baby teeth

POEM FOR A WOMAN I ONCE KNEW

The body is what gets the body going.

Then, afterward, you read the articles.

The body that gets the body going

is enlivened by the mind and the mind

produces I. And why does mind produce I?

I don't know. Maybe for the same reason we have baby teeth.

Maybe I’m a philosopher, but I’m weak.

I‘m more like a poet.

relief

Midday Unmanifesto

I don't believe in absolutes.

I absolutely do not.

Every thought I believe

I believe the opposite thought.

I don't believe in relief

I believe in relief of relief.

I don't believe in belief but

I do believe belief can relieve.

How could one reasonably say

I don't believe in belief?

I don't have faith in faith?

Each thought is a relief.

Each loss of thought is a relief of a relief.

Baby’s awake.

I will save this for later.

The flaccid ace

The flaccid ace

Self-disgust is busted.

He never Ruled
the only way

old gold could,
by laying down
and taking 

a pounding.
Get up

and get going

into the flow now
like well-hammered gold

liquidity

Love is a liquid thing

ebbs and flows

spills and splashes

but always seeking its own level

Always feeling its own fill

Welcome to NY

Remembering when I first moved to NY 3 Years ago and picked up a Brooklyn Rail in a cafe as I was out looking for a place to rent. I opened it on the L and there was a poem by Cedar Sigo that had "borrowed" one of my lines. It felt like a warm and auspicious welcome to the city, especially because the line was, "How beautifully the brakemen allow the blood through."