{INITIAL}

thru September 5th, Lulu is offering 25% off all print books with coupon code of MORE4YOU

here, are mine:
http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/acolyteroad

and here, a fuckload, from:

[notes for stimuli]

I start my sentences
like this:

the thing is.

thing is
my son
like yours
is dying. thing is

I was told
by god
to be a man.

I love you all.

I love
but start a fight
with someone
I’ve never met
over what
a fucking

poverty

no one
talks to
not
in years.

one must apple boldly in a cornfield of rust.

baby clotheshorse
eats baby
litmus.

taste
keeps my tongue
in the dark.

~

[daughteresque]

what would she ask
sadness

that old blindfold
from the future

how did you
get old, how

did my father
eat
and eat
at the same

time

perhaps
you’ve seen it
the mask
that took

my face

~

[motheresque]

she can’t stop herself
from knowing
the fleas
are burning
what with
her passionless
baby

its biological
god

~

[breakneck]

i.

some dog is humping the ghost-mourned balloon as mother does her thing in the body of big boy bite mark

ii.

it won’t come back from seeing father go ace on a bag of flour

the crow
if truly
crow

~

[from the book of waiting]

what is it
dissolves
in the mother’s
foreseeable
presence?

faith
a flashback
god
is having.

~

[trick blood]

the bottle takes what it can from the baby’s mouth. the stirring motion delivered to the hands of a misfit prophet. the knowledge of my father’s people that god is too old of a lover to get satan’s attention. the silence my mother kept quiet for. the second afterlife of a single breast.

~

[pocket]

I am kicking myself over the surprise my brain ruined. nearby, a man misremembers his trip to heaven while a woman blames herself for making it doubly hard to leave. the size of my death is the size of any deer would die for a sugarcube. my father can’t find what he’s wearing that isn’t his. mother she is off buying foods that share a ghost. I call to my sister but know openly she hasn’t been deaf from the day god believed her legs were part frog. I have not heard of the spoon that has a past. something in my stomach wants to see a star.

~

[extremity]

the virgin boy is waiting for it to dry, it

being
the puppet’s
toothbrush. his lover

a practitioner
of moral sadness

knows the body as a representation
of surgeries none perform
and the future
as historically
inaccurate. where we’ve met before

I’ve narrowed down
to isolation. was there I last lost mother

with her hacksaw and chair
dreamily approaching
a tire swing
as if the human voice

on any land
letting go
of god

could raise
a tree.

~

[On contact]

hold kitten
like a rifle. pop

a paper sack
at your father’s

ear. ah, your father

who was made to kneel

for two
maybe three
things

(god, shrapnel) a flying saucer

from the wreckage of his church

~

[On sex]

a ghost
in love
with a paintbrush

this ankle
not
from memory

~

[On birthmarks]

and the glacial
pace
of god

~

[ascetic]

do not open
until
I am born
this love letter
to the unreadable
child
who spoke
for god
to god
in poem
the lesser
pity

do
tell my brother
if he has not
yet

wrapped himself

in police
tape

that lightning
above a snowplow
puts a creature
on the roof

~

[existence gospel]

the quiet woman mothers a silence gone rogue

and names
her kid
to death

~

[lookers]

to slow the scarring of god, the man spits into a can plucked from the river that washed his hair.

to hasten

the woman
shaves
her mirror’s
head.

~

[the door to the museum’s gift shop]

I was alone
with the baby
when the baby
said god