between the firewall
and several islands
is a fruitful calm
is an open studio
a burden of proof
what can and can’t be
said outside
one’s own head
I can play myself the same songs
and cry at the same parts
but it isn’t the same
as looking at myself
and crying at the same time
as the other myself
These days everything
seems to be
very distant
and as real as I feel
my brain is soft
and full of water
What I mean is
don’t take me for envy
I may never come
back to this same feeling
that my desire is pressing
but I want to talk
about how it feels
to be held so hard
that your body is worthless
I want to talk about
all that happens inside me
that I can’t see
How much
do you want to know
where things come from
If this is a dream
then you can kill me dead

This is a song
about two people in a car
but they are not us

And I will sing this
about the casement
and gable windows

the ceiling of air above my house:
A little mechanism for the ages

This morning everything
behind the screen
was much less interesting
than we thought it would be

A triangle of jets
loomed across the sky
woke me up something plenty
I waited for their sound to stop

dreaming something about
girls picking up baby lambs
something about the act of tumbling
from a door frame into the sea


A series of bubbles may be blown
between a pair of rings
of pink glass
of white blouses
of heavy doors

You look at me
like I have said nothing so far
You alone in the door
frosted by the sea

wishing I were
an empty vessel

Here are seven dancers
and their positions
of receiving
Look at how they lift up their shifts
to wash their faces

Everything opens up


I must know that you’re good
because you have said that you are good

and most of the time I speak
an entirely different language
to you

it is right but bewildering

I wanted you to kiss me in the wind
or at least to try

This is the only way to say it


It starts out like it’s going
to be the same thing
but then it isn’t

Radially my face is beautiful
only smaller and not as bright

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