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keep on

fight the good fight

that we will rise up again

the brain goblins feast

i have nothing left to say that excites

i am lost in the language

the right

never more specific

than street lamps                         

go out when i drive under them

mountain tunnel collapses

barack obama eats my bones

picks his teeth            with righteous plastic

petroleum                        patronizes me for minimum wage

msnbc                        fox news

roll credits                        silent film                        noir

made in a modern age                        of computer parts

         gmo’s

i’ve got whiplash                         in my fingers

                                    crutches

the old blackfeet Indian man

wine drunk on a goat                        through the city

calls himself a box

stuffs reality             in his hoodwink

            see this scar above my eyebrow?

            the one with the most scars wins

i don’t understand

what it is about men and violence

as if this endless retaliation

will solve something—

it won’t

a woman’s body is not a knife

is not a parachute or a diamond

do not liken me to desert

no matter how sweet you intend

i do not like lemon meringue

you can call me mountain lion

buttermilk

divine feminine

beauty

above all things                        love

but never in this yellow ecstasy

will one of us claim dominance

dare we claim our own bodies?

the wooden attic  already has us

a giant chessboard

queen on like color                                                king crown her side

with laurels

twined between her ribcages

Mother Mary me

the ocean you carry                                    across your shoulders

water bucket yoke

     astride mine

you kiss me in the yard

you stop chopping wood

wipe your brow                                                look at me

                                           emerging

your beard is grizzly

you sweat

you can see your breath

hyphenate

with each axe                         down

pluck goose feathers

but only take one from each flock

let them save better for winter than us

                       

you beautiful man                                    brown Ozark bear

growl each morning

stretch your lungs awake

curly headed word herder

no sheep for prayer

           

no crying here

in the dust between God’s broom bristles

leap on

fight the good night

that we will rise up again

strike resistance                         on the dead highways of America

hitch hike to Vegas            where girls walk the strip

trip johns

faster than foreplay in the alley

behind the dumpster

umbilical dance

kraken

get so

by forgetting their mothers.