Sunday, December 31, 2006


it all follows three
questions is longing erotic only if you want what is within your grasp
then is anything out of the reach of a good looking child
then Thom on the corner of bowery and 2nd
the two of you are....
would you let her fuck you

I shrug the skyline with my eyes
blaze a neon pink line across the top
the east side is my bar window
the air whiskey smudged
I shrug

it went out like one light
in a line of building lights
soft the sky gets darker

does the sky get dark when her
when one light goes to bed

with one other light

not you not you

a bar at the girl says
I saw you outside before
I almost crashed my bike
I tell her she is pretty when she smiles
we fuck on the street
it is winter
I have nothing it is what I want
we fuck in the kitchen
in the morning there is a bruise on the top of my hand
she says she gets all her tattoos at a place just west of the Chelsea hotel
she says the mailbox must have done that to your hand

it tails up my wrist
looks like a sting ray

we are in a thin bar
we stand close
I don’t lie to you I stutter
when we kiss my hat falls off
it snows inside of this

lilly lilly light I like you don’t leave me

across synapses lapses I sit in the living room on the phone
an older woman says are you hungry
she says you never say anything that means anything
tonight I am manhattan face

needle nosed neck bridge tendons
the east river my soft noose
I say I like to make people smile
she says that means something
can I see you

I am careful with one
in the dark she leans on me plays with my ear
holds my breath
there is something at stake
it is not but it is here
I want to say this is my favorite part of the day
instead I grin
let this weight itself-

there is a snowstorm outside
its sound is nothing
sounds nice

light reflects up light

the J train roars up by the window
passes disrupts and passes like rage
we all pretend not to hear it
my chest wells up looks at the ground
she walks around me in her underwear
her legs read the newspaper on the couch

I know
I look the boy she wants
sitting hunched elbows on knees
limbs a little too long
bed head bent hung on the phone
talking about dogs and war
looking at her

she circles last night
we leaned in together
toes v-ed in torsos arched in heads pillow two
two halves of maybe one heart shaped body
turned in on one another
I did not
because she wants
her shirt hands off her shoulder
her shirt hangs off her shoulder
flowers on her underwear
the j passes again slower


the night does not get light let light
and the one in the building does not go out
cities stay same similar shades it is here
never out I know I learn

if she turns it on she means you small fool
don’t be- dumb light up what she’ll let you- small child
don’t slight the arched out

don’t slight the arbitrary slow
slight night


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