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It starts out as a chain letter

game of telephone

construction paper series of loops

not until Christmas

but until your own birthday

like you could be Christ

but sparklier&notdead 

Your blood is sitting pretty

in your body I am sure of it 

This room a world

in which we need NEVERENTER

anywhere with fluorescent lighting

not even to buy toilet paper




The method here is not much outside of rainbows

anyone can see as long as clouds

are more like peeled-apart cottoncandy&enough

pairs of sunglasses have fallen nicely

between our heads&ears


I’m not asking to be in love

just to keep the sensation

that what is invisible&good

in me is leaning so far forward

you can see it a little


I should know more

about glam rock if I’m going

to let all this glitter out


Here it isn’t about what you don’t know though

rather how pink it can be

Pink in that it is sometimes sexual but also

pink in that it is new&sofilled


only potential takes on


A bunch of children running

all around inside or outside it doesn’t matter

The light makes everything warm&amess

the plates on the tables ALLACOLOR


&somewhere winter has again promised summer

it will make the trip

&againstallodds the adults in the room

have found a bubble of air in the corner

from which to breathe&speak





Not a lot gets finished

Ways are found to enter


theater is left empty



but spreading out a little

the right amount of peanut butter

for every drop of honey


The bees this year

seem practically caffeinated

Even the small trees are applauding


We could talk about Paris

or where we left the mountains


but the TRUTHIS our most urgent

consideration is the discovery of

NEWTONES of white noise


Our mothers’ showers

running all night through the walls




A friend seldom heard from asks



How yesterday when I forgot

the world&could do nothing



Rachel said “look how well you

are breathing”

as though I were

some kind of miracle




This morning I am starting the fire

in the middle of the field

as both apology&forgiveness

or thanks

for how last night’s dreams went


It feels well to be left

well enough alone


My hair grows

long&chooses a color

&when I think of the dentist I forget

I am no longer

offered a prize




I’ll admit it

I am so ready to love

Lately when I read

the words fall out


My brain stays on a page

I can’t hold onto quite


Same goes for speaking

&though I refuse

to lament any loss lost

here there is a wildfire

pink sunset HOTLIGHT

to it all


Like my fingernails

the hats they put on newborns

week -old lilies SOOPEN

they thicken the room


Today Dale said

“I’m a daddy”&I liked it


Not sex but a puppy


That a dog’s name is Tim

is another reason to like


Same serotonin as grass cutting

the cool morning before the game starts




Weird things make other people happy

&when they do we are all walking through rain

encouraging me toward the water’s edge

toward a smudge or two of blue above


Once we were math poets

now we are mud poets

the children say

&it is on-brand&inavoidance of cliffs


Sharpie&agoodfont never saved anybody

but for a few more years

we’ll be standing on rocks

screaming LOVE’S NOT GONE


until the light catches up




I read it’s easy for just one part of the rainbow

to disappear like indigo for example

it’s the easiest thing

I’ve had to remember


On today’s wish I wished



One of the rules is four

is not always unlucky


How my body knows the date

each year without textual prompting


This poem that poem


How sex can go fast&quiet

Without you is nothing to mourn

more a way to feel good about

someday I will be an old lady


&will no longer keep track

of whose or whose death lingered longer

on this birthday NOTHEN

it will be every day

chocolate cake in bed




Cart before the horse or chickens, etc.

I choose a shield covered in kaleidoscope

keep the joy safe all day


Michelle said “Poets are butterflies because

all their beauty comes out at once&then

they are dead how are they not already

always dead”


Imagine every liquid the color

of grapefruit juice or imagine

the inevitable occurring

all at once just once


It’s not ever an isolated instance of violence

&asthebeatdrops I can see you&yourlimbs

taking up a whole side of the room





To be okay with the couple extra pounds of ASSFAT

creeping out the sides of a new swimsuit

is no small trophy in the litany of changing rooms


That I can see you waiting insofar as the airport gate

is illegal&romantic


The days too long to resist


toothpick through the unbaked cake

of my heart&pulling it out unclean

still surprised to find it

covered in wet batter


Thing is I’d walk toward you anyway

let you LOOKATME like I’m a wedding

the shape of a galaxy

you’ve only heard the name of




What if YOUKNOW being happy

did get bigger than being right

like not quite full moon full moon

tomorrow so you can see just

HOWCLOSE to grown you are


Remember your mother

say thank you for HOWLONG

an afternoon alone with you


The champagne days hardly passed

confetti ALLOVER their love

Yes think of your parents

having GOODSEX the kind that makes

yummy children think of them

as pen tips held to a new mattress



Walk out the door LIKETHAT

not just having finally had one good night

of sleep but believing really believing

everyone else did too








One thing to learn is



The books you’ve read soak into the soles

of my feet while I stand in the river I soak

them up from its bed


Sleep nectar is not all bad

We are mostly alive there


Having written many thousands

of poems

I decide to be the WHOLEOCEAN


How even thinking about it you can

no longer find a ribbon

LONGENOUGH to tie around me




Here’s to dying in relative obscurity

Glasses of fortifying tonic raised high

above our heads I’ll name you



Everything&everyone around us a darkness

we’ll welcome just for the memory that we are

yes still upright or more accurately about to take flight


Having had no time to arrive

to fold the fitted sheets or even spit

in our palms fast enough to slam them



What wild love have I

left in me


Even then




Standing on one foot

or a little jump rope a little


A poem sets its title

in bold&WOW just like that

my heart is the floor again



even here


Always another beauty from the EASTCOAST

with goodglasses&goodmanners

This brings comfort in the same measure

it is worrisome to shout loud internet


To walk or punish myself into listening

to the little birds because it is nearly

spring&thewarm air is nice to sing into

but even they are calling out to each other




Only sort of listening is one way to decide

I’d hold handfuls of bees

I mean my mouth is full of honey&myhair


Our POSSIBLEDAUGHTER shows up in the poem

I did not know she was there&howslow

it took me to love what loved me back


Thick gold melts into baseball

&again baseball


Still my dreams are safe from you&reserved

for only my fondest dead


Tho if our lives were at sea

we’d have a widow’s walk&I’dwalkit




I don’t want to hear just the song anymore

We go from locked in the dungeon

to a classroom with chalkboards


The kind that teach boys to grab GIRLSASSES

slowly gradually if still without asking


You leave me a 2+minute voicemail&you

are in my room again

You have had so many good haircuts


It’s still possible we could make art or money

or babies that work

live in houses with floral wallpaper we put there

on purpose not just floral wallpaper we tolerate


It is almost safe to say neither of us will go to war

before we are too old to go to war&inthisway


we have already had luck

the walls of our childhood bedrooms painted

colors we remember




The tenderness of uncertainty

is a tenderness

I tend to



To often do one thing over another

is to tend

to fly over

is to care for


I think lately about whether

WHENNEXT I fall in love

or have a baby or plant a garden

start a book there will be SUCHATHING

as splitting


There is of course

just as there are

hills in Nebraska&trees

&asImake my way across this country

already fires everywhere


Or a try at spring

ridding it of leaves soggy with gone snow

burn to get to the ground&hearit





What kind of rite of passage do I need

in order to truly know 1,000 jokes


A word I forgot I loved finds its way

back a decade later


Mary said Basho said to only use “fuck”

every 1,000 poems


Like breathing I eat fruits

take pictures

name everything I see “birthday cake”


Lilly wants to move to the desert

Once I saw her cry&understood her as a child

Someday when she has a baby I will hold it


When sons die their voices grow huge

Mothers look behind them float

each other out to sea on rafts

made from driftwood&tornapart clothes


No mistakes here only a word




Though not done justice to

by a camera embedded into a phone

at times LIGHTIS the one thing in the room

keeping your eyes going

keeping them going


Hungry for a variety of blues&greens

for the occasional pink


OURART is blue mostly

except when it is pink

as on the birthdays

marking decades


What I love about you

is the smell of my sad perfume

is also sad to you

even on the subway on a Saturday

during the part it goes above ground

&thesun is shining&youremember

what reasons there are to live

in New York


while I am alone in Colorado

inside a dark plane ride

with only screwdrivers&greyhounds

as color


We do get older

fall in love finally

with the right person

Discover light

we thought was in pieces

is actually whole




The thing I didn’t realize

was that IWOULDBE in love

or at least LEANINGHARD

into promises


My mother’s Christmas vision

is of a TALLMAN dark hair
in the kitchen with children


I wake at 1, 2, 3

in the morning

to realize

I have not built

enough rituals in

When Becky asked

“Do you want to plan something special”

she did not mean a trip

to the beach

for the good photos


She meant

Do you want to bury a stone in the sand

Do you want to hold hands once more

before I marry




Something changes


each other

need more swimming

at night&atdawn


I wish on all the candles

to feel only one thing at a time


Put on a tulle skirt

silver bra orange cardigan

call myself BORNAGAIN



or an ice cream truck

Either way it wants a little more darkness

so a storm forms off the hills


The wind blows

I bunch my skirt into a


wait while a ladybug

crosses the whole sidewalk

in the direction of safety


The storm likes the part that isn’t sad

but growing up never happened

as fast as we needed it to


My grays come in



I tell them

in the same voice

I ask you




JUSTLIKETHAT I look everywhere

&cannotfind anything but photos

of the two of us


I search&search

I invite you to an ALLNIGHTDINER

I also invite a photographer


My goal is to return to the time

I could imagine us separate


The photographer takes dozens&dozens

of portraits


JUSTME sitting on MINTGREEN barstool



I try to remember if there was ever

such a color as PLAINPINK




We wake up


The film is ruined

by an ALLMORNING exposure

to your face


&through the wall of flowers

it seems all in the mob are smelling

nice&different today


It’s okay to make a beautiful thing

without thinking too hard about it


I yell


Nobody notices




All brains are not the same


Yours is a mirror in the floor

with the sun ALLUPONIT

casting shadows into the signifiers

we learned separately as kids





while moving toward you


in disbelief

that we were ever anything

but staring into each other

trying to extract


to be taken into pocket

for the days we skip


my foot catches on



the rainbow lost


&I trip

but it looks like



return to ISSUE ONE

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