Knack (With Peter)

I guess all I want is

for you to furl what's 

easy.

Dear Trouble,

You're worth a

thousand impendings.

Despite all the ugly

fragments the whole

might still be worth

finding out.

The bell's seed haunts

our rubble.

It's best we sigh

and call it a light.

Just Burn It (With Peter)

I do have

some ethics,

however small

or deeply buried

they may be.

Amoeba guilt.  What is

that? The righteous dead.

We all know that God

is in the shemales, 

and other hot messes.

He said sulking

will get you out of 

everything,

except yourself.

It's like an erection at an inopportune moment (With Peter)

It's actually a huge head-fuck 

just to be here.

Shoddily resurrected pennants,

or was it penance, small dosed

 chances at forgiveness

slick the vantage point

that sharpens 

itself on memory.

Sifting each experience

into one more

failed attempt at meaning.

Dave said he was hurtin'

for cash.

Austin said he was late

because he had  a fucked up life.

Ludis said he wasn't afraid

of shit.

But these things, I tell you, 

have lost the ability to situate

themselves.

They are dark markers.

Knives in the medicine.

Sort of like when Chris said

he either wanted you

or another shot of whiskey, 

he wasn't sure,

so you gave him whiskey.

The Silence Hook (with Peter)

Offer your fist to face 

the act whose song

knows a featureless limit.

He's going home with her

anyway.

Desire walks an unharmed

fame.  He scribbles

foundations of gauze

under each footfall, the

cushion is nothing--

if not pathetic.

He makes that look and 

the wound scurries away

into what it is to strike

a note on something bleak.