The High Chasm & the Drop Ceiling

Her voice has
captured the world
humming
as he drove

am waiting for
you at the marina
I don’t really see this
turning out well

let the coyotes die
as I name them
I saw the driver
of the getaway car

take my shoes off
walk the creek
I turn into a fish
an auspicious deadline

would type a letter
before breakfast
throathouse fiddle
and peachtree root

tonight I feel
televised
studio backlot
regimental sparrow

Let the Candidate Finish

Chants we chanted
and began building
thriving bass
from a passing car

closes the door
television she left on
cold pigeons more
this year than last

cruise ship austere
above leaves
driving along
sunset is frying

end in elderly jackpot
the many meadow
everyone in
the local hospital

the giant shouts
into a microphone
the heavy
chair of insomnia

the jet picks me up
at my dad’s place
the moon makes
its chalk outline

The Train Runs Late Through My Arms

Oranges ripen
beside the grudge match
although I have not
yet been born

aluminum this
our small capital
a loyalty program
until I lost my home

astride though bright decay
at night
my shadow
is your shadow

before the appetizers
have even arrived
blind I did
love the burn

swim out into
the gutter and glisten
that and the trees
and old billboard

that spring
with the scarred hand
the dog coming
in from the rain