At first, it seemed like a poet’s dream day job. A job of watching, then describing.

The cartels were losing the battle. Everywhere they dug they met a new obstacle. There was freshly poured concrete down their northwest tunnel. They discovered recently installed top of the line micro security cameras. They came face to face with growling German shepherds. 

I’ve mooned away my marriage, / grounded it, ripped the fuselage / in two, or is the better metaphor
to say I heard the countdown go / from ten to zero and didn’t even / try to stop my wife from breaking / the gravity of disaster planet me?

On that rainy morning of that last day, I delivered some homemade ajiaco, Colombian chicken soup, to my mother, and my ex-girlfriend who was expecting a child that might be her husband’s or mine.

The Club pursues a shaky business proposition, and Jax must decide where his allegiances lie.

Allegiances are tested as a business deal heads south, and Jax must choose between the Club

The night I saw you on TV, I thought of the toads.

The ones we carried onto the roof of your house with a slingshot that afternoon when no one was home.

Some songs sound best under the sun. Some are night-blooming. These you hear clear in dark-dark; maybe there are stars.

“I Go To Sleep (demo),” The Kinks

Play this first, especially if

Field Notes in Haiku

I hear a giant
lives in a stardew valley
I follow the signs:

a knot of sparrows
outlines the shape of a nose—
cold autumn rainfall

the field of yarrow
turned

The day we met, you told me Los Angeles was home but that you were born in Houston. It was the insurance company’s orientation day for new employees, and you were standing alone at the far table, looking around with hesitation, like a child on the first day of school.

“Bit ‘im in the jugular,” the truck driver tells me about the bear ten feet away, describing the day the bear went crazy.

She’s still searching for hers but isn’t jealous. She’s happy I finally found my med. I take it in the morning with my cereal, and she knows to leave the milk out. I can put down a whole box at once

I was a loser and I was a fifth grader and I was hoping, never prayin’, to watch somebody open a can of whoop ass on The Stevens Twins. Somebody needed to sell more ten pound bags of sweet vidalia

The morning of our second date I drew a card – now I can’t remember which one...

you know me like an artifact

1

[meimei’s a meatness sis slug of blood boat the body tiger the teeth selfie tongue selfie chintilt selfie lilt her lily pucker her puss pin her skin back tap her mouth flap saps herself a shelf

It's work that I want to do, and then sometimes it's just fun, and then sometimes it's a pain in the ass.

chew on that witya brainteeth!

mother moon stop calling me

Dogwood 

I knew the blossoms. I caught 
them all. My mother
won’t let me forget this.  
But really, what’s so bad about 
marking this way?  
The tree saying she was this high
the summer she

 between what is love and what is fixation of 

I live my life by white lies.
And poetry is white lies.
Second language is white lies too.
As well as the first.
But language is the only way 
to hide love.
White, black, transparent,
or

I’ll obsess over Hozier all summer.

I engrave myself into the floor