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the appearance of constant movement (merely)
that spotted spider crawling in the cleavage between the floorboards
tires peel along wet road — an imperfect chill — fleshing dimensions
the body, young and unaffected by liquor, fucks better
in tight-roped moments before the roof is ripped into orbit.

Breathless and Sweaty Here on the Sidelines

Adam, is this a printing error?

Had McSweeney's beard-wild intern 

left notes in the galley?

A literary rabbit?

A muzzle flash? 

A clue; smoky fingerprints — whose? — left marginal?

An entropy?

Oh, I see!
This affect-italicized ho-hum — pop, pop, pop 

Playing volleyball with her quote.

dreambook, page 10-11

dreambook, pages 6-9

a four lane highway [draft]

molten machine buzz

docked atop the horizontal blow

returns to strike cheek and brow 

with entropy's graceless glow

their whole lives 

a single permitted use
across a four lane highway

children teetering

on a bed of weeds
i'm longing again

learn'd pall espied 

the hungry concrete gray

drape of water and stone

twisted into graceful tones

shovels deep

til crash of stone

and flame sparks breath

earth to silken spinning rise

brown leather strikes bow

to work to home to bar

where neon sings, to car

[the molten machine

their sigh
across a four lane highway ]

trench warfare, v1

here we are again,
alone with the screaming
whiskey baby — a thousand miles
gone, flies speak a single tongue
every tongue — a pretty girl
walks across the amber bar
she will not hear it, she must
not hear it; please
dug into the earth's narrow vein
she sounds like rain, a spark
filling lungs, one last dark sip
back against the dark bar.

Found Poetry No. 2

Say the word swimming.

Now say it without the ing.

Excellent.

You're up. Spell the word growing.

If you take off ing, what do you have left?

Where is grow? Which one? Which one's o?

How do you spell it at the end? Good.

Uh oh, tell me the sounds?

We don't say, graw. Never.

Do you need this? There's grow.

There's your ing. Perfect.

What's that word? Good.

Can you spell it in the air?

Uh oh. Try again. Slide forward.

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in the smiling eyes of death we find comedy

in the unthinkable flatness of dust we discover photography

we are our grains and height

awake late, again, 

someone warm loving you 

in a dream

in the other room

a truck full of swimming boys

swerves hysterically on route 17

commerce passing by in streaks unnoticed

in the absence of true friendship we find poetry

in the darkness of faith we trace our hands like children.

formless [fragment]

it was a quarter past two in the morning and she knocked on the cold, hand-painted door three times.

she often went for a 5-mile run in the never-silent urban night; interrupting the halogen darkness, ambulance calls were foremost, then police sirens, then the dual blast of fire alarms.

he answered the door almost immediately. inside, turning the door knob, he was as asleep as she was iced in sweat. their eyes met and a each exchanged a sweet quarter smile. she placed her fingertips on the small of his back and guided him back to the bedroom, toward the bed.

she watched him, rough and childlike, throw the duvet covers aside, climb in with his knees, rip the blankets back over his small body. he was asleep, again. 

Found Poetry No. 1

mystery of the ghost
bloodthirsty massacre, dark water

have you seen the legendary
Chi Xu Cliff mermaids?
the Soviet Union harvest
rival week wins a distress message:

"save me, lady in the water
in the door to the scene
Zhou Sheng had died."

mobile phone lover Luo
spent SMS pop-up
long a certain death:

"i am the lady in the water"

this is a brutal revenge
this is a premeditated killing

beautiful police officer leaves competition
involved in the investigation
a strange supernatural evidence

"but have to point to the Su Feng, Su Feng
serve the suspect — nixe — the event"

another detonated mysterious jade
wake the sleeping years memory
the truth is beginning to emerge.

The horrors of the legend of the lady in the water
Chi Xu Cliff is forbidden: deep caves, terrible secret
many to students, many to die
Sex and the City
the unthinkable occurred everywhere
perhaps, the devil behind you!