to do list

eagles

we can burn march now and find a mantra for april
something like strong thighs or notice purple things

i like that our throats are sore at the same time and i like
to think about purple you notice and the thighs that handle you

we can burn march now but don’t forget about the eagles;
13 eagles; the ones found dead in a row on the eastern shore.

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instead of my manuscript…

billie holiday

i like that
you like that
jazz music–the
old stuff–the
good stuff
that you like
that i like yes
that i like
you.

hear ye hear ye

this is important

olay night cream:
this smell is forever my mom at night

these are fine life things:
-thanking janitors
-walking into dive bars in winter
-the cheese counter
-saying fuck you to shame
-words like nectar and percolate
-bottlenecks tilting at lips, the slosh
-keeping corks and crunchy receipts

this is fun to do:
determine opposite states based on your personal associations
(PA and GA
MT and CT)

this is important:
-there are movies you won’t watch tonight
that could change you somehow
-static electricity can kill.

pheromones on fleek

today we smell spring

hey you it’s pheromone season.
it’s unzip my chest and stock it with champagne season replace
my heart with red orange venus season it’s omg he he she season
it’s where’s my favorite dress i’ve got lips that like that
spot beneath your ear season.

post valentine’s day

concerning the heart

on monday mornings i do high intensity interval training workouts
to feel good about the rate of my heart beat.

i also make pancakes and try to avoid anger when
the first one doesn’t flip with grace.
sometimes i shape them into breakfast hearts.

i heard someone on the radio say being alive is being sad
so i held pancake in my mouth for a moment and
concentrated on the sound of my heart.

traffic ain’t so bad

rubber necking

i prefer rubbing. necking.
bedlam in backseats
coitus on earth, on cruise
stoplight skin tangled in tires
man made and making man
making it     making heads
turn, roll passengers howl
bumpers melt until stuck—
one big road jam, dark
and spreading.

on death

where milk and honey flows

fast forward to the sex scene and watch it twice. make pancakes all week. forget about potholes. rinse your dishes. be topless and dust shelves. kill ego. find it again. sit next to someone much older than you. call upper management just to check in. google phobias. make an unattractive scrapbook. go to home depot and walk down the aisles. get angry at jars that won’t open. drop them on the floor. cry about the jars. give your eyes screen burn. wonder about architecture. wonder about coding. watch someone chew bread, spread butter. eat baltimore—or eat your city. use the word rapture. remind yourself: we are dying.

instead of my day job

hello february

i think 2016 likes me
i am trying out lavender as a scent for my neck and wrists
split me open, spill the contents of january onto the floor:
-immunity b/c of ginger and hot water,
-my cat blinking slow into sleep,
-licked yogurt foil,
-a chunk of dark lipstick.

my grandpa died in december
my grandma still walks the hallway to his bedroom each morning,
to check on him, compare dreams

i eat sherbet and cry because 14 cows
died during the blizzard – crushed by a barn roof.

those man quads tho

a run around druid hill reservoir

outside is lemon and legs
the quads the calves
thundering my thighs

outside is thick with you
i’m picking up your peelings and rinds
pushing open the reservoir
to sink – to save your pieces for later

angsty blizzard po um

citizens

imagine no bodies,
just skeletons,

the pelvic blooms,
sun skimming thru delicate
strips of forearm
and rib,

imagine passing each other,
opening doors, stumbling,
craniums nodding hello.

i would love to be bone
with you, clutch each other
like notched timber,
forgetting lips, their influence.

how nice to forgo blood and static,
to have awareness of marrow.