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Prairie –

Do not Hesitate  

 

Eating what I can of spring 

Eating what she can of me 

I could’ve made her supper 

Cooked enough of wild leak down to mush and bread from flour bought botched and spilling 

Could’ve had my hand out, offering her gooseberries still cold from the bowl of ice

There’s dandelion tea

Bitter and earthy, could be sweetened with some cream 

But instead I lay my flesh raw and unclean 

To the poppers mouth, and ain’t she hungry? 

The dirt under her nails trimmed short and sharp

The dirt still clinging to my skin stinking of salt, barren fields 

The land ain’t been giving lately 

I suppose I’m much the same 

So with all the starved meat I’ve got to offer 

Still stringy and stuck to wet, off-white bone 

I give it up, as girl sighs finally 

She is of course a creature unwilling to pass up a meal so easy 

I could not blame her, 

I’d rather like her to blame me 

Still, to put it simply 

I laid there, 

And she ate me 

 

Snake Song

 

Hissing snake song both the hissing of tongue and the hissing of long bodies through rough and dry grass 

The hiss of air between my teeth as my only admittance to pain 

Broken up by dry laughter and you’re humming into the back of my neck 

Every time you speak it crackles like fire out your smoke burned throat 

As your lips never leave my skin 

I fear that I experience the thrill of intimacy only when I am going crazy 

You hold me down and still and stillness does not overtake instead it settles as a spring as spring waiting for summer hungry 

Simmer of blacktop in me 

The road we’d abandoned barefoot and skin split and pink and dirty to the point of no return 

I’ve been swallowing dirt since we sat 

In prairie dry

Talking of nothing 

All the flittering of birds and they’re speaking 

Speaking of things I’ve no way of understanding 

I try to tell you things but I am running out of them as you run your energy out through me 

The only moisture left is sweat 

Salt like food on my upper lip 

Sweat like feeding 

Like summer is coming 

The season of wanton and ugly and God looming in light 

And light so long the day pulls you thin and the fat of you is cooked in said sun 

Sun that sits at the top of the sky 

At the top of the big net that catches no clouds 

You’re sighing my name and praise and soon to be broken promises and I’m making no promises and I’m 

Looking forward into middle distance 

Letting the heat settle into a blur low to the ground 

Like false wet dancing in my vison 

You don’t believe in love you tell me and I listen and I agree and neither of us speaks of it again 

But I turn to face you and catch your eyes as they catch light and turn gold as the tall and crisp grasses 

Gold as the sun at daybreak 

Gold as your mothers ring you wear around your neck 

And I surrender to the thought of wishing to be different and wanting to run 

And I have escaped much but I will never be able to outrun having been born 

And you will never outrun anything again 

Your leg near limp 

You drag and shuffle and rarely allow me to take your arm over my shoulder 

To drag you around myself

Like a cat with its catch 

Sun sets at the same time wind creeps in 

No colder or cooler but sweat dries white and scaled on us 

And snakes creep away from a single cracked slab of concrete now absent of its once fountain 

Light dissipates on horizon slow 

And when we go to say goodbye to prairie 

You flinch and stand with difficulty 

You glare but when I take you up in arms 

You do not stop me 

And I suppose either way without homes 

Without the homes that once held beds our own

We will find our way to shelter 

Neither of us will cry or falter 

And we will never see ourselves married to each other or likely anybody because we know better 

But when a sink is available, you do not hesitate to give me the first drink of water 

Head tilted to drink directly from faucet 

And when we share a couch thin and damp and underground 

Smelling of the nursing home it was dragged out of 

Smelling like your grandmothers perfume 

The dust, rose, champagne smell that elderly women flock to 

I lay sideways and nearly falling 

As you can hardly lay any way but flat if you’d like to save any feeling in your leg 

And we sleep with hands at each other’s hips 

Yours to keep me from falling 

Mine to feel if you’re twitching 

We sleep hardly 

We sleep as well as well can be 

 

9 Months Later, A Season Earlier 

 

You and I, twins nine months apart 

One born in the most humid and horrid and heavy part of summer - 

The sweating, sick, thick end of summer 

When storms all gather like a celebration - like a final look into the end 

And I was born toward the end of spring 

But not end enough in the north to be without my cold - 

The teething, gnawing, wet gum of a month just edging on true warmth, a tricksters short season of rain and snow and sun almost comforting but not safe - 

Can’t quite be twins nor sister nor brother nor lover - had kissed, 

Sorry - didn’t like it - 

Held you, 

Could’ve been held more - 

Former lover of yours - 

Doesn’t matter - 

I tell a lot of stories about you while avoiding you 

You’re not interesting - you’re obviously of interest to me, 

Interest this fake thing I - 

And there are some points on the map where we blend over one another so heavily - I forget who was who or where was I - who was you? 

And then of course where there’s a line it’s a crack, crevice, sink hole in the making - 

Where there’s a line there’s a scar and - 

I put my hand in greasy hair in a bedroom that smells of cat piss and shit 

So does your skin underneath the sweat 

Scent of yesterday 

A night spent turning 

And I feel over skin so pale I trick myself into thinking because I can see the veins, I can feel what they pump 

And I can feel that blood in me 

Thump, thump, thumping - 

Except you’re too fast, rabbit heart 

And ain’t got in you what I have in me

And I ain’t got half of you anymore 

Maybe a quarter 

Sister, brother - almost except I didn’t grow up in your house 

And you can tell 

Can smell it on you - 

Can smell it on me, 

The dust of it 

Friends who ain’t that different who ain’t all that much the same 

Friend is an easy term that kinda means nothing and everything and anything 

And I’m kinda mean 

I know that about myself 

Your sorta stupid - and it’s not even that you can’t do it, 

It that you only try when you like it and there’s- 

It doesn’t really matter what version of love I was raised on or what 

Version of love you believe in for 

God knows what reason 

I do, 

Love you - 

In some way, 

Somewhere - 

Some days 

 

 

 

 

 

Coyote –

Night Jaunts/Devil Dogs

 

Crawled my way over rock and yarrow

As the saw-whet owls call echoed 

Stars hidden behind branches and pine needles so green they are blue 

In the dark of night 

Blood moon 

Orange and haunting quiet 

As coyotes circle the dream of sleep 

I had in me 

Hours earlier 

Their calls like yelling, 

Like small children screaming - 

Like the yelping of something frightened and soon sick 

I bark back to them 

It echoes hollow

This box of matches in my hand, 

The strings of my guitar all snapped  - 

I’ve been waiting, and waiting 

I’d wanted one clear picture of the moon, 

My sorrowful lady 

I’d only thus far captured her beams 

As they hit grass wilted and brown at the ends 

Then here come the devil dogs 

Them wild things, 

To nip at me 

But I ain’t never been able 

To do much more than bleed, laugh, and dance with them 

I mean, 

There’s little I’ve loved in this life 

More than the humble, scuffed, vermin coyote 

I’ve no hope of the things loving me 

It’s just nice to hear their song 

It’s a dream I keep having wide awake

Listening to their broken howling 

 

Light hair Dark eyes 

 

“I don’t even think you’re that pretty.” 

 

“I ain’t all that impressed by you either.” 

 

There’s a hand at the nape of my neck and another is holding a cigarette between my lips 

 

“Two people who aren’t even attracted to each other probably shouldn’t fuck as much as we do.” 

 

“That’s all sex is, babe. Pretending to like bodies.” 

 

“Somethings wrong with you.” 

 

I spit in his damn face and kick him in the balls 

 

Watch as he sucks air through his teeth and wastes no time in grabbing me by the hair 

 

The hand at my nape comes to my jaw 

 

The end of the cigarette naturally falls and burns at my hip

 

Ashes smothered by my thigh 

 

He’s got wild eyes big and void and taking everything in

 

I can feel that I’ve got a smile that’s twitching itself into place 

 

When his thumb digs into my cheek enough to bruise is when I really start cackling 

 

A type of laugh that’s wet and stuck in your throat a bit

 

I cough and laugh more even as his fingers find their way between my teeth and he jerks my head around some 

 

I sneak my leg around to kick him in the stomach and that’s when he hits me for real and that’s when I laugh like a maniac - the smile that was twitching and jumping settles into a painful stretch and he says low cause he always talks to me low and close to my ear, 

 

“And that fucking reaction is why I call you Coyote Kid - 

Fucking crazy ass.” 

 

Soldiers in town

I can smell the rain in the air 

Taste the tang of copper blood 

Penny Pressed to the roof of my mouth 

Summers yet to give way to fall

Yellow yarrow standing tall 

Butterflies and moths to visit the flowers 

A monarch in all her brilliant colors 

I’m glad the cold snap was a false start 

I wasn’t done with my hungry, 

Violent summer 

In the back of cars, and at the graves of fallen soldiers 

Whispering to them the only good advice my father left me 

‘Don’t join the military, the only thing an army man’s good for is killing and dying.’ 

Come with me down to the creek 

Walk through healing yarrow, 

The dogwoods, thistle, and sundew 

I’ll show you where the body lies rotting 

Picked to bits by bird and wild dog 

Lean in closer, hear the insects roaring 

A chorus of disjointed song 

You’ve got tears in yours eyes as you try to shoo away birds and flies 

I grab your hands and hold them still 

‘Curse at ravens and vultures all you want - without angels they’re all that’s left to carry him to his god.’ 

Trembling thing you are 

All winter white and spring fawn 

You ask ‘and where’d the angels go?’ 

An easy reply:

‘army men hunted those pretty things down - only thing they’re good for anymore is canned meat and taxidermy’ 

 

 

 

 

Water –

Can Smell the Rain 

 

 

He’s infatuated 

See it in his eyes as they 

Bounce around 

Try to catch and hold mine 

Out left I’m checking my reflection 

In the puddle left by rain 

It’s blurred and hard to see 

But my hairs a mess 

And I wish I could say 

I wanted him the same 

Real sweet, nervous and twitching 

He tries to get words outta me 

I’d respond if I had anything left to say 

Said all I could yesterday 

On my brothers bed

Complaining about times and the way they change 

His lips are chapped 

I stare at them, between them 

Looking at his yellowing, thin, animal teeth 

He’s talking more 

Than I think he knows 

I try and fail at listening 

I stare into the mouth 

Only dreaming it could taste and smell like rain 

He’s too much like me

Too little like loves I’d scorned before 

He asks a simple question, 

“What you do for fun around here?” 

And I got nothing good to answer, so

I say, “I can smell it in the air, 

It’s gonna rain again before morning. 

When I hear it come, 

I’ll come on down. 

Stand in the storm for a little while.” 

He’s got a crooked, bent smile 

Asks, “Well, would you mind company?” 

I shake my head 

Hope to God I’m no liar 

 

Dark Hair Dark Eyes 

 

She’s all over me soft as silk or wet skin in the bath 

Our bodies slick with water from the shower and it was a waste in this heat ‘cause I can already feel where clean water is becoming sweat and salt down my back 

And she’s all breath hot on my neck when she sighs and says “I don’t understand why you spend so much time with him, he’s so mean.” 

And the implication is that I’m not mean 

But in truth between him and I 

He’s rough all the time but when we get mean 

I probably say shit that shouldn’t be said to anyone 

And once when he was drunk out his mind and trying to start a fight as I walked his sorry ass home I got sick of it 

Pushed him down into the creek to see him gasp in water and struggle to get hands under him 

Left him just long enough for real fear 

Drowning in 6 inches of water 

We need rain 

Your hands are at my waist, “you’re so sweet, so soft - you’re a gentleman.”  

And really I like being a gentleman for select few and the rest is usually for ladies just ‘cause I feel I oughta 

And I’d probably have spit or kicked at you by now 

Or as long as I’ve known you 

I’d probably found a reason to get into it

But you are a lady and a pretty one and it’s wrong to be nice ‘cause someone pretty 

But damn you do got eyes black like vast space 

Eating me up and taking me away from earth 

You indulge me so I’ll indulge you some 

It’s only fair 

I don’t have any real respect 

Gets me in enough trouble in any relationship 

Romantics have never gone well 

I never did get over my certain squirming distaste for most people 

Your tongues been at my neck for a while when you ask, “what’s my brother ever done for you anyway?” 

And when it’s out loud like that I realize I might have gotten myself into more mess than I should 

But he’s got rough fucking hands and he gets me going real mean and fast and lightning quick with the insults 

We wrestle our way into no love and all interest 

And he’s gotten to root of the problem with me 

Enough to make me itch 

I don’t care to keep anything that can’t keep my interest 

And love is actually something that ebbs and flows quite easy if you pay any sort of attention 

I observe and rarely actually ask

Forgot most of what I ask 

When asked I don’t usually answer honestly 

And you gotta be looking 

And he’s looking 

I’d rather be with him than you 

But fucker is busy and - “you guys got good genetics - I’d say it ain’t too different.” 

You hit me with a stiff hand and your lips in a hard line 

Way to prove me right 

And now you’ve actually got my eyes and mind on you 

Made me excited but I stay stiff as your lip until you tell me otherwise 

Cause much as it’s the game I play with your brother 

I know better than to hit a woman 

You don’t make me wait for it 

But you do make me thank you 

 

 

 

Holy Water 

 

I don’t mind being a girl to manipulate out of a speeding ticket. Count me a girl again when I’m mean, ‘cause if I’m a man than to ladies I gotta be gentlemanly. Oughta treat the women well, sweet, and clean. I was nothing when from ashes I was born and I’ll be nothing again when to ashes I return. 

 

I used to sink into the creek. Used to be baptized there every week by the grace of mosquitos biting. Older now, I go to the lake and I am born again in that awful freeze. 

 

I don’t mind being lady when I’m ugly, when I’m cruel. I think a girls got rights to those things. I’m a man in all my violence, learned young that to be man, a boys gotta be beat. I took well to my bloody back. Took well to staying quiet as my smart mouth was smacked. I was born nothing but a babe. Nothing but an empty soul waiting. I’ll be nothing again when I am dead and wet. I’ll be nothing when the water’s taken me under, lungs filled to the brim with water soakin’ in. 

 

Baby Blue Got Pecked by the Hens 

 

Been watching you 

The way I always seem to do 

Corner of my eye 

Making sure I understand 

How fast you go for an object when you get mad 

And - 

I ain’t all that upset by it 

No need for you to worry 

I had a house once - 

All about the throwing 

Even then 

No need to look dejected 

Least not to my face 

I’ve done enough to know I’m no better than

Any other angry man 

I’ve cracked drywall,

Splintered wood, 

Stared at my knuckles cracked and red - 

Thought about taking a hammer to my dad’s head 

Took it to my legs instead

Watched bruises bloom

And fade over days 

That became short weeks 

And now here you are - looking at me 

Why never when I want? 

When I’m looking pretty and clean? 

When my face is stone or smiling? 

You always catch me with my brows furrowed 

Somewhere in the yard there’s a box under bones, well burrowed 

And I’m never getting it back 

There you are again, and there you go 

Telling me about how you used to be nothing, got your life on track

Again - 

No longer the type for heroin 

I like to see you safe, but I know those damn self help books you read 

Won’t make me sane 

Won’t get me to plan 

Or change 

That’s the part you hate about me 

The way you cry is what makes me want you - honey, 

Can’t you understand? 

I’ve spent a long time beating this body 

Softening up my limbs 

Just to be humiliated 

I’m not giving in 

Not again 

I’ve done this over and over 

I’ve learned my stupid lesson 

You asked me last night 

Drunk, ‘cause you’re not sober - just off the bad stuff 

What I thought about love 

Watching the fires, the floods 

Told you 

Love is the knowing 

The sight 

Of the reaper in the corner of your eye 

Love is the intimate understanding of what you leave behind 

Loves the moment you forget all about it 

Love turns you warm, weak, and stupid  

Shakes you back down 

To the child you were 

Shy, quiet, and mean 

All wrong and withered 

Scaled and slithering 

You asked about love, slurring drunk 

I told you all about starving 

The growling 

Told you I planned to fast ‘til I was good and lean 

Told you I was gonna dunk myself under the water ‘til I was pure 

Until I was clean 

 

Watching you sit there 

Thousand mile stare 

Licking your chapped lips, rapidly blinking 

Then you go and spill your drink 

It left a stain 

Baby, why do you never seem to think? 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Winter –

Lots of people go missing in the snow 

 

Took the edge of love off 

By biting down on my own frost bitten skin 

The burn of feeling once again 

Was numb and then felt just the pinching 

Warm blood to freeze to the hair on my arms 

All sticking straight -

Up and thin with dry air 

Clinging to meat 

The winters here are teasing me 

They bring me to brink 

Then to the quiet left over howling I fall asleep 

Curled beneath the quilt made for me 

That celebrates my birth into this world 

Or so it is said 

I wasn’t there in mind to know 

What all that meant 

The snows come to stick to my lashes 

Dark, thick, and something loved by the boy 

Who stares and stares 

His eyes gray and tired as the winter sky 

Flat, blank, and - 

He ain’t talking right 

To stay warm, he’d lit up 

Right as the pills dissolved on his tongue 

I wanted to taste the last of it 

But stayed still as he trembled into 

My body also shaking somethin’ awful 

He pants like he’s been running 

His best warmth a fever burning 

Hands find mine or I find his hands 

Nails in my skin cuttin’ me deep and bad 

Purple blotches against the wind burned red 

We oughta make it inside 

He’s shaking his head 

My boy, he’s burnin’ himself into something mad 

And maddeningly I want that 

I want to dig into his skin 

Like he’s dug into mine 

I want winter to pass us by 

As we sleep in each others struggling lungs 

His tongue heavy and needing water 

Against all advice I feed him snow in small bites 

It’s hardly clean, white edging gray 

With the cigarette ash we can’t take back 

His lips find mine and don’t move none 

They’re blue as the sun over the lake 

Trying to shine and only glowing 

As the wind takes its warmth away 

I kiss into his mouth 

I give all I can 

He takes out my soul in his next breath 

And to the winter seasons cruel sound 

We are missing again 

 

Butchering boy

The falling of your face 

As I started screaming, squirming 

The way your hands trembled as they held me on unsteady feet - 

Fear shaking the voice of your stuttering apology 

Empty eyes blown wide 

I knew what you took, 

What you wanted, what you got 

The words I was saying you quickly forgot 

I laid my head on a pillow alone 

As you sat at the foot watching me drink 

The glass of tepid whisky you brought up 

I used to sleep with your shirt as my pillow case 

And now just a day passes and I sleep upon satin again 

Wondering about you 

As you dodge calls - your sister calling me 

Whispering her regret, 

Your common escape 

The only thing you can’t fuck, and as always she saves 

Talks me down from hysteria 

Gives you her apartment for a week 

So I can come by 

Haunted, alone 

To collect my scattered things  

 

 

 

 

Forest –

I Lie When I Say I Don’t Pray Anymore 

 

Kissed the bark, 

Kissed the ants running up and 

Took one into my mouth to roll 

Feels the same as a coffee ground 

Left to the bottom of my mug 

I’d made my caffeine over stovetop 

Poured it slow still steaming hot 

The darkest burnt edge of coffee 

Is the same shade of bark now that I am tasting 

Norway pine 

It’s staple place among the woods crowding in 

Toppling its way over fences 

Catching the edge of houses 

The storms change the shape

The leaning lupines now flattened 

Their violet shade stark on the ground 

The lighter pink fading into mud so light 

It’s like sickness 

Like throwing up on an empty stomach 

There’s light between branches 

My eyes are catching and I know 

From a third persons perspective 

That my own brown eyes are sucking in the suns gold 

I recite under my breath, 

Robert Frost, and then forget 

What I am doing as 

I listen close 

To deer shifting through the milkweed in an almost silent pass 

Immune to such indifference towards the animal brothers who come through I 

Snap my head to the side 

Perfect deer am I 

As we meet each others gaze 

Round eye to slit

And a nod is all I need 

We’ve got an understanding 

The ant id swallowed 

His soul sticks in my teeth 

I pray for forgiveness 

If had wanted it 

I do not ask the king 

I ask it if the young boy who’s clothes still smell like scrap wood 

I press my nose into the tree 

He’d never seen the thing 

In Bethlehem nor Nazareth 

Nor Galilee 

I kiss the wood 

I kiss his cheek 

We’ve got an understanding 

 

40 hours and the Breathing Between

You ask after the washing 

As you call it 

You’ve read more than you’ve lived 

And I know how that is 

I think Wilde was right about those poets 

And I can only hope to be awful with my words 

And to sleep upon the same grass bed as you 

In the night watching lampposts turn the road bright white and cool blue 

And the cars all rush to nowhere at all 

I’ve been laughing quietly 

The type where it’s more air than sound 

And you’ve got your dark eyes 

Enchanting come nighttime 

Light pollutions stolen the stars 

And now they all reside in your pupil 

Shining against your hair where its curled around my fingers 

I’ve been making a cat out of you 

The way I’ve been petting 

And I think if you were one you’d be purring 

Just about now 

The way you lean your head into my hand 

You were a broken boy you told me in the dark and I waited til the ale ran through to ask after you 

And your ill timed confessions 

That you tend to like 

Kissed my hand and told me 

I was the air you breathed 

And the welcoming ache in your knees 

You’ve known labor, love 

And all I’ve asked is for the work to feel familiar 

And then here you are 

Asking after the washing 

You’ve always had a funny heart 

I wonder when it last sat breaking 

Kissing my hand and asking after the washing 

Yes, love, it’s done 

Lay yourself back and rest some 

Come morning if we’ve slept at all 

We’ll be back to the fields 

And your back will be my sweet view from 8 feet behind you 

As we give our hands reason 

To search for softness come evening 

Baby, rest your eyes for me 

I’ll sing you to sleep 

 

 

 

Hope You’d Lived a Good Life 

 

In grass so high 

It glides its way across my bare back 

Cuts into the places I ain’t smooth 

The wet of creek sticks to me 

As mud, blood, and weeds 

Stood still to listen 

Eyes on the sky 

Birds circling 

There’s something dying 

Follow them to the hollow 

Eye of the storm they are 

A hole in the sky made dark 

By blackbirds 

Crows cawing 

Diving 

Not quite making it to target 

They’re watching me 

As I watch them 

I make the birds nervous 

There’s a movement of grass blades 

Back and forth 

I peel it back 

The patch like fabric 

Twist threads in each hand 

Pull to make an opening 

There on it’s back 

A snake 

Flipping around, struggling 

Not going anywhere 

It’s middle cut up by something 

Unknown to me 

Or anyone

Left for dead

Rare to see a thing like it uneaten 

Must of fought strong 

Or pissed in fear 

The taste bitter in some mammal creature 

I take it in two hands 

Careful to have no stretch 

I am scaring it 

The thing dying 

The thing weak 

I say a prayer 

Lay it down 

Aim a rock to its head 

Crack it to skull and dirt 

Hard and fast as I can manage 

Prayer comes again

Unprepared, unheeded, unhealed 

Words I speak that mean nothing 

Wordless pondering 

An asking for grace I think 

I lay it down 

Curl its body around 

A small primrose yellow 

Say, “goodbye,” quietly 

Leave it to the birds 

They deserve to eat

As much as anything 

I take my leave 

Slow 

Resisting the urge to

Turn around 

It wouldn’t help 

It’s over now  

 

Don’t Grow an Ego, I’ll Worship Anything

The black and white, 

The gun, 

The knife 

Your swords and 

Ghost heart, 

My broken obsession with the lord 

If there be a lord 

In heaven 

Or better yet upon the earth 

Nothing to kneel for 

Except love - 

Frozen over 

The knife trick of flips 

And your eyes widening, 

All of life held tight to the thin woven silk-string 

Humming in the night, 

Deadly aim, 

Seasons last fireflies 

Oh, I’ve fallen before 

I’ll fall again 

Fox cries and rabbit-hearts beating 

Out in the woods 

I find all that’s left of god 

And all that’s left of good 

If god be good 

If good is measurable or 

Something earned 

If some sort of bad could be cured 

Under a log 

Small and barely moving 

Lady bird among invasive species mimicking 

Kissed his little paper wings 

Cupped him in my palm 

Then sent him off again, 

Flying 

All that’s true 

And all that’s not 

Sent out in last ditch desperations wish 

My final try at opportunity 

My last ritual 

For luck 

Sending out red 

To Tyche  

To try out one last rumor 

One last call to those dead 

I worship always 

My own question 

And of course 

The first and only answer 

Whatever response echoes my shame 

Leaves the music to dance 

And repeat 

Whatever leaves me limping lame 

Home 

Or somewhere someone once came 

 

 

 

 

 

Fire –

 

Wild Fire Season 

 

Smoke overtaking great north woods 

They are burning 

It ain’t pretty

Smoke out my mouth 

Joins the haze 

The orange of sky 

The white smog of day 

The sun small and red 

Chokecherry like the end of my cigarette 

World smells like smoke 

Smoke smells like me 

In distant times I sit ‘round a campfire 

As rounds of whisky pass from mouth to hand to mouth to hand 

And 

There’s nothing good left 

As the heat gets closer to homes 

As homes find out what’s natural 

When the trees turn to charcoal 

When frozen land thaws 

‘Cause we ain’t been responsible 

More north than here, the boundary waters 

Can’t keep fire in control 

Their water real, real low 

My mama calls, I do not answer 

The birds have scattered and 

Gone quiet as night without people 

As night looks like burning embers 

A blood moon each cycle 

The carcass of raven left to cook 

On sidewalk hot and dry as the air 

Smoke out my mouth 

Joins the haze 

World smells like smoke 

Smoke smells like me 

Lord, I’d love to feel a breeze 

I struggle to fall asleep 

Dreaming of a time again 

When air is clear enough 

To see the lake 

 

No Fun at Parties 

 

“How’s the beer?”

 

“Piss warm.” 

 

“You’d better chug it.” And I do cause sometimes I do listen 

Though usually not now when I’m happy 

Fear works on me 

Just not any of the physical or loud 

Cause I’ve got mastered 

Most of the time 

A face that doesn’t care if you’re itching to kill 

But I do respond to silence, disappointment, and unfolded laundry - dishes in the sink, 

Crumbs on the counter 

Tips of my fingers yellow from pine cleaner 

And peeled to shit from bleach 

Flaking and falling off like someone had taken a cheese grater to my skin 

Piss warm beer goes down my throat and really, I couldn’t care less 

I don’t like beer cold 

And you’re playful and don’t have it in you to be mean 

But you do frown when I’m mean and sometimes when I’m too blunt 

You hand me something ice cold and say, 

“That oughta be better.” 

And I put it back in the cooler as the noon heat swelters and dig around the top of a card table to find whisky 

Probably warmer than piss based on how long it’s been out in the sun 

And it ain’t mine but I drink straight from the bottle anyway 

You’ve got that frog frown that tugs on your dimpled cheeks 

Sayin, “don’t you take responsibility for anything?” And I realize you’d probably been talking for some time and I ignored you 

“Yeah man, just not shit people want me to, but all the rest, yeah.” 

You contemplate that for a moment 

Take the whisky I pass but set it down into the overgrown grass 

Which is fucking rude, “You hate yourself?” You ask which is also fucking rude - “Nah man, be easier to deal with if I did.” 

I wink, leaning low against a table 

Acting drunker than I am 

You walk away 

 

 

As the Boundary Waters Burn Away 

 

Heatwave of the century 

Heatwaves of the century everywhere 

The past few centuries 

This heatwave 

Those heatwaves 

The drought is back as water filled land refuses rain again 

As drought teeters and our winter reprieves are future curses and 

Summer comes to tell us we were foolish 

I put my shoe in dirt so dry it puffs up from the ground and dances in the heat thick air 

No matter what I drink from the penny tasting sink my spits gone thick and my teeth tacky and textured sticky 

Sweat pools then dries into a flakey white paste 

No shade or breeze saves 

Just comes enough to remind me to pray 

Heatwave of the century 

Every heatwave has been a heatwave of the century 

And the next century stretched before me is empty 

A black and blank room 

And as the centuries get hot and dry 

As dampness only gathers to punish 

As rain becomes dreams 

As the next century sits empty 

A blank room 

I can only hope that it will be cool 

 

Jesus Jacks Off to My Visage and We’re Both So Normal About It 

 

See, Jesus doesn’t kiss me 

‘Cause he knows I cringe from it only 

But his lips are so close to my ear 

That on his breath I can guess their shape 

How wide his mouth gapes - 

Here briefly his moan gives way to yawn-wide 

But after his voice carries as early morning deep and cracked - 

Cracked like the dirt we walk over 

I pray for rain and he answers - “drought will come, I don’t control anything but love.” 

And love he does 

As he moans and groans and whispers, “your a wonder, 

Your nature folded in and then blooming - 

The hyssop and peony and lady slipper - 

Magic thing, 

Magic ain’t banned or unholy - 

I’m magic, your magic, 

Made of gold.” 

And Jesus doesn’t touch ‘cause he knows I’m not healed by it 

But when he comes over his hand he says, “I love you and I love you like this.” 

And he don’t hold me as I weep 

But he hums so close to my ribs, 

Slumped as he is 

Head held on fist 

I can feel the vibrations touch my lungs 

I get up sudden - as I do 

Sit to stand fast enough to make anyone dizzy 

And I declare my need to move and I do move 

Jesus moves 

Holy steps to my frantic 

Bare feet the both of us 

And I escape outside on the edge of running 

Jesus’ worn soles slapping the concrete with mine 

I stop at a tree to hold bark under nails and calluses 

And Jesus prays to me instead of for me 

And, 

When he finds a flower he doesn’t put it in my hands or behind my ear - 

He lays it at my feet