SHOOT ME IN THE HEAD

sparrow of my girl's arm, her arm as
she leans & they are each a bride
each dark & facing a big american
breakfast

what? you ate america for breakfast?
oh! an american breakfast. today
at dinner, she asked me if i ever
went camping in the woods & ran around
naked because she knows her sister
and i have gone skinny-dipping but
i can't remember where or when

prettiest girl to a brick wall
never been so in love
with a breakfast, never been
never been never been so far
from the water, from taking off
my clothes, never been so far
from home & the softness of her
body is there. is there another
reason? is why i find this so hard
because of the asymmetry--the
you & me, the we / we walked the
railroad bridge, above water level
one afternoon somewhere between
the roof we couldn't make it to
and the edge of the rest
of the days all melt together,
running like kohl in the rain.
without something there is something
missing. some brick wall: can't move
past not yet--myopic, maybe.

i am unfamiliar with your
habits, which form around us
as crazy masks. & who would
you say could argue & bitterly
mistake? who could
mistake what we have? how
many words could undo? & the
power of my dream of her is
a path unlike silk or woods.
your face, god, your face.

three green apples on the kitchen
counter--this is what i have,
all of what i can contain from,
obtain, remain--i guess, really
all i have left: what things
have we given, gifted what
things we have gotten, accepted.
at the end of the month i bleed
everything i have found. i
would never let you fall as hard
as i have--does this mean
i want to protect you or
that i want to own you?

the heart i found, puncturing
the gall bladder of the tree, sharp
onerous & a love gift for sweet
honeymooners. endings come as violent
swaths, sunset.
my heart for yours.
my heart for yours.
the roots break & stretch.
a blanket is your dirt body.
sickness in mine you cared for me.

the sky was full, blue, bloated.
my heart lives in my mouth,
i keep the sun in my mouth,
the sun is starting to sink
into my stomach i feel like this:
i don't know what i
am waiting for. the sky
flashes, blinks shut,
opens, shatters & conjoins.
my stomach knots like a tree.
the morning after i woke
up hard as an apple.
yesterday was the day before.
i wore a coat of leaves, sky, grass.

empty is the shirt you wore &
weightless without your chest.
in your chest has been your heart
now it is a clubhouse for the boys.
my sickness is for the boys &
i refuse to suckle an anchor.

an anchor is the cloud of grey
enjoyment. we think & we agree
that contentment is like
having a golden ring shoved & shoved
inside your pink mouth. sunset.
as long as it is after dark,
i will let you see me.
you happen to be gone.

something used to be there.
an indentation of space
where something used to be
the breath of my lover
the lover is my breath
damn sky--sun cloud
how much of grief
is guilt--selfish, sefish myopia.
grief, guilt--like
any other emotion
but harder to swallow.
it's this slant of the sun
i can't stomach--
i feel weightless, empty






[collab poem with baby lauren]

29.may.o9