the philosophy of negative light
you in yr
funeral
crown,
in yr brothers
best suit, end of
winter and the weight
of the
upstate
desert
distance from
the
bridge to the
river
from the muzzle
to
the temple, and
shes fifteen,
okay?
shes found on her
bed
by her
father
note says no more
worries, and
everything you need to
know about the
mechanics of suicide
is
right there on the
internet,
because freedom is the
key
the destruction of
everything
beautiful is a
given
i refuse to accept the
blame
for any of
this
grey lies the kingdom
a slow
collapse
in an upstate
landscape
an apology
not sincere and devoid
of all meaning
but why would you ever
think
you deserved
more?
why would the dogs ever
bother to do
anything but fuck you
in your sleep?
look
its not the
boredom that
kills you in the
end
but the pain
death with the head of
a crow
riding a silver horse
and
its the past
youre afraid of
yes
and its the future
its all those
bright blue
sunfilled days in
between
the sound of your name
spilling
out of an
ex-lovers mouth
went back to his wife
after he
got bored hitting
you,
but still wanted to be
friends
still wanted to taste
your tears
laughed when he told
you
it was better than
nothing
poem for symbolic crows
all blue sky &
clouds like
some minor
victory
rooftops
powerlines
a map for a life you
cant
remember choosing
but
here you are
gotta hold onto
those
addictions
with care
gotta really listen to
the words of
all those
songs
that were supposed to
matter
take a handful of
pain
and give it your
lover
open fields where i
write this
and then the river
and
then the
mountains
coyote up on baker
hill
man with wings but
no
memory of how to use
them
child on fire in an
empty room
but why lay
blame?
you cant be sad
for every victim or
youd never be
anything but sad
every house here is
the same as every other
and all
roads circle back on
themselves
dog with his eyes
gouged out
tied to a tree
just up past the
interstate
do you speak the
language?
do you sing the
blues?
and yr sister with her
lovers guitar
and her dreams of joni
mitchell
and the reasons we all
have
for running
away
the movies made about
the tragic
lives of overdosed porn
stars
a book full of
gods
who have always hated
you
funny that yr life
seems
as worthless as
mine
a crusade, obliquely
i am not lacking in
belief but,
beyond
myself,
what?
no mysticism
no other or
higher
my generation
a
generation of one,
not
victims or traitors,
not a mass of
bodies surrendering
but
turning away
fuck this is one thing, you see,
and fuck you
another
and laughter at self or
in
the face of
annihilation
at the moment of
impact
pull the
trigger
or push the
plunger
set fire to the
past
i am not lacking in
compassion
but, beyond the here
and
now, what?
erie st.
says shes in love
w/
the poet
says shes lost in
the forest
tell her one or the
other
and she laughs
at
all the wasted
years
tell her the
poets been dead
since
71
and she calls you a
liar
says the baby
looks
just like
him
dreamhorse
in luminous hands
held
the leash and one of us
there
on the floor, on the
other end,
trapped in pools of
sunlight
singing
and had no use for hope
and
had no sorrow
and strange to be
saying that but
any dog that bleeds can
learn to be healed and
what i wanted was for
you to
be the girl on fire
what i wanted was to
be
the ghost who saved
you