Sunday, 4 February 2007

Rust Brother, never can savvy you

a wryneck for Wascovich

If we were rust brothers before the rain and salt   Before
there were no scarcities of tanks to tread

Before the slow toe    warehouse of sound was a real
knife in my head   Before the shine of steel nativity

Before we trussed the tracks for holocaust   Before
sanctity forest murder black-coat cacophony

If we are rust, brother

Th[r]ough beer stale traceries and graffiti pissers
Though rage-cocked shout mastery pays no bills

Th[r]ough the bend sinister wending neighbor indolent
insolence neverending

Though weeks pass between fistclicks Though through
the rough thought caustic chaos meaning emergent life spark

Still we rust brothers

Thursday, 22 June 2006

Haplotype

-for Nick Traenkner

There is alcohol in me tonight, alcohol
and yes I have breathed in smoke and
breathed it back out out to you surrounded
by words unctuous, bombastic, evangelical.

Dress me in horse hair, the hair what was once
a horse and a belt of leather from what was once
a cow so costumed words take on legitimacy

or invest me in silks as the new pope of continual
omnipotent excess. The dirt of life is death
death death! The dirt of life is the fruit of death.
The dirt of life is a scientific experiment where

you tread on wheels while I spume and wrack at
you, your bare feet hatched with the turning
tide. Proud in persistence. I will talk until

you listen.

Wednesday, 21 June 2006

To Box With Man

          -for Eric Alleman

He works at
the Record Exchange.   I didn’t
know this until I
saw him there.

I knew him despite
his lost
play-off beard.   He did not
know me.

   He was not
friendly, this man of intent
gesture.

His voice:
   a thumb
   holding your face
   to the wall.

Outside
        you hear something

   howling.


I’m writing poems about poets I’ve seen in Cleveland. They’re meant to be read in the reading styles of aforementioned poets.

Thursday, 2 February 2006

V—In Case of Emergency Break Poem

     -for r.a.washington

These are-
granite days,
they demand-
hard men,
fortifications
of strange shapes
watchwords-
must blend in

We split
the rift
wider-
brother gives
grift- but my
words are
foreign currency
in his hands.

The songbirds
The long words
spill into our
ears- “from
whence came ye,
wanderer? to
loiter in the eaves
of spring.”

     “I cannot fiddle,
     but I can make
     a great state
     from a little city.”1
     Local anomalies
     in the second law
     of thermodynamics.2
     -raw vocalized.

Watch
the candle’s wick.
The times change
and light multiplies
but men remain
the same. Their
tongues estranged
by taxonomy.

I hit you
because I am
small.
And you are not
like me.
I am small, but
territorial.

Any truce
segregates our
speech, as war is
two cheaper
than peace.

How do I solve
for x in a language
that has no letters?

these riddles of
arranging adjectives.

—-
1 cf. Themistocles
2 cf. James Blish


I’ve been working on this for a few weeks now and I think it is finally sounding good enough to appear here. I’m still trying to tighten up some of the words and images, and smooth out some of the rhyme. Any suggestions or questions or workshopping would be appreciated.