They bend over to smell every mouth, determining causes of death: black plague, weakened heart
what do i call it when you get us beers and assure me that everything's fine and we never talk about it ever again?
driving in cars feels like a new body, new dimension to fuck up.
Nietszche. N-I-E-T-Z-S-C-H-E written a hundred times. I said it wrong. Cha! Cha! Cha!
all the pillows have fallen i keep playing a song till it enters my blood because there is no space
She asked if I had a sister; I lost her to the halfway. Yes to the twinning, the sticking, the stench
With the fake crack of the fake gun a silence falls over the county.
little boy drags his belly across the yellow grass, squeaks it like a violin. arms out, pretends he is a ship or airplane
Where are you in my delusions? With any luck, I narrate you into diver cobbler or blacksmith, a village treasure. Behold—offstage, the forest crone spinning blind for no one.
silence come across saturdays sigh again they called you in to excuse making excuses
I will split something unseen, and this invisible will transform my world in an instant.
KISS ME NOW, YOU SPHINX. KISS ME NOW, MR. WONDERFUL. KISS ME NOW, KISSING TREE. KISS ME NOW, KISSING BOOTH GIRL.
so open a sky so full just him and he is holding my hand and I am when the clouds part who
and you told me you hated my cigarettes but missed me very much and I tried to say the same thing back but couldn’t stop coughing.
Republican Presidential Debate, August 6, 2015, Cleveland, Ohio Republican Presidential Debate, September 16, 2015, Simi Valley, California
Angry girls, say all our neck-bearded uncles: assholes, we say of them ‘Bout them teeth, say our mommies and their endless Tampax-lilted Marlboros
My crooked teeth are weary of their sockets. They’re falling out in mounds as if my mouth
Cut the meat / to release its ghosts / Trade yourself / for a girl / who thinks meat is making / a comeback. In / fifth grade my teacher called me / a chink in the armor /
An assault on the stationary floor. The gathering middle. Pray the field clean. Ceramic salsify lies in light. Velvet falcon buttoned in pearls. To your mouth.
I don’t why she did this, says my mother on the phone, she must have...I don’t know..., and I know by now to wait.
Do you remember eating Scottish oysters in Kew Gardens, the bridge overhead? It was Valentine’s Day, light shifted through the Victorian greenhouse.
Suppose he came to know me as he wrote in Sharpie on my belly: whore, or heroine
The name is called out here on camera.
i cry because snakes don’t deserve to get shot for just being snakes i can swim with them, it’s okay, just put me in that spot
Flag prayers to the wind. Jean pulls up her black hoody. You have to protect your face from the wind sez Mina. The cold wind can damage the skin’s barrier.
never mind who dropped it who slipped up there's yogurt
of her serial geography— her vertiginous hair all flames on a dark sun, remains maroon with vertigo, washed ashore
let’s lay hands on her said the lord. let’s lay hands on her said the soror. let’s lay hands on her said the black man.
runs down my leg Untested as a house plant Tempering
Sweet orange almond crumbs stuck to my sweater front as I wobbled into the dining room—having eaten all the leftover naan, flat-out in a stupor on the couch.
to burning—if i light the sari on the clothesline—if there are many saris hung hem to hem—if they pass the flame like an infant : hem to hem—
on second thought i tried something that was not. i brought my camera thinking i would take beautiful pictures, it was a place to take beautiful pictures. i felt a need to try and capture these.
Last night there was a fountain in the park, and my friend said it’s less a fountain than a body covered in water.
*FINAL ROSE is a book-length poem / a body of images / a collection of screenshots taken by Halie Theoharides while watching episodes of The Bachelor. FINAL ROSE will be out from Mount Analogue next fall.
He shows us his backyard, roosters, limes, a coconut tree, dasheen, aloe like spiked tails. One, I can sell for $50, he says. We ride in a blue-painted boat to the island of birds.
I love you, suet couch. I love you, plastic rug I slathered in an extra-virgin sauce.
Listen. I’ll be better. I stuffed it into every pocket of your clothing I could find.
I’ll be here / slipping on the peels / laughing / slipping on the peels / laughing / practicing for your arrival / a word about what you are afraid of / maybe / meet me here / I am so lonely
FIELD GUIDE TO ONENESS It does not begin in an empty room, as one would expect. The field you are standing in does not look onto nothing. In fact,
black medulla “I emulate the black which is a cry but which is not voluptuary like a warning, which has lines, cuts, drips, aspirates, trembles with horror, O black
On Taking Up a Matryoshka Doll Collection All the people I am missing Are stacked matryoshka doll style inside you LOST: LAVENDER AT THE KITCHEN SINK. STEMS FRAYED. Everyone
NATURE POEM from Nature Poem When a star dies, it becomes any number of things like a black hole, or a documentary. The early universe of our skin was
Lessen, voluptuous feathers. Fold up fanwise, hide behind your sisters, single
//a spooky mulder field day i want to meet these aliens. it’s strange that i haven’t. have they landed? i hear a balding man call this tiny woman an
At the Sculpture Museum As a child my mother broke the soft wall of my face .....................................The curvilinear of my torn cheek .....................................the model of an arc .....................................floating beneath
in good dreams I’m no longer vulpes vulpes at the table.
for me & them & us I & it can happen in the house & it can happen in the pub & it can be in the dinner conversation
Everglades in High Heat mangroves like finger bones dipping into tea stained water warped and bent gators are trained to follow the whirring fan so customers can snap photo
RED washing down decongestants with cold coffee reading ur glistening emails just a free-floaty fragment without a torso as if what I was possessed by was your missing arm
THE RINGMASTER for CK Williams The ringmaster, gaunt in his overalls, seventeen feet tall with a cigarette, leans on the big top. The lions are early, the tamer, late.
Winter in the Wismar 1 Rain bloats the city, sets my marrow to wax. My neighbour's beard is stained an ochre O. I rarely leave. The shrill birds echo
SARDINE SPINE Never have I seen vertebrae so small, so white like a strand of pearls without luster, unclasped. The spine is tenuous, made for a touch more tender
QUIET INDUSTRY I am sucking on pearls and roasting pears on my body. the vibrant splendour of lilac season is fleeting as a love affair leaves me lush and
FROM NOTHING GRANTED who wants to be why God doesn’t come her neck
ON LEAVING BERLIN I sold all my books for a rock of butter and a glass of almond milk A rock and an almond traded for all those hours
LOGICAL POSITIVISM Oh, these gorgeous days, whatever's the opposite of pathetic fallacy. The glorious milkdrop sun; the walnut heart's rotten meat. . HERON If only I were a heron,
FUCKING DAFFODILS I turned off. Leaky spout my mind was. I turned off and kept the lights on while I slept. We fucked like deer in prairie grass: camouflaged,
CUPIO DISSOLVI a 30 ft. statue of the magyar riding horseback and my sister climbs it in a flimsy party dress panties showing hoists herself right up the tail
excerpt from Baveuse (2015), available at Electric Cereal WOMEN WRINKLE You have to be passive to wear Silk . Touching Louise Bourgeois’s spider sculpture was exciting, almost sexual. Ryan didn’t
Fireflies of the Apocalypse It seems natural that I should want to keep my blood, want teeth and closed circles here in lakefront country. I step into the cool
510 Permanence of five o'clock At the in-laws', tired Sunday, Where the light rams down Into soupy, roadside weed, Where the chickadees chatter about A sop of misty seed:
CONTINUATION A trend of weather emerges: decomposition. The lake is frozen now, the fish strangled. Any weeds, any green there was, flattened by a cap of glass. The fallen
EARLY EVOLUTION Be a doll now, you say, and I am become one I pluck a flock raw for its plumage Strip, I say, and birds strip bare I
Elephant Man: Dark Matter Joseph-called-John moves between the pillars on the stage to glimpse the pixies in the lights before him. He creeps close to them and asks every
SO GROUNDED For Irene Koronas I cling to objects, for example: a leather-bound book, almanacs, sprigs of dried mints. I would like to build a museum like Pamuk has
SAND PIPERS Chuck clamshells at them for acting mindlessly, these little joggers in bird suits, talons tapping the glass tabletop of ocean spill. They chirp, bicycle miles of sine
It's the best I can do—to catch myself if I fall, to not break my teeth.
The internet is just a couple of boxes in Utah— every summer at Bonneville, land speed records
We wrestle at the limits of forgiveness, always more to say that's not worth the saying.
To anyone who’s ever walked around it, to anyone there right now, lay down your stones, the pyramid does not point north.
Blue sparks flash through the windows of the sleepless as the last train scrapes the elevated rails and rumbles away into the glowing orange dark.
WHAT ABOUT THE GAY PENGUINS AND THEIR TINY UNHATCHED EGG
The truth about the coat I traded half my records for
I cannot describe the perfect bruises and bite marks on your arm, but Elizabeth Bishop could.
Here I have wept. Mold on the walls, roar of the hard, divine sentence on the weak and the lost.
About craving, about arthritic haunches on big dogs the distance between childhood and that second thigh
MAHLER’S NINTH Gone, the pile of shut black mouths bowled in cold water. Gone the thyme and tang of shallot, as the garlic burns in the oil. They whir
There is a roof one man’s body makes over another. Pine needles on sharp grains. This is what I remember.
My carriage spills waste. Brown lachrymose blood along crotchlines. My carriage spills waste. Metabolized yellow.
Feminists fuck like a real man You’re always unfastening buttons you don’t need to.
(A skilled calligrapher will tell you that they should “give the impression of a sail filled by the wind.” But a poor first stroke, and the others will “look like lost cotton wads tossed by the wind.”)
Never past the pink concrete altar where roasted the Christmas pig Never under a hush, slipping off my shoes, letting you check the door first
and I guess it looked bad or looked–– how boyish
I pick plums from a tree in your backyard for breakfast and brush the fur off with my nightgown.
I misread “so many people killing it this month” as “so many people killing this month.”
like ~ the space between magnets I blossom
I wanted it to be like a movie where interrogation leads to advanced interrogation and what you learn in school
He is ryegrass. The voices of his heart like tensed wings; ripples in the serum of a stoppered vial. Death is the only word in any language sleeping won't spoil.
the body so like surgeons or Michelangelo we dissected dogs and cats and called it art and took our pictures with the work and turned this fear to wonder
or butterflies. blunt sides of pins. the polyester blanket soaked
Dawn outside his chambers disintegrates, retreats, Anxious, breath unwholesome, like the stricken man.
I hadn’t been able to read it in the darkness of the hall. The train was late, all the blueness was becoming gold.
Ladies, this license plate is your journal, an everlasting ticket up a Northern route where you’ll still have access to electroshock therapy through some faux forest in the middle of the US.
Where the way this combo tongue and squeeze the air tells me it’s John C’s b’day-O yes; he had a nice place on Long Island
About a third space, a place of a community and a place of solitude.
Past the stone angel heads and over the calm brutes, the freeway thins and wears white like a patient tonight.
a wayward protein bloodletting from unforeseen orifice gathers us to elongated grass-fed hours
TENDER DATA Inquiries feel like enemas What is it called when your fist blooms inside someone The civilization I live in has lost its purpose so I turn to