i should get out of bed,
i should spend the afternoon
peeling the stenciled papers
and coats of old paint
from the walls

i could use the extra space,
the bricks could use some air

then, sticking to the theme,
brush my teeth, clean my ears,
blow my nose, eyedrops, emetic,
enema, diuretic, a good bleeding,
a quick beating, four shots of gin,
martinis stripped down, a breather,
four more, five more, tears,
four more, morning

waking a little erased,
closer to empty, like my room

For those who have never swum
past the sharp edge
of the coast’s sandy trim,
let me tell you,
there is no sea floor,
it is water all the way down
to China

Europe, Africa, Asia,
North and South America,
Australia and the Antarctic,
the islands in clusters
and alone, float
like crackers on soup

For those who have never dug a hole,
the lawns, the parks and the fields
are like carpets slung between the roads

And beneath the roads,
and beneath the foundations of our houses,
there is nothing but space,
space without stars,
punctured by tree roots
and the sharp ends of fence posts

For those who never climbed a tree
when they were light enough
to get high enough
to reach through the canopy,
the sky is concave and cool to the touch,
it feels like the underside
of a porcelain bowl

It is a miserable cup,
this damp hollow
in an otherwise dry city

How did I arrive?
Like the standing water
I trickled down a hill

The water can’t climb,
but it escapes

I can’t climb either,
Sisyphus is the rock,
or follow the water
into the air

I wait with the houses and roads,
to crumble and steep,
to stain the water like tea

today is long gone,
longer than you would guess,
and reading this, now,
now is a memory

now is being played out
in a lingering farewell
between your ashes
scattered in the sea,
separated by currents

now is being played out
in empty space

now is being played out
in a tiny dot
made from everything

but all that is later,
all now is later,
and you are its vessel,
bright as the clay
that forms you,
collecting each moment
like a river catches rain

i watched a man
jump out of a plane
without a parachute

skinny dipping
in the sky

It has been the summer of the lime.
They have been in inexhaustible supply,
always a cluster of them waiting
in the bottom of a fruit bowl
in whosever kitchen we were in.

They mostly went into drinks, mostly squeezed
into triple sec after the tequila was gone
to make Marge, our placid, degenerate Margarita
with the crazy left out, whose magic ingredient
was ice cubes in the shape of little crosses.

Over the summer the price of limes dipped and rose
as it always does. One day cheap, the next day gouging.
As many as we consumed, we remained detached
from their volatile fortune. We were steady like the heat.

Mannequins, no matter how detailed,
are betrayed by their flat, plastic skin.

Real skin has thin translucent layers
the light shines into, gathers evidence
of the shyness you are hiding,
and then shines back out again,
carrying your rosy blush into plain sight.

Milk is the same, as are some stones.
Jade, the green stone emperors’ favour,
is one, and, no jeweller, I discovered late
it has a sister that is pink and pale
as the most tender flesh and shares
the same translucence.

You already knew this, and more.
“Jade gates,” you told me,
“are opened with a jade key.”

the second half of summer is wet
with each drop the first sweated
out of us

all the humidity is ours, and the clouds
that crowd the sky, twisting together
like they might wring themselves dry –
we made them in much the same way

also ours - the rain that is coming.
the first anticipatory drops
fell fat and warm into our open hands
weeks ago

a short spiral of your hair,
a black spring,
clings
to my tongue,

taken from a knot
you waited days
to have undone.

come, my love, and help me forget
that love helps me forget
what clever monkeys we are,

that this love is chemistry,
and the chemistry is atoms
and atoms are made of pieces
made of pieces made, perhaps,
of pieces.

and help me forget
that you helped me forget
in exactly, exactly, this way
an infinite number of times before
and we have that many more to go.

my love, help me remember
there is just this moment
and everything is real.