The Dirt Mall Pt. 3 (part I)

3

a hat has the pleasure of mint
and now the need to be in place only wishing ice
i know this and am it / am calling nothing
forward ice molts onto stupid
his shape is a faithful woman screaming to
foundations still down there / printing scribbles too numerous to please
nothing / a little endarkment / a place to find me

        a breath / a breath
        distances are not that far away
        names and then death / he was a German inventor
        via body after body / torso ripped and Young Orange
        there is nothing to keep living for Young Orange
        he has the name of breath / of distance / Young Orange
        love this man and then death / what we do not know
        which is a season / so Young Orange far away
        from that same inventor / there is a living in death and distance
        but we never drag out night and morn / but can eat timber and chips
        only that body / that torso / that inventor
        keep him living / body after body / and nothing
        for Young Orange

the body /poor rock charming Helen / a signal
to give us by our well dressed / then our dream it had a bend fastening to a field
no effect on a serpent or the mother city / no natural colors
way out / the father or ocean / or screw yourself
this kind of furrowed old times / with heads turned
summer in the woods / watching Helen / upwards choking

more new poems and junk here

SPOOKY BOYFRIEND

i am in the new spooky boyfriend

so is my friend Lacey Hunter

and Ryan Daley wrote a good poem about the Predator

Maya Pindyck is good too

everyone is good

Barnaby Jones #1 on GoodReads / thanks whoever did that.

gave out a ton of books to cool people at AWP this weekend / hope they send us stuff

i am too tired to do anything else.

The Dirt Mall Pt. 2 (demo version)

 

2

is that piston of our town upon / that hill
crumbling / piling maybe different 
I hear the rain / some sigh of a not to myself
but to Helen wrapped in coat but still awful
so know something is different, Dogtown
with it comes the knitted colors of broken wharves
but our believers chase a snake back where snakes belong
this is a program amongst lamp light
this is letter signed to the king
        
        the first song for Steven / the carpenter
        built a book and rode it to a soft wood
        turns are laid down and a boat leaves us
        out like how land smells / hills are covered in fish
        but that could be a sink in memory only

a coast
a coast a coast a
coast a coast a
coast a coast a coast a coast a coast a coast
a coast a coast a coast a coast a coast a
coast a coast a coast a coast a coast a coast
a coast a coast a coast a coast a coast a coast
is not to be ridden by horse

was then the beach his
because there are graves of him
piled up on ships, oil, blubber, men / a fort
we build ships with a tremendous yell
which is still a kind of sneaker / the best is soap

                                and it was the night we contended with
                                so near / like a beacon with his father
                                the kind of sailor that goes ahead
                                hacking at the mallow in great chops
                                this was a story / I didn't say anything
                                you do not sleep / you are stolen
                                that is why he never touched Helen 

on June 28th the rain was left forever in the ocean / looking for youth and kill
no one walks by me / a whale maybe / I have a deal with meat and bones
with teeth / these are the teeth where everyone lies
but cannot plant in any missing litany / drowned and died           
 
TWO

This place / the "hell of a tall man's life"
blood up and down
blood / that my father gave to me
in a place but not often for a seashore
we move away and out as a knuckle bends against the pole
I wanted / to wrap my teeth around it
this guitar string eyeballing Helen as she / in tow of some man of class
a great treasure like a cap of green but no one came out
and Helen bought a treasure for
it was there / in a box near her eye

                    these were Helen's things
                    that was Helen's yellow scarf
                    that was Helen's glass eye in a box full of green
                    that was Helen's eagerness to place notes on a shelf
                    that was Helen's note / unopened
                    that was Helen's whaling boat talking to the sea
                    those were her European things
                    

How To Disappear Completely