i can't sleep / i can't wake up

she rounded the corner. i was standing there with my weight on my good left leg, leaning my left shoulder into the brick wall of a so-so american restaurant. i didn't smile toward her but made eye contact and puckered my lips off to the left until she looked down at her shoes on the sidewalk. then i smiled. she rounded the corner. i was standing there with my weight on my good left leg, leaning my left shoulder into the brick wall of a so-so american restaurant. i didn't smile toward her but made eye contact and puckered my lips off to the left until she looked down at her shoes on the sidewalk. then i smiled. she rounded the corner. i was standing there with my weight on my good left leg, leaning my left shoulder into the brick wall of a so-so american restaurant. i didn't smile toward her but made eye contact and puckered my lips off to the left until she looked down at her shoes on the sidewalk. then i smiled. she rounded the corner. i was standing there with my arms spread as wide as they would go. her eyes narrowed and the corners of her bare lips curled slightly up. my eyes never left the deep black center of her's. i smell her skin the moment before she slips into my arms. then i smiled. 

xxy, again, on week 2 of the 2011-2012 nfl season

Like blood splatter
__an expensive pattern
__on paddle eternal, invisible grain

Whack
Whomp
Her voice looms against the pounding
__train, deafening wifi connection
__four bars of uninterrupted violence

Plunk
Pop
Carve the rolling sky, quick cocaine clouds
__from the teeth of the vibrating afternoon
__like too tight strings
__of a violin

Then she is gone, voice vanishing
despite intentions worse
for imagination,

The symphony tunes, unaffected
Oaken oar washed, rehooked on the museum wall.

"An Accident that Occurred in the Ring-Side Seats at Madrid, and the Death of the Mayor of Torrejon"

i imagine her at rest
propped up in her purple bra
licks of light sneaking through
her bedroom door
a mirror leans against the wall
she wants only one thing more
than to let each one in
then music
her pink lipstick like the light concealing

i imagine she dreams of dancing
loose, wet knees
strawberried hair rushing across a nose
painted fingers reach
up
to adjust the volume knob
cold toes sail across the clean hardwood floor

i imagine she rests
warm and sweating, the song fades
mirrors like smoke fill the room
the door slams shut.

[for jorie]

maybe it's an issue with vocabulary

dark with dialect and black hair, playful

the dictionary kicks up at the puddle

suddenly smaller

stack of books, covers & titles marrying

praise & anti-pith — on balance

from here with perfect warmth of gravity

concept quaint, quiet and quick

the common cold caught in a napkin

like the human condition, we mustn't cure.