To Mckenna, Sean, and Audrey

I cover my whole face in shaving cream now
Not just the area underneath my lips and neck
Remember
When you used to beg me to shave
My awkward first facial hairs
I remember telling you those hairs meant
Soon I would be a man
On nights we named after ourselves
As we both tried to burn paper with our minds

I can hold my beer now
You would be proud to watch me play masculinity and
Other new games we used to talk about as if
They were world important deep secrets
We were burying inside each other in
Those early mornings we used to claim for ourselves
But
I sleep on my back now
And you don’t know that
And my late nights aren’t always claimed mornings
Sometimes they’re just lost evenings

And still
Even though I can reach the top shelf
With arms that have known now how to hold hammers
And women
Still
Though the stories we wrote once
On napkins in backyards
Are now etched in walls that I actually live in
Still
I can not man-make myself in the mirror
And suits still fit me like
A scarecrow on a city bus
And I never button the top of any shirts
In an actual fear that I will choke
So
I don’t think I’m jumping into the brunt of my 20s with my head on straight
Because I still try to knock over cups with my mind
And sometimes
Get scarred at night

I just want to remind you
And myself as well
How unimportant it is, at least right now

Because there were nights
When we really wanted to
That I swear
We could make fire in our hands

Ten dollar gas can
Three dollar gas
Two block stroll
there, two block
back again

open door, uncap
stick in snoot
pour through the
long pause

 

 

 

 

 

 

remove, recap,
can in trunk
turn over once
sputter to death
turn over once
more
sputter to life

brake, shift
park neutral drive
gas, drive
and home and
sleep,

I suppose.

Always walk 

On the right side of the street
And on the left side of a woman 

You walk on the left side of a woman
Because 

In the case that 

Water splashes on you

It will splash on you
And not on her

You walk on the right side of the street

Because it makes you feel safe 

The left side of the street
Makes you innately uneasy 

And you can’t explain that

You are 

Innately uneasy


If you had the time

To rest your legs 

You would cut them off
Wouldn’t you 

If you had the time 

To soak your feet
You would drown them 

Wouldn’t you


If you had the time 

If you had the time 

If you had the time you would connect a helium tank
To your belly button
And expand or explode or inflate 

And any of those would be a okay 

Wouldn’t they


If you could be glass
You would not be blown 

You would be lightening on sand
Crack and shattered as essence
If you were a train 

You would be derailed
But you would not stop 

Only faster and faster
Crushing bushes and whole towns under your wheels
And you could not stop
Could you
And if you could, you would not 

Wouldn’t you


And if you 

Could blink more times per minutes
Or rub your eyes with more ferocity 

The things you imagine

Would be more in focus
Than the things that are actually there
And in fact 

You confuse those often

Stop blinking your own existence into alternates
Stop listing the universes in which you live
You are singular
And if you are not you still appear (at most times)
To embody something
Here
So embody that fully
Please
Stop blank staring windows into static
And pretending magic finger tips during long silences
At least long enough to remember
You
Exist here
And have responsibilities to that end

Remember
There are people outside your own doorsafe
Take a moment to feel the hardwood against your feet
Exist here
Speak to them

even if a man stands as an island

the movements of the sea still shape his shores

and even if we shoo away the raven

we’ll still hear from the rooftops, “nevermore”

so turn not your face from summer’s light

do not fear the warming rays of sun

force no smile from your eyes

for no one is truly ever one

every heart beats in rhythm with each other

the trees and the rocks each hum along

the falcons and the sparrows fly the same skies

with nature’s voice we all can sing along

I know there are Those, but they are not him, and he is not that.

And, in my deepest animal, I wish it were-

Careening, demanding, needing

me, my arch-in-back as

I twist before his Readiness, his angst.

Hoping for the best only to find nothing;

a shrew to tame for my own dear desire.