Nights on the glass rug


God give me
a walking city

through the door at midnight
through again at one

boats going by or trains
lines where light begins

everything less wholesome
than a rhyming little song



For E



Since your death we

haven't spoken but I remember the

way you speak, with

your collarbones wrists and

black hair, limping

through the flat room like

it was a mountain




Dear American Jesus




May you and the moon queen

keep our stripmalls safe





Summer Poem



Been alive too long and somewhere


there was a window



Heat Wave, October, Topanga



A warm battle for consideration today,

to be considered. We both dream

of guilt and death and guns. All night

the fan shook and the walls shone and

the croaking of frogs was missing from

the stream which had dried out. Without

metaphor I'd like to tell you that the cactus


For Zoe (in Texas)


Heave the





Y'r shoulder


and become



'R else



A grand name for a grey pond

It took all my strength to

Not fall into the lake

Clumsy thing with her


Twist-turn of the head like a

Death-defying acrobat ic

Dip of the body I


Watched you clutch at your own

Chin, your throat, and twist.


Carried under water-lights

Through chest-high sting

Of cold, then shoulder-high



With the clouds too close


And one eye on the shore.



the wave and its collar

the moon and its flowers


to swan in-to the sea

filled and undressed,



to hear _____ explode





You tell me you want to die I don't believe it anymore. When you tell me it means you don't know what it means. If you really don't want to live you don't tell it. You don't tell it when you know what it means.


Living  Still Living


Mostly I don't want to go anywhere but this world.




Don't make this about women. Poets have always hated each other.




The tree is green. The porta potty is green. I wish I had a motocycle.


Living And Waterfalls And


So hard and so soft all at the same time.

Second Chinatown Poem



Between the train station steps


and my house somewhere still


walking watching you


adjust your watch clouds


sliding over and under


sidewalk turning over grey


yellow whenever light came


through I said,


It really feels like a Wednesday


doesn't it and you said,



(Something about clouds)


They reached their fingers toward the moon were

there for a second went away. I know how I would

like to be touched.

Called "Irreverent"


All the clover by the door has been fingered

through for fours but it’s threes, all threes

And what feels better anyhow

to live on other people’s dimes

or your own pennies

And who cares

Absolute Ideal



Pray to whatever god you like, but

there is no replacement for that

pantheon of girls with heavy-lidded eyes

who look up at you over palms, through haze

with that heavy-angled look and you say,

it was as if she knew me.

I’d like to know where you grew up


In a valley


I don’t know much




On a mountain,

so now

I believe

everything I hear



Our beautiful landlocked thing



Meaning: grids

Meaning: lines



And so life


And so lawns,

so palms, so pools,



Screens, to cars, to rooms,

To want


To do

or want too much



you want

to become a martyr

stay alive









woke up filled with (something)

Romantic, a feeling like

if I had a thousand dollars I

would fly to Italy or

get lasik for the apocalypse



Sun jar


Us: No more apocalyptic

than anyone who came before


us but we

learned how

to measure it

Car door: Open


Leave the notes


Come back to them



Moon: blue

as something else


The world

so uneven with

its blessings

Five Years


The sun blew open and

through the door

came you,

on your legs. Five years

Must be

Just long enough.

Wet Poem


Slow wily wide water

which bluffs

would try

Us again

Was wiser than

I know how

far to go

but allow myself

to be led


Berlin, Nevada


No, I didn't think I was in

the right place

But what place could be better

And how lovely that we get to choose.

Have you been to Berlin,

Nevada. You feel anything

just as much.

Romance vs. Liquid Times


I arrive hungry

I arrive


Please, try not to say anything obvious

even if that means you can't say




Everywhere you drive me

I've seen before, in a movie



Is it personality?

Or is it: cells firing

wet breathing

trauma reacting



Baby, if you died today

It wouldn't even make the news



"Care is not control," he told me


but ever since they wrote the Bible

Isn't it that the secret Is the word

Isn't it



In the year I stopped thinking

I went to New York City

I thought the yellow of the license

plates was obscene

and the sun was too bright

I looked into faces

and nobody made me nervous

I thought, what a relief

it is to not be in love


(on the Agnes Martin film)​


Gabriel walks through the desert

straight ahead without looking

like he's walked through it before

or a desert exactly like it

like when you walk through a party

in a city you've lived in too long

is how Gabriel walks through the desert



The moon rises softly

over white knuckles of conscience.

Glaciers carve glass, or

the glass drips with fog.

My hands grew so cold

that I forgot what I was holding.

The highway pours forward

like a slackening noose.