And it is easy, so easy / to welcome them into the poem.

Yes, the girl says, / thus entering into an unspoken agreement / that a black shirt with prints of golden parrots and martini glasses / is the only requisite balm.

When God is sleeping with his eagle, / we are like a woman with a peacock / under her arm telling the river hush. 

The vet said that the humane thing to do would have been to let it die, to continue
doing whatever it was that I was doing. 

I come to you the way an animal finds a quiet place to die.

Are you Beyoncé? My daughter says.

I am holding a pair of Nike kneepads in my hand.

No, I say.

I am not Beyoncé, I say.

I think about how the flashes bouncing back from selfies seem really ‘cinematic’
and how shia labeouf seems very alaskan
alaskan with hard fists, and lonely

Iggy Pop has a rocket in his pocket and he shore is gone pull it out.

At happy hour he compared you to Carrie Bradshaw and
you thought this was funny.

Yes,we are parasites of the sun, but refuse to say so. We never mouth the same words twice. 

Call me sensitive but if you dealt with a toothache
that made a destroyed country out of the left side
of your face, wouldn’t you cry your ass off

we’re all alone in our corner of need.

A person in a pool of water
drinks it all up.

Because Math! 

she had dreamt she had fed herself to tigers

felt their maw drag her by the neck

wondered nothing more of her life

other than how many calories she would be.

Snakes and Sharks and Bats

In  a dream you were chewing your fingers down to the knuckle. My fingers, missing nothing, seem a kind of bloom, fluid as they slide through my mouth and the mouths of others. Sometimes I

Here we are like we used to be,
my thinking of you, your eyes
slipping, never quite on me.

a text msg that was sent:

ur hands my hands
both needed if i hit
u first would u hit me back

Seen two hours after I fell in love with you

the text msg that needed 2 be

around you because
I want you to keep thinking of me
as a small body, to wonder what keeps me
so pale, what sustains my Spanish mouth.

Don't ask me what I need,
for

The house

is new, but these woods are

strange, endless, and ancient.

And now, as summer ends
and the days spread thin,
I feel my life like a meal,
not a bad meal, but one
I have eaten too many times.

There is a room in the cathedral called
"The Quiet Room."

Imagine.

Its entrance, this body too shaky
for comfort.

Janus, god of doorways and beginnings,
when I desire

Catie sent me her new book
said I was in it a fair amount
that’s a good way to get me to read something

pictures are as real as forever is
hello kitty in the weeds
I live endlessly as actual nostalgia
dying alive with the light
a new bedpan under the moon
all love is a lack of