Flight Path

overruns straight ahead copresence
the bag the plane the sap
someone my double not memento mori
it’s in the marker the butterfly on the porcelain
everything you touch the movement of your hands
banquets readings coffeepots bouffants
drawn to the foot loose higher keys going to pieces
homage to fabric paper fresco pigment
you’re only as present as your nonrepeating patterns
terrace cemetery ferry classroom catching
the colours of your swim tasting your way around an island
preterites rubellites a hideaway or running away to wrap
the day around your shoulders seen in a new light
one-of-a-kind edging towards planetary inclusiveness
because it’s always somewhere there’s more to style
than that of a multiboat sky a blend of strobe and plaster
bliss is a multifaceted gem           our indignations make
the case for a peculiar roving        site of fanfare    silences
are footfalls     the undershelf and leafage       necessarily a
scaffold’s answer is bent with the weight of inconclusion
as on the countenance of a compass  we fold and unfold that’s all
archetypes of conviviality      blindfold is the flagship  a painter
washing his brush, my hatred lies about me in tatters      getting
tired of mouthing the frost     distractedness is my means of transport
smiles hidden by grimaces      half-swagger  mid-rise  mid-gush
how can we triumph over debris rebus       awry in its own right
determinant A    the red silk of the pre-socratics     no sense of
looking behind a curtain    the best thing that ever happened was
to write about what i didn’t know   black hearted apex  the snarl of
clippings    a polyglot claiming the rain   the pop politics of electric chairs
black egg hiding in plain site       soup scam concrete crayons expanded
mylar   memory’s music chewing your name     camouflage  mushroom
cloud oxidation     there is no resolution to this thought   separation of
feet and shoes   their persecutory targets     derrieres  clay   polyurethane
coating   the shape of genealogies to come  a hoarder’s horror  cut adrift
while there is still chance let us prance   tending the broth feeling the groove
a hit or miss screed   shades of the void and carnival of rodents
milquetoast avalanche pot authority    armor going down the road    and to
what end- this obsession with seagulls     i’m not altogether sure this is
not a vortex a comeback   because you can’t put a deadline on a miracle
till onions draw nearer      question not my north    as if an apparition cracked
a wishbone    torn clockwise more is at stake   four sibyls four crossroads
astral nexus evocation conjugation skylight        a narcotic mile a glamorous
syncope     living with the enemy and raising hell     high strung the stradivarius
offscreen   illusion of stability    this is the place where we are homesick
revolving in a warm pelt   hookab savant    mindful of boarding point and
wherewithal   the harpsichord operates the leafage      it’s all in the bend
and a freaky getaway     the quick footwork of the perplexed     solstice lilac
and a vespa   clover flatiron    school for poetic copulation     ultraviolet and green
right now    you out there searching for that which will set you on fire    you have
the most ground to cover    an indelicate balance   take me to Utopia Parkway
she woke slowly and threw a drink in someone’s face     i don’t normally hear
(or don’t hear) anything like this     quick switch sublime weed     bits of hard driving
dialogue to fragment a recognizable brand       twinned: vessel/carbon monoxide
in you the globe comes alive     an annual contract that ripples with strangeness
the siege of seasonality    which is in part your loyalty to the garnets    in the swim
silvercupping   a dustbowl doomsday    zingers regarding a petting zoo   burning coals/kiosks
a savage american genius    doing what you have to do until a kerchief grows more trusting
inflight: infographic biceps   life among the hiphoppers     a mortar’s tongue   in need of
some bubbly and terrific utterances       i get the feeling i can’t ever be indifferent to you
stand back,stats!     if you want scriptures to rub against your naked flesh    cracked to the core
hamster   periwinkles    ironwork’s discounter       on occasion, ovulary accompaniment
moonlight on skeletons    drop-pants are more than props    the psychic price of dislocation
bring the turtles home    no shelter for a libation    it commonly swears      the appeal of
bender after bender   necrosis  arcana   out-takes from the jubilee    bluemountain sunset,
i want always to be remembered in your blue room   high speed shards: alchemical    never
half measures    imperfect witnesses pizzicato consensus    grayer than we might expect
domino in analogue    not polished silver but belly laughs     scenarios gone bony   a scapula
for the taking    catcher under surveillance or the party on the pier   to live the buttondown life?
to humor a broken drum? full of labradoodles   back to the flytrap  hold down the wrong cursor

Thought’s a float plane and adores a lagoon—–but tonight’s
no night for softlandings. The propplane overruns the runway, crumples up
and dumps  rock candy into the fernbed. The fernbed huffs,

a little squadron of spores goes dead
amid the sneezing powder. Every spine
relaxes with no punchline. The flightplan continues planeless toward Miami

and lights a jagged maybe on the sky
like machinegunfire’s afterblast
enlanterns the closed eye or like the seams of the skull

enriver a map a settler used  to mount a landgrab on a horse.
I rest my rifle on my thighs. I carry at my waist my compass, astrolabe, the jawbone
of a propplane, the black box that will bleat when Catastrophe harkens close

enough to trace the name embroidered on its uniform. When Dawn lifts
her laquered fingernail  I’ll neck my noose

To nuzzle the surprises of connecting flights.
If this is second sight then I beseech your tremor.
Keystone, heart circle, weblink.
What sticks on shrub- toccata, eminences, phosphorescence.
I will play back the river before another spree through spores and spines.
The weather will defend the afterblast.
I will divert my eyes from the landgrab.
Bareback ondines gruff impromptu cup of cups.
Without having seen the scoptocrat and the Shooting Script.
You have put your hand in. I have sealed a pact with you.
Nailing their ears to the call, to the cauldron.
Catspaw lint resistant stubs disjunct rash squished.
I am not here to make the unbearable bearable.
The public sphere changes everything. Cherrywood is the message.
At every turn of iridescence, astrobe, propplane.
A repudiation of poetry’s safe disguise.
Getting a grip out of costume. A dive into mindfest. No charity
without mindfest. Mindfest is all. Mindfest is portal. An arsenal of
blades and doo-wop. Spinoffs of noose and softlandings. Maybe
turbine maybe soap in relation to potential transfiguration.
Birdnests and meatgrinders. The crooked teeth of
an interstellar intruder. Pine and skin. Ruination looking at me.
Bolting for the exit may not be a good idea. Word on the elbow.
Not in the way of particular charm. Hollowing the marble.
Tribulations necessitate safe spaces (how safe is that sky?).
How incisively you effect the ineluctable!
In repeat when riffage drops off a cliff. Twigs rotunda roar of
the bowl of basil. To eviscerate pottage. Ever felt the chills and ticktock?
Regardless of pulverizing rubberbands. Defy evidence. Running laps.
Soundtrack for a halo. This belonging this belonging.
Each breathless line of work. Ceramic bake eyeshot bronze pour.
Each in the grip of nowhere. There’s a meticulousness to the weapon of choice.

the sheep loop the car on fire
(its chassis is white, but O its tyres are black)
firestone the white sap leaves the tree
(you ran away) (in your american sneakers)
the plane tree and the ash
semi-quaver like houris in a gold-enamelled breeze
ironed like money/flattened out by horror it splits
as wire snaps the windpipe of the trees
ex-orbita: out of the wheeltrack
out of the swing of things
out of the business altogether
bacteria in the tear factory
exhort the eye to release its burden
distemper hardens paw and snout
the white sap, the white pine, the white-skinned child
uncomfortably posed in his nylon hunting straps
props up the head of the sacred white stag—–
from the burning tires, purulence blocks the narrow alley
but the sheep find a way to orbit there the sole
scuffs the floor where we can see the woodgrain through the hardened poison
the ball falls just to this side of the line or that
first prize is scooped from the tureen of the skull
we ride a ball through the universe
our brain and its system of toxic wells and kettle ponds
cooked to where amphibia can’t function
hard and white as justice’s eye
fixed in its socket
but the contaminated fake tear induces the eye
to weep overtime
as if clocked-in
for an endless succession of shifts
filling the alley with uselessness
finding a crack in the watchcase and collecting
to disnatal the gold hands that sweep a white face
offstage, a pile of dried hands heaped on a deck, stage hands,
a deranged accounting
a widow whose narrow black ringlets model history
in descending order:
an allele cleft like a willow wand a nerve that fires at will a dog’s nose
pushed to the ground to find water

i was a foreigner in my
own country.

two decades later
the four winds have nothing
to confess.

in my own country
in a crescendo of orifices
neon-lit trapeze.

well-dressed pacific arcades
that pack menaces
in their purses.

a mapmaker and her delirium.

absence made you famous.
thatch, firewood, inflamed files.

somehow the future comes from me.
i shouldn’t fuck with this pirouette.

stumbling is essential.

island of second light.

you glowering.

loved to pieces.

the unamerican night
of my sauerkrat years.

pulls reprisals and the nastiness
of the holy.

creams dry bones pushes dry bones.

in the wrong place
at the right time.
thank you for watering my plants.

beribboned gnome.
for these are variables. because.

far out may not be far
enough for me.

bitten by the guava.
the unexpected expects me.

shouting matches of shouting machines.
abstraction can be hard
to square here. because.

if the bittersweetness of a funhouse.
if i told her and continue to tell her.
if she is no closer to being knowable.

through the riot and serenity.
in one and the same emptiness
from one and the same nothingness.

erasable profusion.
what’s worse than cliched advice.
a swirl is calling.

savour the shadow.

echeveria and clumsiness.
paddleboards all day long.

walking barefoot beside the car while
the sheep are four miles ahead.

blindfold of half-fire.
what was left over from
adjacent predators.

joys and other concerns.

it takes mayhem to make us
marvellous together.

starting with the birth of disruption.

its afterbooks.
its coretint.

and to pretend
and insist that every
utterance is a rebuke.

a ship’s attempt
to remind us for little
did we know.

its aftertremors.
its quadrangles.

wherever bad luck might lurk.
whatever it takes for noons
to sail into spikes.

to converge or diverge
i don’t mind that at all.

footprints, magnets, shovels.

this ground of splay this crossbeam.

from parentheses to ill-tempered chartreuse.

nozzles on the loose.

a double-hand transplant
a virgin flight
a contract extended once the rape came to light

emergency lights indicating an exit
double handed, ambidextrous,
ampule of sinister light
contracts, and the plane up blows up.
a contract extended once the rape came to light

light fills the nasal chambers of the sky
then winds—–wind instruments—–split reeds,
bell wethers, the tethers worn by brides,
a contract extended once the rape came to light

cotalid, codicil, cote de ciel
hotel-brained, hotel-skied, a necropolis in the sky
a planeful of tourists all resting in shreds
cold twists of brains for hoarding up words
for the wintry phasic white-out once the rape comes to light

so hard to write poetry
so easy to crack it out of the brain
with a hammer
the study of the self which is the autopsy
is really the study of an other
no one ever ran their own
if only escape could be made down doom’s cold drainpipe—–
we’re blown to powder to decorate
the wedding chamber of the sky
when the contract’s extended
when the rape comes to light

those drains groan everywhere but we can’t fit inside—–
yet money and hope run away for the sewer—–like newlyweds—–
wrist cuffed to wrist, dumped in a river—–
in our going away coats and embroidered slippers—–
an ultraviolet vault, a volley of songbirds, the secret of flight,
valley where the pharaoh packed his sleigh
for an extended contract, an infinite run
the transplanted hand
the thumb and forefinger
make the shape of the eye of the sun

contract, pupil, or else split wide
ad nauseum, do the Moebius twist
the audience of tourists rises as one
from the dead and now the terrorists their chests
embroidered with bandolieres like evening dress
rest in the red velvet seats; starlings startle in the eaves,
their jackets of muscles tightens at the bone
contract an avian instinct, they lift
in a single cardiac fist

clutch of masks
concealed in the ceiling
descends upon a drop in pressure
upon a loss
into the neat lap of the virgin; like a shower of rubies
a ringtone cheers

the pilot’s fist
on the throttle the bottleneck lists
the mountain rises up the charts with a  bullet
canal that separates
cranial hemispheres, tilt,
override. spill thicket. brain-thickened, syrupy light.

the psychopath and the psychopomp
pick out a glittery path
the echocardiogram roosts in the cardcatalogue
an alphabet shudders and contracts
oxheads, annelids, demijohns:
ziplines to the vanishing point like doomed fucks
cracked music of the spheres
the doomed flock goes skeining, careening, careering over the fields
like clockwork in a bombed out hall of records
toothy rain

tereu says the nightingale
debris says the ortolan, the bird with the prettiest tongue
from inside the oesophagus of the president or the priest
birds in the drainpipe twittering all day long
birds in the upswept hairdo and sweater set
birds in the spinal column
grease the spine of mine own song
a spine like a ramroad
for cleaning the rifle’s sinuses
bullet like an embedded journalist
I carry it in my heart
bandage your head to your neck

wanting my flight feathers to return to wool
wrap my heads in the wool martyr’s fillets
carding the wool, my fingers to split and return to feathers or fronds
the little dendritic diadems worn by the hoariest seeds
fling themselves like thoughts into the coats of animals
the skin of my feet splits in my cleats
and screaming peels my throat back and broadcasts
I am hoofhearted, seed coated
lung collapsed rusted
in the flatbed and reverted
to a frogspawn and isinglass
I retract
my flock of spawnéd daughters and I’m gone