Leaky Eye Valves When You Read

I look down Rudlin at the last of the sun
in the clouds above the buildings below
the trees as you let the dog sniff around,
taking his time. At home you and cat are
lying there the same, both voluptuous,
both content and not content, both really
loving me. You say you're glad she's had
a happy life. My olive arm is on your rosy
skin. We laugh, alone here as only we know.

For years I was a writer with one reader,
you. "I don't need to read books anymore,"
you said, "I just need to read you." And
then how my skin looks nice, in a soft and
quiet, peaceful and loved voice. Today I
say goodbye to the third person and accept
the fourth wall. Even drink water like you
now, in big gulps, wear your fur-lined coat
upstairs where I go when I go to write.


2011

Burn It to the Ground Tonight

Sunday news is the worst. Getting questions
from a hoot owl tonight ladies and gentlemen.

Prove yourself to me, be real with me, be
cool with me, play with me. Roll the dice,

move your piece. Tried to control it, fix
it myself, not speak my needs. The onus is

on us. In the end we played duo no-board
game show secret trust double-card Trivial

Pursuit, final answer is termites, final
answer is pelican. No I actually know, can

make an educated guess. Nope, I was wrong
wrong wrong. Is was and always will be.


2011

Castles Made of Sand, Eventually

What if there were caramel flowing like
a river? It's sticky and would pick up
all this detrius. Giraffes and daffodils.
Owlaphants. I don't know names anymore.
They're meaningless and interchangeable.
They could be anything. Like a good fire
rat in a tank. She made the best fire rat.

"Let's try and communicate using our eyes...
I see this big old rifle, double barreled
shot gun... I see you as a person, I'm not
making stories... I haven't blinked yet..."
Big eyes, like deer about to be splattered
in the windshield eyes. "Are you thinking
about other girls? Making music?" Only time
an eye looked at me, for me, so intently.

We fall asleep like accomplices in sleep
that first night in the new house. Then
the cat jumps down from the windowsill
upstairs late. I'm thinking something
is on the roof, not sure what upstairs
sounds like yet. We sit at the sofa window
making sure the town isn't circling us.

Remember that all this is happening because
we're more aware of our emotions, slowly
sewing the body back onto the head. This
needs to happen, these needs to be accepted.
You sketch a house after an earthquake as
Chile falls to pieces, scaring Hawaii and
the whole coast. The robins have returned.
You hear them like I heard them ealier.


2011

New Brain, Old Brain, Spring Summer

The days of half price baked goods Friday,
lemon square, Mississippi mud, peanut butter
and poppyseed at Rocky Mountain are done.
Now square pegs go in round holes, the
USB goes white-left, black-right. Jenny
sends a quick note at five fifty-five that
makes you cry. Catty's feet under the fence.

Forget about the downspout, the dirt by
the hose. Give her some turkey and she'll
sleep while I pack the stereo. Tumbleweeds
of hair blow through the empty living room
and you proclaim: "Dirty people live here."
I find the gold Chi pin, puzzle pieces of a
fence, an old popcorn kernel, some nuts
and this pen. Then I do indeed leave a
hole in the floor when I drop the box.

You wait by the flute and duck from
your lawyer, get turkey at the Roost
and fling buttertart flakes from your
'78 sweatshirt. The ladies take silver
in curling for Canada. I freak out
and smash up the kitchen trash can,
dance to "Blame It (on the al-a-a-al-a-
al-cohol)" and you put a wet towel over
my puffy eyes in bed. Neil Young comes
out of the ground singing, wearing white.

We watch The Descent with the lights out,
imagine a cave monster sleeping on the
book shelf by the aloe, hiding in the
laundry room. You dream your childhood
friend tried to kill you with a scalpel,
then get jumpy thinking the police are
coming to take us away. Faith takes Hope
to the hotel to catch her husband with
the Chinese violinist. I head down to
the hydrant and swear I hear airs.

Impulsive yet overly cautious, predicting
unrealistic threats to react to. First lives
and then souls on the line. You arrange my
Faulkners in an aesthetically pleasing fashion,
I keep Cornel West but let them take the rest,
eat cold pizza from a box on the ground and
chug OJ from the carton. Finally Harry Crews'
tattoo "How do you like your blue-eyed boy
now, Mr. Death?" starts to make sense.


2011

You'll Know Everything About Me in Five Minutes

I believe the battery is dying. What we have
here is a failure to, uhh, batterate. Hey
when you saw the driving car what kind of car
did you saw? I didn't really see a car, I saw
the road. I said You'll have to forgive me,
I'm a writer. Bird screams. Woman flies away.

Holiday House Motel, U-turn at High Street,
Trans Canada to nineteen north to four west.
We went out for a wicked salt cup and shared a
red wrap with fiesta cheese and bacon tongue,
saw pumas lap water at Shadow's and watched
the cross country kids, one with a crown, one
with a torch. The porch lions were together,
one behind the other. Boswell and Johnson.

When you're limited to your one road then
it doesn't matter if I'm the man who dipped
his fingers in the lake, or in the ocean as
though to stir it. When the world burns to
hell you'll be seeing that gorgeous napalm
until the big bang takes us from our living
sleep. And that's the real problem, we don't
dissipate. Nor make it easier on ourselves.

So go ahead and touch that lake with your life
if that's what you desire. If the sun's out, it's
quite pleasant, quite pleasant. We create, and
we revel in each other's creation. Come with me,
there's a van outside and we'll take you away,
you'll only wear this blindfold a short while.
On the twenty-fifth day they'll say what do you
remember. Say nothing... just peace and love.


2011

Are You My Baby Love Dragon?

It was the day they shot the spy sattelite down
that made you feel doomy. A headache that spread
into your whole body. We watched the yellow moon
turn blood red after seven. You said, "I am awash

with memories that take me out to sea. And we
float together there peacefully, 'Me' and all the
other 'Mes' until we remember we can't swim...
And then I panic until I realize I can float." We

caught the magic show at the food court. You
remembered the open market there before the five
burger chains moved in. At Zellers it smelled like
microparticles. You said I was your magic horse.

Waved bye-bye to Hillside, goodbye to plush turtles
and donkeys, changed our address twice at the bank.
I put Frogamander in the Dutch chair, the dog in his
cage. He raked his claws like a cup on the bars.


2011

The Five Obstructions

Cloud light through the transom
like whiskey from a wine glass
with my eye on celestial seabirds
making rainbows, not marking time.
From the doorway you said, "There

are some songs that never go away.
Like a photograph, like a book, a
possession you take with you when
you move. Some you leave behind,
Bob Seger is one I took with me.

Night Moves, getting wasted alone
in Tofino after I met you. Expansive.
Running on the beach, standing in
the ocean ecstatic. Crazed talking
on the cell, picking up hitchhikers,

some lady thinking I'm a mother
earth surfer, like I've been here
all my life. That relaxed and calm.
When really I'm just a hippie redneck
blasting Canned Heat on the road again."

Wish on a star, two names in a heart.
Finding love like peas in a pod. "And
if you don't like Walk on the Wild Side,
there's just something wrong with you."
Now to see what tomorrow will bring.


2011

Above Conscience, Below Conscious

You went to the back room with your black journal
to be by yourself. I put our song on repeat
and waited to hear your voice.

Being apart is harrowing, like having kids, takes
scaly skin like a Gila monster. The people who
do figure it out keep to themselves I think.

I was like a stone board at the sink, less man than
scullery maid, when you hugged me and said, "My poor
sugarwater, I'm worried about you."

Your hair was unwreckable above a white kabuki mask,
eyebrows bleached death maroon, lips black purple.
We embraced like moths, boldly and quiet.

I said, "Look Chrissie, I've been doing it this way
my whole entire goddamn life and it's been working
for me all this time." Except it hasn't, so

you started loosely on loose leaf, "Look Nathan,
nobody cares about us but you and me. Nobody
thinks about us. I am alone in this world..." And

it was all of it true, still feels weird seeing my face
so lizardlike and nerdy, yet loving myself now like
you loved me then. All the time and nothing more.

Straight teeth, lip curled up at an angle almost
like a cat, I said, "Those aren't bad terms. I'm not
uninterested, and I am NOT uninspired."

Later I watched you dig through the bottom cupboards
in black star panties and blue striped tank top.
I said you were in trouble. Catty meowing outside.


2011

Longing for Freedom, Joy of Captivity

"Maybe I'm dying. God, stop with the morbidity.
Am I so despondent with life that I think about
dying over and over all day?"

ten to four, five to ten, five to five
the saddest, soberist, most serious
thing I've ever heard said civilly

body and bones hurt from stress
bad reflux early that burned your nose
washing your mouth and gagging

"Paranoia?! Anxiety?! Terror?! Prostitutes?!"
you're in a good mood, I'm nonverbal
containing my energy to the room

you said in bed I was your favorite movie
I brushed your hair, you nearly had a headgasm
cursive looks messier but writes quieter

I long to run away with you, our shared
dropping off the face of the earth fantasy
and leave the rest of the world behind


2011

Blue Valentine

Idling trucks sound like water running
when you're up at four a.m.

I'm on about going away, drawing back into
a dot, shutting out all sense and thought,

you're off doing yoga in turquoise pants
and a black stitched nightie on a hot pink pad.

Then we watch stars to the northwest
as light makes lines on the closet doors,

me in my cords and cardigan, blue on brown
mismatched slippers, too cool for school,

your long hair on a square pillow.
The brown pillow with turquoise leaves.


2011

Better than Silver & Gold

White grass, sun through fog
clear and green along the edges

and I have so much love
inside just waiting. You say

Tomorrow you can have me
and How could I not want you, you say

Elephants are grand in Bali
teak tik kiki kaykay Kayla, then we

get Chinese from the new place, eat
from boxes under streetlights.

As we take the final corner I see
kids flash us the peace sign.


2011

What Happened to Me When

you were flooding, a black rose rising
driving out on the same road for hours
in the moment, in your body, saying

"Where was I? I was in here somewhere, in this
shell, but where? Was I somewhere safe or was I
terrorizing myself in some lonely, dark well?"

and you said there is nothing left, and put
perfume on a tissue, lotion on a pillow
so to smell something different

drew a sparrow in a curly, sturdy tree
ate cold pudding, sipped Coke from a straw
took the screen down and washed the window

I simultaneously forget and remember to forget
like Christ shedding the skin from his heart
writing now in a new way unused to pain

I woke late to a robin, your soul, singing
got out as the mountain turned pink
spent an hour alone in your words


2011

Natural Music

wind chimes blowing
always a different song
always the same tones

a gentle stirring
broad strokes
pin points

first notes unfold
drop like stars around me
close my eyelids

awaiting the elements
all vibrations open
here we come again

each other's whisperer
alone and apart
joining a chorus

I have your hand
we walk the path
I will not leave


2011

She Burns with Her Truth

never has noiselessness
meant such silence
that would overtake the moon

freeze my wings, stay
the elements, til the downpour
takes too my voice

never have you looked lovelier
than on Valentine's Day
squelching the rage

give me true words not nonsense
bring daggers if you must
thorns for a rose

and I will moan
your name, your name, your name
through fog and dust


2011

Egypt BC

in this corner
where god hides his eyes
and the lone ones howl, man

is made in his likeness
with two hands and
a dozen hours

is named
He Shall See What
He Shall Choose to See

he who reads hearts not mouths
loves peace not war, loves
more than he hates

but from a faraway land
so he may return one day
seeking forgiveness

Pharaoh mocks Moses
holding seventy million strong
says we shall see


2011

Random Melancholic

noninvolvement, the Prince of Oblivion
the great master at not seeing
comes out of the dark

let's hold an umbrella over his words
watch what falls around them
in the rain tonight

he cries longing craves suffering
and pride is like weakness
stealing the days

that we don't have to slide
as the worldbuilders did
from life into dying

give me peace now
forever for everyone
home all along


2011

The Twin Foals

silent partner
since day one

sisters by choice
patiently firm

thank you for pinching
and buttering toast

thank you for laughing
and giving her hope

thank you for being a
friend to my heart

the day is good
is going to be okay


2011

The Harbour

twelve blocks down the mountain
straight shot to the water
the final stretch paved and wide
a third of a moon winking me by

there was this seagull
and there were these signs, then
there was a ship
like a notch in the sky

the Panama Rebel's
reflection dance
below the horizon
above the lights

picked up where I left
and hit the street running
in February stride
these days in the night


2011

Tuesday, February 8

and then there he is
bald bearded Brother Nathan
greasy and foul, spouting
dyspeptic stuttering nonsense

eyes darting, cheeks twitching
smiling dead unsmiling falseness
visibly worthless, emotionally corrupt
always the layman the world around

still god grants me mercy, says
as only he or she can
you're not that important
even beasts not that loathsome

shows me the big darkness
where you and I are weightless
the other voices, shapes
holding no thoughts

the humble floating self
in touch with the One
compass point bouncing
and again smiling

I suppose the next evolution
is to become giant beasts, confused
trusting only one's own braying
all elk horns and shaggy necks


2011

What's Bought Is Also Sold

the big black bookbag
packed full from the shelf

titles tagged, pages marked
all arrows in one direction

the world's wisdom in certain words
recited, released and forgotten

is now breaking through my skin
shining out in all directions

as I count down the millennia
awaiting the next whim, and

study the landscape, watching
for new signs under heaven


2011

The Cracks in the Ceiling

I wrap my head in a towel
breathe through the damp fabric
slow my heart

sit on the edge of the tub
the lip of a clawfoot
like a highwire

I hear tightening and loosening
a muffled hum
the porcelain creaks

I am a child in bubbles
floating on my back
ears gurgling

looking at the ceiling
the dirt in the faucet
green and orange and white

the feeling passes
the water grows cold; I
lay the towel on my shoulders


2011

Beacon Hill

I saw you and said hey
if you get in my car
we could go

skip this town too big
these low lights
go higher

universe beyond words
shared experience
purposelessly on

melting and blowing
rows of explosions
two crowns

mute object of youth
fantasy and dream
roll me into the ocean

where hard carves soft
and hands weave
circles


2011

Possession

and every once
in a while I land
in the present

where I am blessed, no
endowed with
slackjawed optimism

because you chose me
out of all others
to love you

you let me watch you change
let me know your shadow
and hear it when you said

"It still exists: the trick is
to just move through it,
not fight against it."

and every once
in a while I fall
from those places


 2011

A Golden Thread

running through my back
and through everything

dangles loosely
delicate but connected


veers in circles
in the sun and shine

earthling luxury in the dust
freedom in the vernacular


it's luck I lack the stamina
to keep up that life

my bag of bones, my heart
tarnished gold


2011

Late Morning Duet

my love does yoga
to a double concerto

I flip sides; she showers
as the record spins down


last year's tree stands
still in the corner

we've taken off the bulbs 
but left on the lights


don't say a word, just
show me patience

the mail has come;
our message is heard


2011

The Town

we cut this corner from her flanks
to bring the farmers to market

the market to the farm
the day to an end


a valley between twelve mountains
feeding the land and ocean

where trees are loved by birds
and the steel and the ground


where long roads lead down the slope and
I can count on the silence

one approaches slowly and passes
turns someplace along the way


2011