Show Poem: August 27, 2016 Lawrence, KS @ Replay Lounge #poetry 


The locust song
A larger Jeff Tweedy

Pausing for our jockeys
To brush our manes

Opening our eye slits

By the hearth we wait
For our urges to instruct
The next move

Quick trip is laughing at us
Pink drink expands
The rear view mirror

Rain drops turn to rasins

Diamonds are jokes
Falling from a truck
We dust them off
And put them in our pockets

There are many kids
In the sour patch
Looking for good homes

We pay extra for the head

No fighting in the car
No sex in the champagne room

Too much chicken
For one day

No dancing in the car
No money for nothing

I expected less

Or nothing less expected

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For My Sister and Prince

Sticking to the floor in the seventh grade
I knew nothing about spirit 
A plan inspired by mistakes

Sister you were there for me
Even when you weren’t 

You lent me your crocodiles 
And hammer swinging horsemen

To fight the echoes in the hallway 
The padded dicks that 
Slammed gainst the lockers 

Peroxide future 
Earrings and feathers 
I drank the purple passion

Lied to the college girl
Followed the code 
I made up as I went along 
And did all my best work in basements 

Show Poem: August 20, 2016 KC, MO @ Tronkel House #poetry 


The elephant removes
His foot from my back

I awake
Legs V shaped ready for the world
Eyes like sparklers underwater

The ice is extremely then
But I will lose the weight
Required to skate by

I’ve learned a lot
From a fish’s eyes

Scheduling work
Outside the pain clinic

Sunshine disposal
A new zoo army

I hear the dogs barking
At the distant rain

A condescending smile
Perhaps I need it more than
I care to admit

Or perhaps I am just
Tickling myself in a mirror

The feather touches
My knowing under side

And then it floats away

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Digest the orphan

The remaining hairs
Continue to grow
And will need to be cut
By someone

Make a simple thing difficult
A separate bag for each item 

Washing preservatives

Timers and alarms
Notes and instructions

Proof of a worked life 

To digest the orphan
Who has traveled
So far to meet you 

Do not worry father
I will be there to cut your hair 

The way I cut the grass

No smell of garlic
But with a gentile hand 

More gentile than you are accustomed to 

Night walking

It’s so easy to give a
child a thankless gift 

Walking the pitted pavement
On a warm summer evening 

Holding court
beneath the

Nippled street lamp
Squirting light

Into the sobbing
Mouth of darkness 

Sunburned back
Cut weeds 

Arrows tattooed in concrete
Magic words
Sprayed across walls 

The sky rips open soft
Glowing brainless matter
Putting me as close
As I am permitted 

If I could share
This bliss of isolation 

That’s how much
I love you