Of form & content
In airports that can
Only be bridged
By a complex
Framework of hatreds
That herald the dark.
There is something I love
About the wolves lying
In wait. I am a friend
Of the animals.
here comes the mojo
The theme of this place is
Go big & sloppy. So call me
Back & let’s cuddle. We’ve got to get
This thing started. Let’s spoon until
It goes dark. Until our organs
Are cut out of prone, bathtub-
Cradled bodies. A jack-in-the-box
On the toilet. Long for what you
Always find in your pockets instead
Of flinching when your shrunken
Head springs out of the toy box
Like a sock monkey. Stop, drop
& roll doesn’t work because you can’t
Feel your body. The shower spits on.
Vomit clogs the drain. Oh how it changes
Everything—this kind of kingliness.
Let yourself feel it. Let it come
Down. You are the amphetamine
& midnight Vegas type
Of Elvis. Mad eyed & hip shaking—
Cherry, cherry, spin—gimme
Gimme that jackpot of believing.
california hates you
The golden rat reclines & gnaws on the aloe
plant with the sky empty of clouds this
day just like yesterday & the one before it if you
think I’m going to cum with the curtains
not open you don’t know me at all my breath taken
away it is a shame we have to say good-bye
every seven years to our old flesh all those jackets
of flaking skin my closet is filled with them
the blurry year of sunlight making the last one rough
as corduroy like bacon like turned & dried out
garden dirt instead it might be nice if the layers piled
& grew atop each other so the world’s weight
might be something shoulderable something to shift
to the other arm as you whoosh open
your enormous umbrella when the deluge starts
purpledark & splatting the sidewalk on down
beautification campaign
Liposuction for everyone who can recite
the Pledge of Allegiance! Lip gloss, Lee
Press-On Nails arrive weekly in the mail.
The turkey is always fat free & the cottage
cheese is nothing but protein. Helicopters
drop leaflets, but in truth, no one understands
the food pyramid. & so I’m inconsolable—
I can’t get rid of these love handles. The woman
in the radio tells me to eat more hearts
of palm but I don’t know
what they look like. Bundles of skin-
tight tracksuits are thrown on each stoop
like the morning paper & I think gastric
bypass is the answer for me. I stay up late
& cut out coupons for Botox injections,
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