No-Tell Motel

Action Yes


We wanted it far more finger to nose; low pile

on knee-high seats, haywired. We wanted it shamrock,

erotic wind. Bright city: we’re doing it. Lightning:

come in. We wanted it come to rest on the craps table,

so we would feel so very money storm then.

Better than tens. Whirling lights, then.

We wanted it get down to steer & crustacean,

a triple-cash up to the oompah they were & galleons.

We wanted it so exponential in the gold award castle.

Pluto, oh petunia, can you see we wanted it so extra mega

that we swallowed those lucky & all their ladies, their

trucking & weekend. We were feeler, hoof

& fruit multiplier. We wanted it so sizzling seven,

we fell into a doghouse for king watermelon. For you,

a doghouse, for balloon bars. We did it so diamond deluxe,

we wanted it more pretend, so we did it on Santa’s

jackpot bed & felt so very more big pulsar then--

(published in Interim)


While They Laugh, Laugh at Me,

At Me, Fled to the Drear

Crapulent, tele-kinetic ha! & gross  over-determinate

           & candy  root-rot

in the sure sure sure, is the “O,”     blown in,

on the “1” that timed     out:

            Y dotes garish on his fabulous prick!

Petronas & Empire, Sears &


what orbs afford,the cosmos

can’t stifle &

               to light a pastille & X, with her head,

chews a petunia:

                abandoned      strip mine, out back.



We have momentarily

lost our joy. Our very protons

are plotting against us, as we lie on the rug,

talking of letters. I know “C”

as abulia blue, to you,

she’s red -- you keep telling me. We know

of ourselves that which is lesser, though

we spell out the greater. Alphabug,

to thine own appendages

be dictator, be true.

Thine own punctilio, increase.

You never blink.

Shall we meet at the entry of milium & milk?

Shall I come as Mother,

repressed & replete? When they find my boy,

face down, in a pool, I’ll cry ten times

the pool & maybe

ten times

my drink. Oh, Alphabug,

our diseases

are approaching & we

might never bloom. We may never

go forth & plant a psychic kiss

in an irreducible room,

or wear our green cheeks

out. We pray:  Oh coathanger, clothespin,

plate -- our outlooks,

our pull cords

are the cruces of these days &                     

derelicts we are, but more than the sum

of some simple eyes &

prolegs &

then, we say it again. Amen. Amen. Should we find

the perfect pines for our caskets

& mark them, plainly,

with my “O”s & your “X”s, tomorrow,

we’ll lolly,

fictitious & vapors. Today,

we say: no masses, no metastasis.


From Dear Dear Advancer

On the first morning god moved a desk in the sky

over the harbor and said let there be your hand

moving over my dress in the smallest park

It was good to be full of oxygen beside the ships

Every surface of everything good to my brain

Will you be a good keeper of my brain lug it

with you over pavements and arterials

in the distant future or next week

Rather than be here I could be a ship’s captain

I could be a Nazi hunter rather than your fresh start

I could be that bee over there and you know nothing

more of me than a faint buzz and you will

not bathe me nor will you write me a check

for anything ever but your giant hand is writing

a check on my cerebrum that dark rooms will honor

And the dark room is an evil dream about a baby

And to be with you I will give up one baby

or a million babies it doesn’t matter it’s either

For you are as ancient as river’s path and you

are the mastodon that bathes in it and I trust you

and I will talk you into being a happy person

You will hear my words in your head and not

know why you’re smiling but I will know

Our ghost child is sitting beside you at day’s

beginning and the sun is stroking her head

And how we loved you on this first day and always

(published in Lo-Ball)