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«Lake Forest College Press Lake Forest First published 2012 by &NOW Books, an imprint of Lake Forest College Press. Directors Associate Director ...»

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The curtains spoke and emitted Cries but not the birds You said you would Send through my wounds To alight on electroplated Nipa huts The son Of an Apega I bring the noise up to my face Though the sound grows Weaker by the suburb The cello-driven sleepless Stagger toward rivers Where they will link arms and float The sweet lord has many Moving parts said my sensors My other job Became branches 26 MORROW If I knit you to the crowd Would our hearts

–  –  –

Arranged on spears are the cakes and lambs We let decay To remind us of the peeling Edges of our time

INSIDE THE BRIGHT WHEEL

A weekly idiot plays obscene Variations on the rommel pot

INSIDE THE BRIGHT WHEEL

The washing away Of wrongs

INSIDE THE BRIGHT WHEEL

We laugh When we don’t understand What we say to each other 28 SEA OF TEARS An ethical relation among things

–  –  –

Our spleens are normal In size Rejoicing and the papayas Are in bloom now This is the work That work begat With knives and brushes We are many wings Against a chalky ceiling Long ago our judges sank We have a desire To always have freedom without memory So no one knows for sure Who shot the mirrors Music is fed to us We who also drink The milk from our elders’ eyes Our legs are strong and bright Though we can’t dance at the inside Of a memorial anymore 30

FLOWERS OF GLASS

Collect this null-transfixed Head of mine Out of these arms

–  –  –

Tigers tigers Will rings and coins Fall through cages Nowhere is the outcome Written five times If you must take my life Spare these hands

–  –  –

Comparing persimmons 32 REVOLVER Soon after the men Of our church found trees Of smoldering meats In the backyards of our Married daughters One lambsman came Pounding at our doors To collect his payment We gave him statuettes Of gold and curdled milk When our purses evaporated There were several Days of silence Followed by mounting Loss of sleep And disappearances Via shopping complex At night we suffered the obstinate Weight and heat Of days in the blood Of our legs Among us a consensus was reached Only in fever Then radios and guitars Burst and answers came Without fathers Belts became whips And back again We traveled so fast We injured the caged Animals in our chests But in time the pain Dissolved with the books We left at the beach Through the wine the dead Murmured their absolutions

–  –  –

34 MORROW You and I conferenced All night Exchanging Cold pronouns We slid the glass boxes Of our foreheads together And then immersed Our forearms in lard To shake hands inside a dollhouse We wanted to vanish Into the structure or else No one gets paid We wanted to record The rain faithfully We photographed falling milk We then bequeathed to still-sleeping Neighbors negatives

–  –  –

Owners tether Their zeroes down

INSIDE THE BRIGHT WHEEL

We drift in and out of our skulls On the streets Petting the dogs of small delights

INSIDE THE BRIGHT WHEEL

The truly blessed return as stillborns

INSIDE THE BRIGHT WHEEL

The poor are still the poor 36 INTERHUMAN Paradise leaked and the system Experienced a series of convulsions On conveyor belts We improvised our proteins And dubbed it continuous dining We formed small groups We gave ourselves to each other There on the beaches Every time sorrow Circled and bit us We administered miraculin Our bellies filled with dull ringing Reminding us of our successes And failures with rice Our nights were states of inaction But we rustled when we worked Side by side on the factory floor Interrupted only by sudden birth cries We forgave each other Our not dancing We were very good with absence When our world ended We were not changed

–  –  –

Dissembling at the podium But spectacular in bed.

What was the last Question again?

Yes, my stabs Have healed.

I’ve taped the box To this bad self.

Thursdays are wrong.

And breathing takes Time. I tripped on the map After I followed the stubborn Thought to the park.

Around here it’s all about Organization.

An icy room with cows Dangling inside it.

We’re sorry we missed Your business by a few burning Towns. There is water On “always.” The wind still roped To a tree.

Clavicle, wind-handle, I want you To treat me like work.

Don’t ever stop. Days Zoom right through us.

Until the mob and truth Of these places Strip us of our cameras.

38TRACE EVIDENCE

The house repeats itself In the hammer blows At the wound-site Where the sky Is still bruised above the radio tower Long ago destroyed by narcoleptics And when the curtain parts its lips It is only the empty morning stuttering Tapping on the pane With a branch Having forgotten its keys We think how stupid of it But our skulls are on the outside When we run and finally disappear Our families keep recording

–  –  –

In the clearing In the fragrant heat I ran my fingers Through my beloved’s Hair checking For lice and daymares But our bed of leaves disguised A complex network of gears A whole abysmal Marketplace I lost all Feeling in later systems The epoch a muscle Stopping twice Bittersweetness Was a year in June Over the countryside The great wheel Spun With the helicoptering Angels Our souls were scattered Only half of us Sang 40

HOSPITALISM





Though its surface feels like a gurney An eroding kiss Smoke in our hair Let’s consider when and where The gilded painting’s been Beneath the weave The gauzy blue Of receding labyrinths Leads to the last day of fever One moth Leaps and we fall Down from our fathers This real Life in curtains And on the screen A beautiful aneurysm A rose Burns for example And fear of parks Never because longing and sidewalks After rain Unmoor vapor ships But the simple fact of the moon Lowering its destroyed Engine on chains Someone please explain Why the ballad keeps breaking off Mid-sternum The growing presence Of photographs on our necks and arms

–  –  –

The gaze spills Past the tracking shot And swerves To the window at the end of the hallway To the bottom of the stairs Where we suddenly Wake up on our knees Still praying 42

INSIDE THE BRIGHT WHEEL

Is non-action The windows are painterly Abstractions

INSIDE THE BRIGHT WHEEL

The departed With their incomplete absence Exhort us not to let go Of children and music

INSIDE THE BRIGHT WHEEL

Cavort musical automatons

INSIDE THE BRIGHT WHEEL

The new birds do not fly But roll like spindles

–  –  –

Voices and likenesses descend Our husbands also descend Where goodness is made to wait And kneel at the water’s edge And we are drunk on their resemblances Our dead are so naked And awkward in their graves

–  –  –

44 Knowing staying will only metastasize To a lingering illness Animals and plants surrender us Their dreams in their passing We are persons full of stones

–  –  –

You believe you are in the world Without example You stay with your vehicle Your sleep Leaves no trace You tourniquet Around a phantom limb The time of your home country You tattoo Your anniversary to an acoustical Membrane over an abyss Your voice and all its qualities Drop in place So when you yelp or mumble you are mindful Not to invert yourself You take a detour To examine your neck and face Bending you assign Tactile values To terrifying objects You think hollowness unlike depth Is a grace or a loveliness You stretch your skin And let a film play all over it 46 THE KINGDOM Neo-animals we Slept with our veterinarian Nightlong his face Was the nearest Grey object And later in the daylight We walked until a wall Inward and dishonest Completely gave On pavement we Joined shadows Rain plus the ground Radiation of its complex Odor Memory’s Wind-sculptures Spin funnily with leached Colors Above our heads We spine-dangle And then we Stretch horizon-like We are vessels Bearing wine that floods up From our song- and fieldStoppered necks Having left our names The future drinks us

–  –  –

How far have we traveled And when did the avalanche Of our vehicles come to a stop On the highway in our linked loneliness We imagine ourselves a modular Horizontal sculpture We reminisce and pine for the remote Persons we made happy To amuse ourselves as vultures And shards of sheet-metal roofing Wheel overhead We sometimes burn or trade Official documents Our duty now is to never say no To anyone who points a flashlight At our windows in the night or in the fog

48MORROW

Because I have no belief This body is a plastic Tube where passes day Leaves Gummy residue No limb of him Logs on as me What is rising from the couch Contemplating the partial Birth of my hands In a place between one And ten thousand I waited amnesia ago To lose to not Ever find the plectrum

–  –  –

Revolt under a cloud of lenses Comes a lull for us to weep And bleed into our helmets 50

INSIDE THE BRIGHT WHEEL

Self-doubt

INSIDE THE BRIGHT WHEEL

What is the prayer count?

INSIDE THE BRIGHT WHEEL

Dear ventilated burial grounds

INSIDE THE BRIGHT WHEEL

I hid my eyes from us

–  –  –

Can you hear us there In poverty At the back of the engine We’ve grown more frail From the date of purchase As out of mud The lotus rises So a melody blooms From the mouth of a statistician But the sky keeps peeling And a sudden burst Of cold has shocked Melismas Now there is gagging In the pale background Everywhere the bright seeds Of shrapnel rest We share One torch-bearing prosthesis We march to the cliffs Where our kids are echoic 52

RESTORATION

Where our eyes are blank We fill with moths Bony fingers of daylight flit In and out of our faces The farther we step Away from our desks The more rain and cardiac Events escalate Dancing on rooftops Requires less music And more animal Having scattered we return Our leaders to their plows Our dogs upon our citizens We are known by mirrors We are policed by mimes

–  –  –

To an engagement Where rows of trees and statuary Broken off at the knees Converge inside a lens Looking back You will take off your hat And clog the vanishing point 54

THE STATE OF THE STATE

Tenderized Post-citizens We keep warm In our blood compartments Until antinomies In our thinking arise By spinning cop-light We are found Roaming in our sleepwear Desiring this Or that machine When we start To lose consciousness We call out our own names

–  –  –

You enter a series Of amphibious cities

INSIDE THE BRIGHT WHEEL

The people are rolling In the ash When they are not Moaning in the maze

INSIDE THE BRIGHT WHEEL

Rattles made From the toroids Of dried navels

INSIDE THE BRIGHT WHEEL

Not day Not night But sepsis 58 THE FUSE Come child-bearing age Waking up Wounded we will leave The corn maze For the actual horizon And while we still dream of an ethics Hallucinate another day Stroll through an installation Of bones and white buildings To be demolished completely But remembered while driving Because cars are an eternal river Crammed with restless limbs And even though our faces Might shake Violently in the mornings And the twilights of the future Soft clicks And bright screens In cubicles will steady them

–  –  –

Until a tunnel opens And a newly formulated Scent leads the way We retire with our animals And sleep by definition So many minutes to a field The rush and rasp of cash We feel for the first time The grass is truly alive Crowds soften Into the soil Wheels cut deep Our rambling, perfumed Automatic letters return To our selves unread These dreams we slowly eat Between buildings Under a willow-work of chains While the wind holds Fast to the walls Like the drowning to the trees 60

ONE THOUSAND

Structures dance

–  –  –

We believe in a face That revolves but does not change 62

INSIDE THE BRIGHT WHEEL

When is the eye Not a fist Dilated by knives Limited by technique

INSIDE THE BRIGHT WHEEL

A line of drunkards Scale a row of sycamores To praise And elegize money

INSIDE THE BRIGHT WHEEL

The first Few kills

INSIDE THE BRIGHT WHEEL

Amnesia

–  –  –

If the grid does not scar Or coagulate My living hand Crawls free If dogs fold the sheep And I control The cars of my neighbors I quiet guns If I fail They empty Their cupboards Stab me And climb into my mouth 66 STAGECRAFT Now we form Dance troupes Now we manufacture Needles Now we make ourselves Very, very small Now our sons Are crumpled around their instruments Now we play captors Now we run Away from representation Now softness sinks Beneath the surfaces we rest against Now we surrender our land Now we play Sports involving the ocean Now by flares We are singed to nakedness Now we hide behind bags of sand Now air flows into our masks Now we make nice With the wolves inside us Now we learn Helplessness for everyone Now we trade warmth For the pleasure of the group Now we are pacified By the breeze on our foreheads

–  –  –

And ashes in common These are the bone-quiet houses And so we nap for good Everyday a version of childless And the lake The lake is very sweet 68

INSIDE THE BRIGHT WHEEL

False storefronts appear overnight At the foot of the mountain

INSIDE THE BRIGHT WHEEL

Twilight fused to the fur Of a dead fawn

INSIDE THE BRIGHT WHEEL

Daily truth-making

INSIDE THE BRIGHT WHEEL



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