Miami Beach burns with the insatiable / ego of a galaxy, bright enough to refuse / admittance to any stars in the night sky.

the liver of a blowfish is said to / be the tastiest part it’s also the / most toxic an ounce enough to kill ten men

The town had been coughing since the dark arrived. It began while I was on the bridge the second time. Was still going when I went out for beer.

he dials and dials his best half, / fingers moving like pretty / please, like knock on wood, like long / prayers, like rain dancers bright / in his loneliness who stomp

Unbuilt, or charred to this, the timbers of my house, its ribs. Alone, but standing, it whistles / wind into the bluestem grass.

The difficulty was obvious, an object we always / pressed away from us but that would always reemerge / in the sphericity of the real.

1 A man found a door and hung it on the wall. I think he thought in rectangles, each day's bright panel pushed one against the next, a calendar of light. He would paint them, all these days, and hang …

It takes one hand to imitate : the unabashed kids fucking in their car : a bird on piano : near a spur line in the woods : but you hear a flock : j told me he frequented this spot because of vigilant …

Trespassing on ground of former love. Tussocks / whisper here of nests and the vanquished. Swans hiss and fish / nearby, undoing the slipknots of their throats...

Budapest Pale, blonde phantom / In sleeping gown, I am Barefoot at the precipice, / A cloud of invisible Long-haired, white rabbits / Leashed, to me. I am drowning...

They continue to throw salmon shadows darkening the spectrum as it prisms into conditions, leaving a ruin of bleached coral in regret...

In among the tossed out clothes / and furniture the Sacred Harp--the workmen raised it up / a jet passed overhead white / and perfect as a tooth…

We made it, baby. / We're riding in the back of the black / limousine. They have lined / the road to shout our names. / They have faith in your golden hair & pressed blue suit. They / have a good …

In my history, I was bones eating paper / or I was paper eating bones. Semantics. / I lived in a narrow house; / I lived with a man who said / You fucked up your own life, who said / I could never …

There is no no?choice in Aquarium & color makes everything a little thing. There is only one way in & out—it is like a labyrinth, but you might be a shark or a tiger or a rattlesnake & there is …

planetary cold lime gates limps up the old citadel the wrecked chime killed celestial hum-parlor its lack help me I'm partial  

Too much neck, in fact, a whole lotta neck, neck like a lorgnette, gentle as a cuticle. But I forget the motto of Airport. I forget some people like themselves. I remove your pants each night to see …

I don’t believe I ever thanked you for dying when you did. How quietly you left, making your entrance into the vestibule of dying -- pressing your left temple with your left palm, your right with …

First light; minus tide; above the Pacific Ocean bowl the moon is drawing the sea up into a green nipple craving her mouth. Here, above the pine-tops, the air is making grey breaths, like my …

She was standing near a departure gate, / sandal-footed, her wiggly hair / and the latticework of her mercury footwear / the same satiny gold, and there was something / wistful about her, under the …