The secret to growing long hair is very simply
not to cut it. Very few people will tell you this.
Popcorn kernels are one of the great secrets of the Universe,
and there are few things I say with certainty.
They are all simple.
Those who cannot do, cannot teach me to! is a thing I would like to shout
at the sharp end of a no. 2 pencil. What ever happened to lead poisoning?
is another. I have been adressed frequently with the phrase right up your alley,
so I begin to think why do you people think I live in an alley?
and then I imagine my alley. I imagine my alley in width and length,
decaying brick, a Tomcat I'd have named Edna with only one eye
who rails at the moon each evening, a woman on the 6th floor aims at my head
with potted plants and chipped china plates--

the sound of these things breaking, the woman
old and lonely, the red wallpaper in her kitchen, she always misses
except for the one time, and the cat goes on railing
like a faucet drips.

those who cannot do, cannot teach me to, is a thing i would like to yell at times, when my tongues were never sharpened number two pencils and they're calling me the number six. someone says five. i shuffle my feet.

i thought you were going to die, so chelsea says

i thought you were going to die, so chelsea says,
casually, to me, that night in tucson, arizona,
that night of six and a half, of valium, to me,
casually. am i not to die, i felt in love so few,
so many times, casual in love and then pushed out
like the air from some tired breathing.
i stayed up all night drunk and talking
to your mother, chelsea, we have had so many,
so few words between us. who are you, who were you then
who you are now or weren't you? you turn your head
around things, you speak to yourself in 3rd person,
chelsea, you say, oh, chelsea, they've stolen my car
again, i've mistrusted my own eyes, my own dying,
the books on the kitchen counter, the dishes.
do you even remember the dishes, now, chelsea?
the hotel room then, west texas, your mother
and the words that lie between. are they too few
or too many, are they both and neither the same.
had i died would you live that much longer,
had i died there, chelsea?

we are two rooms full of metal chairs

the red of your coat caught the light just so.
It was the only color, they would pick one.
It was the first attempt at storm clouds,
the rocks were brought in, careful,
so as not to distract from the mostly nude
woman. one was playing a lute.
the other stood by the mouth of a well.
she was holding a glass pitcher.
even the trees, careful,
a dullish greying green. the red of his jacket
is different than the red of his hat,

do you notice these things?
i think the blonde one wants to date an english major
and thats why he's an english major, i realized
when he made a joke about salt.

chrome yellow, but very intense-- and then this young boy
turns and glances at us, as if to say
what are you doing here?

you'd like somewhere to hide, maybe? somewhere to be until the concrete looks concrete again? you've gotten dizzy, take this chair.
hold these bobby pins while i fix the situation, it never works.

there's this picture

there's this picture of you and me i keep seeing
somehow
it makes me think that you are a happy person
who is secretly sad and that i am a sad person
who is secretly happy.

what is the worst way to hang,
roland? roland outside the bar is thinking of his father.

i hold his hand. i stroke his face. i would carry him
but he is too tall and i am not enough.
i need the help lifting my own body

over the wall to get into the bar where no one drinks,
the kitchen where no one has been cooking the appetizers
for years. there are two rooms full of metal chairs. the shadows
of chairs stacked one on the other dance with the flicker
of a bic lighter. i burn my thumb, say shit, and then burn it again.

you want to hold my hand, don't you and we can't see our faces in the dark.
yes, it was special. yes, i was happy. we sat in a sad crawl space
we had to dangle over a 12 foot drop to get into. a homeless man, a person
lives here. we sat in a sad crawl space together and i was so very happy.
we thought about breaking a window but didn't.

i've seen people hang and thats the word, ghastly,
nonsense, not nobody's filing away my will. ive been to hangings but i carry scissors, thats how. i need a new ostrich like i need an old ostrich. i've had this table for three years, its killing me. if a woman knocked on my door at 3:00 this afternoon, she didn't come in or wake me.

“Coffee? I think we can do better than that.” –John Wayne

12 dollars for a suit of clothes,
thats robbery, mr.chisum,
i've earned it.

edit out the chair, they said
or the lamp is too large.
cut three inches off the pasta,
why don’t you
what if there were a little pink rat
hanging in this corner here? I’ve got a part for you

And anyway we go so great with one
Another, mr. chisum, don’t you think?

oh but it spills.

We’ll just throw the paper towels down now,
swim around the room, light cigarettes on fire,
clean it up later. in fact this whole thing
is getting small and narrow. the hats
across town and my arms
through the first sleeve, my air

is narrow and the noodles are cold, the cats
asleep or halfway, Mr chisum, quite the proposition
& smokes inside.

Is this tom waits, mr. chisum,
are you married, mr. chisum
think of nashville with a tan, mr. chisum.

Where are my Indians? Here, Have a cigar?
Can I frame it? You were a gym teacher &
Janelle Verrochi’s mother
Said you were too rough with the kids,
But I didn’t think you were? This was a dream
I had? I didn’t think I’d say so…

Edit out your lines mr. chisum?

Oh, but no, I couldn’t.

a metaphor?

"While attempting to arrest Aizenstadt, Officer Darryn Brown sustained an injury to his left thumb."

in saying

you saw him off to the bus and the thing is
i never saw you so happy and the thing is
you saw him off.
i don't wanna hear about
how bill murray hits on all the pretty ladies.
i have nothing to protect.
i don't wanna hear about
bill murray at kaminskys.
i don't wanna hear about i respect you
or about artists or respect. tell me
what happened to the pepsi cola pony.
drink a soda without laughing.
eat a pig and think its funny, please.
if its not funny, then what the fuck is it?
we could all catch ghosts. we could all make fun.
we could all get along and have something better
to say.

ghostbusters

"you now, you've come all this way... would you like to check the refridgerator?"

"yes we all have the same problem...you"

laughing matters

laughing matters: pumpernickel, scotch,
scotch tape,
jam jar, diamonds, kermit
hats,
red cigarette holders, orange
juice, finger skateboards

nice to say/ good for naming things:
hot air
balloons
pippi
longstockings

stay here

stay here
keep

a safe place
and
die
remember

a
wide notebook
long
went to sleep

used up
papers. somes
dreamed nothing--
planes

without luggage
in the days
behind

you
away & limp
as a dead thing

in the shelter of your arms

" I lived a year in a hotel/ 'Cause I failed to read a sign/ For a long time I was miserable/ Then I felt just fine/ And now I feel so fine so often/ I'm like a textbook case/ Just a textbook case of fine" -Paul Simon

scatterplots

i was wearing a teal rosary and now there is this crick
in my neck and i've been thinking
about stigmata. all these things are true
but i'm not trying to say anything. i'd like to fly
to california and not wonder
why. i write out scatterplots & then
i lose the scatterplots. the world at times can seem impossible.