes, 
yes we did. so, the clown laid 
taking up the whole sofa
while me & you tried to be festive.
blew up one blue balloon each 
& held them like swollen lollipops.
when yours burst, a beetle 
flew out & we covered our faces.
when the clown finally left 
we couldn't imagine 
the apartment without him. i begged
& you wept & the clown crawled away
on all fours towards whatever
vehicle clowns travel with these days.
our ages flickered like neon signs
above our heads & you admitted 
you never wanted to get older,
that you'd only done so 
to make me happy. 
i had done the same & so we 
fished our watches from the well
& tried all night to make
the other one laugh. no luck.
spiders returned wearing 
clown shoes. 
we couldn't sleep at all. 

my father builds an aquarium in the basement

fills it first with sharks
& then with water. carries the water
down from the kitchen sink
in his cupped palms while the fish
gasp & wriggle like door knobs.
i watch tv & dad passes back & forth
in from of me while the show giggles
& flashes color. 
my brain turns off easily anymore.
lets in whatever mouth wants
to take over. tv show about 
who knows but at least it has 
texture. everything in the house
is dull: knives, lightbulbs, even
sharks teeth. dad tells the sharks 
to be patient while he fills their home.
the sharks are smooth & 
when he's gone i hear them whisper
about escaping in the nearby stream.
i used to fear sharks
in all bodies of water before
i realized they're all trying
to escape their fathers 
just like me. i ask dad 
if he needs any help & he assures me
he has this covered. next, 
he lugs a huge bag of colorful 
little aquarium pebbles. i know
the sharks will not be pleased.
they are actually hungry
& don't want to be babied. they are
adult sharks & they prefer grey everything.
mostly, dad's projects are
his children. the habitat almost complete,
he sets up a folding chair
to stare at the sharks who cower
in the far dim corner of the aquarium. 
dad tells them they are cool 
& sips a beer for his newest creation. 
i glimpse this from the wooden basement stairs.
when dad falls asleep, i'll help
the sharks slip out the back door
& into the grass yard. blinkless animals,
i see my own basements in their faces,
pale with worry & sickly love.
they don't want to leave my father
when i come to collect them.
i knew this would happen & it's true
the aquarium is magnificent. giant walls
of glass. even a little fake sunken ship
for the sharps to play in. 
but none of that is why they want to stay.
they yearn for a basement. i tell them
the world is full of basements
but they slip away & i return
to the tv which has always known
how to cradle my worries 
until they're nothing but 
blurred & blue voice
beneath feet of water. 

water / ink 

the spill turned loon wing.
bled through a shirt. bled through
a brown paper towel. migration
cancelled & put off till 
another more promising blue arrives.
i'm a porch dweller. i picking
the heads off future dandelions.
my heart shed like a fountain
when you over-turned. o my vase
of lillies. o my brother blueberry thumb. 
blot the stars' tears with 
an extended finger. tear ducts
swarming the moon. glossy 
insect beating into a warm bulb
to make a nice red-splotch. 
pouring a glass of water 
into the carpet to help it drink.
the house is thirsty from years
of un-released gossip. tell me the truth
about the stains on the wall,
were you drawing war machines again?
everything can be drown. blurred down
to just the lines' mischeif. 
i get in a bathtub to watch
my colors run. take a book in with me
to drain words. only the water
grips the original close 
to her chest. warbles with it then
waltzes the final say.
i could be kissing you right now
& we wouldn't even know, would we?
you could be stealing my bouquet
of pens & i wouldn't even try to stop you.
the morning is coming too early anymore.
i ask for rain to smear 
the day shut. one day i will 
speak my name into a downpour 
& never have to worry about it again. 

unresearched birth control methods

the woman's voice de-scales me
like a halibut & peels back the skin
in search of eggs. every planet
is hatch-able if it found the right
crook to mother it. i am warmer
than i've ever been. i sit on 
the back stoop & swallow obsidian
to protect against futures. 
i'm testing new modes of evasion.
i cut doors in my wrists 
for the worms to wriggle their way out.
i used to try to stop loving prolific boys
but i've given up & resolved 
to make a knot of my body. 
i put a string in his mouth & say 
pull harder. use the spoons to spill
my guts like the ripe inside 
of a mango. save the monsterous seed.
hold in my mouth. teeth like church steeples.
every seed can be swallowed
no matter how thick. dig a whole
to fill with rinds. he holds my hand
like a necklace throat. i cross my fingers
to keep myself safe. often i pray 
into family members purses &
steal quarters from the walls. 
there is nothing holy about 
fearing vessels. my water bottles 
grow danger. ten fingers. ten toes.
a new fist rising from the lake's 
early spring murk. blue the mother
away with a tuning fork. my voice
can shatter any profession of love
& leave my in the ambiotic fluid.
he didn't understand what i meant
when i said i am the pistil. he
gets to just perch & look 
like a good wasp-killer. 
we must both be barefoot. he must 
close his eyes & forget i am 
just a jar of thimbles. he will prick
his finger. did i say thimbles?
i meant needles. the water is stocked
for the season. take a net to the shore
& sift for children. name them all
after me but leave me out of it.
tell them their father was a 
conch shell or a comet. i'll pass over
in 200 years just to tell them 
i'm not sorry at all. the chickens 
get up & move to the field
leaving their eggs to chill & sleep.
in the field they feast on remnants.
he drives home without a beak. 

this is fine

i was a dog in your burning velvet room.
sat still as a stake drove into the earth.
a house was never my idea. houses can catch fire.
i wanted to sleep on my back & look up
at the cold blue-black inflammable night.
if i had a say, we would have wandered
across the bruised fields & strip malls
talking about nothing but furniture & utensils.
will you be there to help me clean up
the ash? the flames will take longer
than you think. i decide to name them like
children. the closest one i call "yours"
& the farthest i call "mine." will you 
bring me an apology from the kitchen? 
i have no idea what i would even do with it
but i want something to sit on the table
to stare at while everything comes apart. 
you promised to remain in frame when they come
but then your took to the attic to chew 
on smoke. everything true rises too high
to reach. we will not be starting over from scratch.
we will be culling the dust for buttons. 
with bare feet i pace & feel the floor board's heat.
there was probably a moment where 
we could have tried harder to put it out.
could have rummaged in closets to find material.
dosed the fire with salt or crosswords or
well water. instead we stared like shadows
of ourselves. loved some of the flickering
& how it made everything that'd hurt us
true & tangible. permitting the fire, 
you promised no more weekends for us
& no more mondays & no more thursday evenings:
just a few ripe days to pry the lid off of. 
come back & sit with me. the burning
is more beautiful by the second. 
when it is over i'll want to see your hands.
i'll want to collapse into you & tell you
how scared i was to see walls crack open 
like a jar of red heat. when i do please be
gentle. lay on your back with me 
& wait for night to come and
sift through the embers. 

it says it won't rain, but then it comes

& i'm an aquatic mammal
with my wooden flippers digging for rush.
useless as my legs were 
i'm trying to find a synonym for running. 
drowned three times before midnight 
& each was heavier than the last.
there are different depths for different species.
i never wanted to be dazzling. the sharks
circle around my ankles like bracelets.
we all talk prehistoric & ask 
for each other's area codes. 
the world can go so blurry so fast.
drenched & no longer electronic 
i hold my circuit boards in my hands.
there is gold just beneath the skin.
wearing a baleen skirt i catch 
the future's dead leaves in my waist.
we should invent a song to nurture 
this gushing. or just a word that would
snake between droplets & find 
refuge in our ears. i dream of surviving 
when the sea levels rise. no kissing
on rafts, but rather evolution-ing backwards.
gills on chests. gills on shoulders.
sharp inhale between cloud burst.
i wore the grey dress on the day 
we no longer needed blood. carved a key
from stone & handed it over to a guard.
birds discussing other uses for feathers.
your face turned strange & amphibial.
no one told me it was going to rain
so hard & so fast. i would have 
cut an umbrella from the red. i would have
worn my bow-tie. give it all over.
i want to be so empty there's not even room
for a question. you could ask
do you still love me? & it would just
pass right through me. me, the swelling creature
making a house of myself. front door sore
from tredding water. just come in 
& bring fresh lightning with you. 

mice under skin

nice under skin. the nocturnal 
word from the curier saying
it's time to rice our eggplant
& hid the purple. 
time to tie the food up
in the tree so we don't eaten 
by hairs. all foot prints
lead to the crock pot.
i imagine an infantry of infants 
with all their squirrel fingers
& their rolling. push rodents
from cloud & hope they fly.
i sprouted one wind last year 
& severed it off for an entree. 
i knew nothing about warble
or chuck. just ate corn down 
to the marrow. god swept
each scull with the husk broom
saying: forget you were ever 
forget you were ever. 
i try to banish
sensations. shake my face over
trash can. squeeze out my hands 
in the drain: all strawberry red,
dripping like a goose neck.
but it always comes back. my face
crawls with currants. sweet little pebbles.
a webbed foot
opening under my breast plate.
can of quartz emptied across my thighs.
teach me to live like bed sheets.
i want to breathe through
invisible aqua & air. usher in 
my own naked ankles. mice in
the sky like stars. 
mice in the tea cup hotel rooms.
mice peering out 
from under my skin.

cer/vix

listen to your body
with the sea-shell hushing.
doctor men the size of ants 
climb my spine like a staircase.
you are invited to the party 
of concave & convex lenses.
i'm trying to narrow the image.
to see the world like my secrets might.
pry the third eye open like a walnut.
who rides & who is ridden 
in the stirrup kingdom. once i was
just a noble artifact & everyone
called me "sir" to my face.
now i go butter in the wind. i eat
with my bare hands & no one 
mistakes me for a gentle
man. i take my face off & dust 
the lining. wipe grime from grin lines.
everyone has a personal threshold
they are approaching or moving away from.
the doctor asks hot or cold?
he wants to know if he's getting close.
with my disposable camera 
i used to snap glimpses of god. 
blurred bright light coming
from a hole in the wall. glory 
to the gash where the birds forget 
their throats. could we take 
an endeavor all the way down to where
the sand turns to sugar? 
i have been giving all my syrup
to strangers. one man made a circle
with his fingers & his thumb
& said put it right here. i inserted
the baby blue easter egg. 
they find nothing but loose change
inside me. the closet exhaled
with relief & i look for websites
where i can give away my staircase.
rent it out to a nice girl
who might need that kind of flesh.
no. no takers. i'm too manic 
for my organs to be toolshed.
believe me when i say i didn't want
to have the doctors stay the night
but they told me they weren't done
so i made them doll beds.
i couldn't sleep with all their 
sleep-talking. one said apricot
& another replied she's not a girl.

sip / breath 

when the room fills with smoke
we punch our metal straws through the wall.
punctur paper to drink 
clean air. the last tree works hard
for us. toiling in the smog 
with its arms full of groceries.
the geese fall from the sky
mid-migration as kazoos. all we want
is a sip. because bedroom bowls.
because harpsicord & a sibling
riding the chariot home too late
from the empty mall. five dollars 
on the ground dirty from grit 
& grease. use the straw to scrape 
the layer of ice from our sisters 
foreheads. five in the freezer
waiting for good use. i need
another backup plan-- i spent too many
trying to find you in the murk.
i traded my lungs for tulip bulbs.
collected feathers for salad. 
we clutch our straws. some try
to drink dirt. tell stories that 
the whole earth is full 
of a great round whirl of air.
some dig in their yard for it.
hole after hole. trying to reach 
a huge inhale. they find nothing
but stone & sometimes an antique 
bicycle & once the corpse 
of a deer. no luck at all. 
i watch them but i don't believe 
in the air-earth theory. 
it's more likely we're just
the last of a last & we are searching
for a myth to save us. for breakfast
we serve air in tall ornate glasses.
i swallow slow as i can knowing
there will be no more till night.
i can never tell if i really
want a lover or if i just want
to put my mouth to their 
& for a moment glimpse their air. 
the wood peckers turn to light switches.
my neighbor thinks he's hit air
but nom he crouches, it's just
a birthday balloon. lifts the carcass
from the soil. i hold my straw 
& press it through the wall 
of my room. close my eyes 
as i breathe in. 

ribbed

i name the staircase in your throat.
hurry down inside where the shadows
are already starting. 
we put our fists in the handshake machine
& come out dilapidated men with nothing
easy to say. in the bedroom you are always
hard to threshold. who is going
to be the monkey & who is going
to be the thimble. i drink rain 
for breakfast & hollow out my stomach
to use as a future drum. farewell to 
the ridges of the obelisks & 
greet each doorless closet like 
an uncle. our families know nothing
of how we use our knees & where
we place the edge. i tell you
to twist the horizon line
until there's no telling what
is a hemline & what is an ocean.
spit a tooth in your palm 
for me to swallow later. i need a 
a location to drip. crave a huge lipped bowl.
on the staircase i can't seem
to get higher. take the banister 
& hoist myself onto the white tongue. 
we should have been moths 
or jupiter beetles & carcasses 
in the deep end of a blue public pool.
instead we were half boy half chronicle.
for this we can promise nothing
but friction. skin can become dragon
in the dark of another half boy's wanting.
we cut the clock into seven pieces.
one for each god. tell me again
how you earned your distance inward.
take back what you said last year
about my heart being covered 
in barbs. i have done the pruning
& here you are in my keepsake 
with a pinewheel if feet. i can barely
fit you in my snake's skin purse.