After the credits, I vacuum. I vacuum for hours and hours.

Transcendental with Reincarnation 

I was a bank/ cashier who stole /a five-dollar bill/ I was Laika/ a stray selected/ no more than bark/ part-husky/ part-terrier/ canine space orbiter/

By now you tell me how I feel.
You tell me
what I will do and how I will act.
You do the creating
for me,

I can't in good conscience watch a sixteenth season of Big Brother.

What if you spent a morning pulling scallions from the soil and washing beets in a metal sink?

I'm going to abandon everything / after this poem 

Had a dream he was chained to a mountain while a buzzard ate his liver.

What dispossessed me sat erect beside the checked quilt in fishnets.

& no I'm still not thirsty / although i find myself / thinking too frequently / about jagerbombs

I got my dad’s big nose and people make fun of me for it.

[victory lobe] 

tiny towns or a dog could keep me pleased  

for six months, then I’d wear felt triangles  

look like December, have needles on me

molt on the plane to the

Because anytime is the right time for a haiku.

I usually distance myself from someone after i’m physical with them.

Understand, neurotic perfectionists are mostly calculated

thinking about how all of it started

thinking about how the poems ends

Once, at the watering hole, a man with a knit-closed eye

kissed me until I spat up a silver coin.

four small test tubes.

Your face, my light. What terrible things I’d do for it. 

But life was good for clowns back then

Trump & A Syllabus of Goals

To gift you the stink of goats.
To gift you bright whey.
To neon-bright your mouth

with sorrel & rind
& mouth for you
some many hums.

To

Portrait, with Negative Space

Running faucet, orange light hollow as a pill bottle,
images submerged in a bath of chemicals, blooming
into black-&-white being. That was the only

Tiny Evolutions

okay so let’s talk
about the exes we mythologize
for the wrong reasons   like leave
a toothbrush at my bathroom sink
and call it love   and baby
I’ll promise ring your

MONUMENT

YOU SPECIFY IN YOUR LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT “BURY ME WHERE I STAND” SO THEY REMOVE A CHUNK OF TILES FROM THE FLOOR IN FRONT OF THE GOLDEN PANTRY’S CHECKOUT COUNTER AND THEY SET YOUR

Class Aves

Anyone that ever heard the call
of the Rodrigues Solitaire

is long dead, but its name is trapped in stars:
turdus solitarius—
named by a sensitive astronomer.

Does this