Nest Summons

Tantalizing passivity
Make me a historian
My hand in the fortune

Our Reaction To The Text Is Physical

Glass compels me outwards
Pushing off
Turning swimmer in a pool

Paper is a different kind of summons

The constraints of the window
Control the whole
A mirror reflex
My fingers
Wander

Constraints of the page include the universe, I breathe.
I take in leaves far away
And insect murmurs
I recognize the pool in the garden
It is beautiful in its picture

It is a gesture
For pennies, not people
a receptacle for fantasies that have been cast
To come true
a debt extended
residue

Descendants of trees absorb secretions from our sloppy pads
Descendants of sand repel them

Closely, could they find their way inside though
And melt images
So oil dissolves oil

Without water
The images are mis-timed, though
We could never leave them in the sun long enough

Hands cradle, sockets hold, ear registers, filia connect
Silence of submurging and lifting
That comes with distance
The quality of the breeze that makes the leaves

The Photographers

I fell in love with you because I could sense it would be beneficial to my career
And I loved that feeling
The being with you
Creating something
Together

Doubling and growing of my visibility
Filling and smoothing of my abberrations

We moved for more than just each other
We moved for everyone
We instagrammed their weddings
We instagrammed their art

Find This Poem

What Is Ur Fear?
Embrace it
Imagination
Confusion
Doubt
Inquiry
Intelect
Psychosis
Precision
Limitation
Realism
Distraction
Enrichment
Dishonesty
Intimacy
Dissatisfaction
Vitality
Restraint
Stress
Intuition
Unease
Initiative
Agitation
Freedom
Victimisation
Greed
Aspiration
Immaturity
Corruption
Reaction
Inadequacy
Oppression
Seriousness
Dominance
Interferance
Deafness
Expectation
Fantasy
Exhaustion
Provocation
Struggle
Weakness
Turbulence
Hunger
Force
Forgetting
Failure
Arrogance
Desire
Halfheartedness
Purposelessness
Selfishness
Pride
Change
Constriction

Prints

Are icons are falling
as
Personal memories rise
Rain
Trembling in a container
Over
Doing nothing for the past

We are new
We are not sad, we are shells
Nothing counts
The day is long and light
curves
slow around us, into
us, as us

too slow— maybe
Missed, may be
We recite ourselves.
Up, palms grit on the old ground
We don't press our faces down

We convene
(and leave)
It means nothing

Nothing counts
More than now

She

I used to think the internet had so much to offer
How can more of more ever get boring?
There is only so much
one can seek to know
In more
In a single kind of more
Of more
Of lore
Of ore
Of glory
Glor
ia
ia
ia

Easter On The Way To The Ocean

The hair must be mechanized
If it is to be The hair
Always a prosthetic
already
She
Exhibits sure signs of growth
A plasma testiment
resilience
In spite of tender celery
Falls
            falls off
                             falls off the bone

The hair
necessitates mechanization

We both knew
The time
Of being in a bigger body
Was wrecked with pain
Wrecked
It was wrecked before we got there
And we were two and smart
So we always knew