Monday, January 29, 2007
Love Them
he stands next to a boy I love
silent to all those whose ear he is not yelling in
I see him only sometimes
danny's man follows him through the winter
and so we live in the unspoken fear
that sadness
is not symptomatic
that it is in fact
the man
she swims the rib cage wave
lung ocean she is not scared
swearing to god
life will be better
if I move everything in the living room
four inches to the left
happiness like the heart
is so dissimilar from the way
it is drawn
I tell danny it is almost romantic
like salt and water on skin
and she always gets there
to the planet just a little to the
left of us
beating us alive she says I am numb
she rests on its soft beach
and he drowns the man at times
and there is a disposable silence
the unnoticed kind-
ness of peace
of mind and
no storm to push her from
one shore to artery
to the next shore
no leaf to snow to fall to freeze the boy
and girl and I
love them
(note: jonjon? garret? mya?)
silent to all those whose ear he is not yelling in
I see him only sometimes
danny's man follows him through the winter
and so we live in the unspoken fear
that sadness
is not symptomatic
that it is in fact
the man
she swims the rib cage wave
lung ocean she is not scared
swearing to god
life will be better
if I move everything in the living room
four inches to the left
happiness like the heart
is so dissimilar from the way
it is drawn
I tell danny it is almost romantic
like salt and water on skin
and she always gets there
to the planet just a little to the
left of us
beating us alive she says I am numb
she rests on its soft beach
and he drowns the man at times
and there is a disposable silence
the unnoticed kind-
ness of peace
of mind and
no storm to push her from
one shore to artery
to the next shore
no leaf to snow to fall to freeze the boy
and girl and I
love them
(note: jonjon? garret? mya?)
Labels: Poem
Sunday, January 28, 2007
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
Monday, January 22, 2007
Baby
late at night
I watch sweat
wash ink from
skin like cloth
where I made marks
or pretend these words
were tattoos turned to scars
that might’ve locked
themselves in
when I wasn’t looking
sometimes I picture
your stare into walls
when minutes pass
but hours don’t
the plaster and sheet-rock
paint layers
of support and shelter
that would fall
from the weight
of all your ink
I wonder should
I pick up the phone
and ask you
anna
what’s better
a bruise or a scar
what if I would wake you
from frought sleep
the thought makes me
rethink the call
instead I see us together
on a porch
on the dark
laugh and talk in
side looks and smirks
how we smoke and scoff
pretend we belong to nothing
coming out to see us
black skies go blue
just then we realize
it was purple all along
stretched and stunted are dawns
we drink the heart’s liquor
passing words like pawns
between walls
while sighs and wonder
call the whores
whispering and touching
thoughts kissed and passing
through thoughts
with power
so silent it might be dismissed
like a river moving through the
fingers you drop into it
baby
you pass through my mind
like the air
in a hall
between high towers
where I could walk if
I could run if
I could pass the white light
of songs and obligation
beat this affliction
like it needs to be beaten
because words bleed beneath
and tonight your skin is tight
enough to change color
when it meets concrete
the river rushing into the sea
of ten million words
that would flood the earth
where you fell
-Danny Lang
I watch sweat
wash ink from
skin like cloth
where I made marks
or pretend these words
were tattoos turned to scars
that might’ve locked
themselves in
when I wasn’t looking
sometimes I picture
your stare into walls
when minutes pass
but hours don’t
the plaster and sheet-rock
paint layers
of support and shelter
that would fall
from the weight
of all your ink
I wonder should
I pick up the phone
and ask you
anna
what’s better
a bruise or a scar
what if I would wake you
from frought sleep
the thought makes me
rethink the call
instead I see us together
on a porch
on the dark
laugh and talk in
side looks and smirks
how we smoke and scoff
pretend we belong to nothing
coming out to see us
black skies go blue
just then we realize
it was purple all along
stretched and stunted are dawns
we drink the heart’s liquor
passing words like pawns
between walls
while sighs and wonder
call the whores
whispering and touching
thoughts kissed and passing
through thoughts
with power
so silent it might be dismissed
like a river moving through the
fingers you drop into it
baby
you pass through my mind
like the air
in a hall
between high towers
where I could walk if
I could run if
I could pass the white light
of songs and obligation
beat this affliction
like it needs to be beaten
because words bleed beneath
and tonight your skin is tight
enough to change color
when it meets concrete
the river rushing into the sea
of ten million words
that would flood the earth
where you fell
-Danny Lang
Danny
he belongs to the blue
that comes
twice a day
at once to wake
and then
to lull
the storm
last night
was so seamless
I could squint
and imagine
the drops weren’t
coming down
as if the lake
could
rain
into
the sky
driving down
Houston
we keep saying
how we’re going
to miss
this
city
but it’s
not the streets
and the bars
that will be
hard
to live
without
it is
this boy
who makes me
dinner
and stays up
all night
trying
to figure out
why it is
that I can’t
sleep
sometimes
when it is quiet
he looks
at me
and then away
and in his eyes
there is something
big
that always
makes me
small
not insignificant
just quiet
and small
at me
and then away
as if to say
there are battles
words
warring
with each other
as if he needs
a moment
to keep
these thoughts
from murdering
one
another
to stop
the sun
from
swallowing
up the
moon
I watch him
and know
all he wants
is to ask
the rain
if it could
rip apart
the blue above
and leave us
standing
in this
silence
in this
raging
calm
below
that comes
twice a day
at once to wake
and then
to lull
the storm
last night
was so seamless
I could squint
and imagine
the drops weren’t
coming down
as if the lake
could
rain
into
the sky
driving down
Houston
we keep saying
how we’re going
to miss
this
city
but it’s
not the streets
and the bars
that will be
hard
to live
without
it is
this boy
who makes me
dinner
and stays up
all night
trying
to figure out
why it is
that I can’t
sleep
sometimes
when it is quiet
he looks
at me
and then away
and in his eyes
there is something
big
that always
makes me
small
not insignificant
just quiet
and small
at me
and then away
as if to say
there are battles
words
warring
with each other
as if he needs
a moment
to keep
these thoughts
from murdering
one
another
to stop
the sun
from
swallowing
up the
moon
I watch him
and know
all he wants
is to ask
the rain
if it could
rip apart
the blue above
and leave us
standing
in this
silence
in this
raging
calm
below
Saturday, January 20, 2007
link
The first thing I asked KC was if his tattoos hurt. He said 'not anymore.' Chagrining. When we met he looked tussled. Whitey said I always wanted you two to meet. We had once before a year ago. None of us realized. Later I remembered how strange the stone dildos on his dresser were at that first party. And that he played darts and was very kind. Ultimately at first it was the drink that was our link.
Driving down main street in Maine the stone catholic church wears a banner on its black railing. CATHOLICS CAN ALWAYS COME HOME. I wonder if I should turn around. Brooklyn always seems much larger as you drive away from it. A bull’s eye that grows with distance. I remember I smoked a cigarette once inside that church and feel smug, push on around the corner through the blazing darkness.
He gave me my first and only bump of K and my first of several black eyes. KC and I were fastly together. I was cranky he would fall down in the street in the rain in front of cars to make me laugh. I busted my kneecaps in the subway station he carried me up the stairs. Halfway until he found a fire extinguisher and gave me a little motivation. Me sliding up the remaining flights on my ass. We were wild with boredom. We pasted out on our bellies in the dust.
MINE
If I had one
Regret
One sallow billow of
Dredge and smoke
This is fingers on the glass.
One hail
Of fire of hope
It would be I didn't spend enough
Crouching minutes
Crowded by your hands
This tasking split
A muted attempt
And screened
Flavored shrill
Shuttered night and
Silk fracture
We are the anatomy
Of the groove
These are the green glimpses sunlit on a swirl print we fall through.
One more time
I’d curve the caverns
Of your callous
Mine the rain drops
From the sky
(snow photo by AJ Ward)
Regret
One sallow billow of
Dredge and smoke
This is fingers on the glass.
One hail
Of fire of hope
It would be I didn't spend enough
Crouching minutes
Crowded by your hands
This tasking split
A muted attempt
And screened
Flavored shrill
Shuttered night and
Silk fracture
We are the anatomy
Of the groove
These are the green glimpses sunlit on a swirl print we fall through.
One more time
I’d curve the caverns
Of your callous
Mine the rain drops
From the sky
(snow photo by AJ Ward)
Sunday, January 14, 2007
if you had
the ability to forget everything would you? would it free you or would it destroy you? enter a slightly more enjoyable cliché from the Gaelic for "water of life"
Labels: Booze
Drink until you want me or the screen door slams mary’s dress waves
Like a vision
I grin when Katy
Calls me babe
Because she loves me
295 silvers its way up the white neck
Of New England chins New Hampshire
I watch the gray pools we glide by
Reflect blue and the clouds
So still if you dove in you might touch
The bottom of the sky
I want
Love big punch me love
Under the belly of union square
She is so bent on telling me of ghosts
She can’t see the bodies before her
I slip into her hand pull her down into the train
The 6 burns up the side of the island
Acid in the vein
Not the thick luck of
Blood and valve
I have it
At night
It is the four of us sifting in
Me Katy
Bird and no name the dog
At out feet
We pour up so we
Can finger tip
(photo by Alex A. aka Frenchie)
I grin when Katy
Calls me babe
Because she loves me
295 silvers its way up the white neck
Of New England chins New Hampshire
I watch the gray pools we glide by
Reflect blue and the clouds
So still if you dove in you might touch
The bottom of the sky
I want
Love big punch me love
Under the belly of union square
She is so bent on telling me of ghosts
She can’t see the bodies before her
I slip into her hand pull her down into the train
The 6 burns up the side of the island
Acid in the vein
Not the thick luck of
Blood and valve
I have it
At night
It is the four of us sifting in
Me Katy
Bird and no name the dog
At out feet
We pour up so we
Can finger tip
(photo by Alex A. aka Frenchie)
Saturday, January 13, 2007
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Night Moves
I drive mania
Me in Blue Thunder in the mouth of the beast
The fallen down day
Blue Thunder accelerated up hills me thumping
The break
Rocket as though…
Me slight and teenaged at her reigns
Teetered on a can of beer a dragged joint
I touched light that
Thin
Dream soft my always
Haley sky
Drive until the radio played a song
I didn’t like then turn the wheel home
Toward morning spasm
Skirted stomachs toward pavement love
Then Bob Segar or Fat Bottom Girls or Don’t Stop Believing and
Away again
Falmouth Freeport Falmouth Cumberland Rockland Grey
Flip the lights off over the thin
Plank bridge I knew so
Loose the wheels
Close my tight eyes over the ocean bridge
To cousins island
Trust beyond endest
Heaven nerves let go or maybe want as much as I could to die
And the road shudder cricket churn yellowed horizons
And I am
Patiently young
Pushing Thunder through
The showering transparency of night
Yellow and Blue apparition
(things get loud in the dark)
home you sit on the bed
painted yellow
everything your
sweatshirt socks high tops an oil spill
quiet light
the Brooklyn Queens Expressway snakes
neon vein dips the breastplate of my flat city
chests out the window just behind you
I wanted blue walls
like evening sky the color I
imagine thin trails of blood are
before a breath
you say veins are ropes
as though surprised we are bound up tied down by our body
you say they keep me on the boat
I wanted
blue
tiny blue
really for a falling
moment my walls
matching a shade of night
and so the illusion would be the shelter
slight
is what it is
to
stop me from
I sit in the sky for a minute
a self-delusion in
finite and warm next to the hissing radiator
you are yellow now grinning at me
a slick sun
I crouch for you
palm the wood at my feet
rough unstained
let my hands wander you they do when I am drunk
and with a touch trace
fingertips on accident fingerprints
across the room
small proofs
each frail swirl crime scene
you did touch her
evidence you
can’t stop they
start to look like footsteps
race a small track around
the squared walls
a room reaching its crooked arm
I paint the expressway on the walls speed thumb light
across the night
you grin again
I don’t ask for help explain
the warning a
bird without feathers
exposed explain
babe I do I slow always for you