Saturday, February 28, 2009

you say it like you know
the answer, you treat me
like prized ruins

you're seeing clearly now,
you treat me
like prized ruins.
Storms
like a photograph
teach about moments
how to gape at rain
the smell of rain
if Innocence was
anything, she'd be
dreaming Deep Creek, thinking
sometimes grinding metal
smells like sparklers
wearing feathers, retaining
palm branches after the wind.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

I want your raindrops
on my forehead
and your trees
down my arms too.

Burn it to the end,
finish the round:
pool keeping
the nights going
the sets of Thursdays
were the same
now we're talking
they were angry
and pissed
and they were the same
as were Saturdays
we would drive
as fast as we could
stand to
at night
and we'd
lay in the street
trying to make
out the stars
trying not to
let it show
slow enough
like sick days as a kid
yet nobody is scared
enough to want more.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

No faith but what
she makes
is more like it.

No fate but
what he reads
about
Is how they spend
their mornings tussling,
watching a sunrise
and fearing
what it will bring.
Is being Saturday
stuck on punk
I don't know
how to say it
better than yous
you say it like
you know the answer
you treat me
like prized ruins
flush it with a picture
Is sight-hounds are sad
in the rain
like sitting still
like a tattoo
that says
water's calm
before it boils.