Gin Poem

Gin Poem

They didn't plan it this way
First they-
---were mountaineers
---were pilots in a gorging belly
---skittering up walls like beetles
then they planned it weep, beetle

eggs twitter the world
and the way it came out, as jelly flowered
cashews come from a fruit

beetle's speckling back legs
tremble, All trash turning, all globe turning,
it was. Gyrospin out of the
last legs of the 17th century

wishing when asleep-
---don't get down on my juniper tree
---tended by beetles beneath breathing in
---open wheat widths
they’ve gone to wreck spaces that
are woman
woman, the open breath
the jelly flavor
---anacardic

beetle men, motioning to
the abscessed tooth, open in the sky

hiccuping juniper berries
---quantum wallace, can you wallace
---will you dance the yellow wallace?
in the 17th century you were working harder
you won't fit last legs
last legs last legs

mark into me caju tree
tonight i can until it doesn't waste
I am fifty points of juniper and
white fur tree

so beautiful we beautiful
be breaking beetle waste

Ryan, for our 2nd anniversary

now flat's got round, now
foothills' got a little hairflecked head

now you's got me, now
me's got my long hair and your long
cloud-pattern hands in it

foothills' got a joy
that makes em waggle up the mountainside

DHC Transfer Corps poems

for Jordan
he's slick as a streetcorner in a
rainsuit he's got a cart full of
breaking birds thrusting featherfluff against
thin string
bars, he's got a cart full of
streetsweeper songs the grinning
nightlife residue of
streetlife, scrapes itself up and
throws itself into his cart
of flower overflow

for Dylan
fire and drums and the pinesap crackling
yea you probably run naked in the woods sometimes
screaming scrimshaw onto bark
maybe along shale crisps that trickle whisper
to the mountain base:
until, lungsore, you
grow like the madrone tree
slow
and skin snapping red
into green

for Jessica
I think you're made of flowers
made of brass
glinting I bet you smell like
powdery blue,
hedges,
and hammered steel.

for Michael
twitch and tumbling the round rocked
river and bullfrogs
carrying gnatclouds in their bellies,
the dabbing mud.
when you were a tadpole
did you ever swim merrier than
the water creek
the downpulling
and the spin?