I was born at the bottom of a wishing well.
BOB DYLAN
“Motorpsycho Nightmare”
THE STUNTMAN
[Telegram]
THE EARTH BROKE OPEN CAUSE WE BROKE IT OPEN, FIRE CAME OUT IN THE FORM OF AIR
EARTH IN THE FORM OF FIRE WAS OPENING MOUTHS, A BYSTANDER TURNED INTO A TREE, WITH SHOCK I SHOOK IT
I WANTED TO STUPEFY EARTH WITH MY FINESSE, LAY IT OUT ON MY BLANKET & FEED IT GRAPES
I.
[Narcissus the Debutante]
newcomer grows in, killing familiarity
the wealthy scramble to incorporate
he attends their dinners
like demons they need new bodies
downlooker comes to town, comes to their parties
they think him shy
no, he knows there’s no such thing as eye contact
the wolf has a horizontal sweet spot on its retina
for spotting prey on the prairie
the stranger has a narcissus
shaped sweet spot
all the better to spot himself
here is his typewriter retina,
he swaggers from ocular to oracular
to alienate everyone comprehensively, encyclopedically
is to become, in essence, alien
[Dotted Lines]
he bursts the windows round him
he dreams
of being tenfold or a hundredfold
like a paper airplane bent
into a paper bird
//
(over the mainline highway,
the low-lain bypass)
he beaks his neck to his chin
he folds his neck up and down
but I don’t care,
that man’s never becoming a swan
[Voyeurs Cum Voyageurs]
you know the first fucks
here were trappers
they dealt in pelts,
they sold chambers
of meatless animal
& mortal coil
here coal stains, here gun grease
mingles with bear grease
but so what
if you sleep in a hundred deaths:
beech, birch, beaver dam, bear-dam
we lowdown our hearts in the tundra
we lowdown the spades
& just when we think no one is watching
everybody is
[A List of Scenarios]
a bird with a broken wing
“two bars walk into a downtown”
the piano is under lock & key
nobody on the riverbank knows what “riparian” means
grand canyon as eyesore
a bird that is only a wing
hollywood (i assume) was once wooded with holly
people identify themselves with dances rather than names
the obelisk song
“i remember the pre-nostalgia era”
you discover you are “that guy”
the randomizer stalks the spreadsheet
the new york times review of intentions
letters to a young undertaker
[Echo’s Dogs]
You grew up with 30-plus
Different dogs with names like “Little Dog” and “Latecomer.”
(The time between being a puppy and being
a dead dog is called “life.”)
You will recall
When you wanted to know what missing feels like,
I said “hunger,”
And you said “for a person?”
And then you said “like cannibalism?”
And then I said “yes.”
[Domestic Spacerace]
I like it when I look out a window
and can’t see any other windows. Ours is a simple joy,
clinking glasses.
So what if they demoted Pluto;
it’s still on the rocks, and it’s also still
neat to me.
Dear life, thanks
for being my life.
Hubble glints out there like a pond, a proud American eye.
Clinking glasses is how focus works,
like a matter of fact
of distance, like I like it when I look out a window
and see you in the yard.
[Home of the Standstill Parade]
It was a hard freeze we were up north there were fishhouses
decorated to look like only fish or only houses there were kids
grappling with a lot of candy my sister was there
nobody cared about the wattage of anything the streetlamps were dull
as knives in candle light it’s not just that your uncle
was drunk it was everyone had a drunk uncle the fish float
was