Assessment

My fingers trace the newly
crafted early 20^th century
looking chair.  Each plunge
into a crevice; the dirt, the grime,

the sweat of detox and fresh
high, the film of receiving and
providing even conjuring
every act of sex known to man

minus the internet, minus
forethought.  I tell him my
frequency (as seen in tides),
intensity (as seen with the moon),

and duration (as seen before sight
and after its gone).  I tell him
of drugs used from age 12 til
my family potentially mourns me.

We exchange war stories
because we are legion and home-
bound.  Scars neatly underskin.
We are ok. Strong sediment.

Spring Break '98

I feel vulnerable:

Like getting naked for the first time on tour

greasy corners you didn’t know yourself

a paltry thing all shower worthy while

you masturbate in the stranger’s bathtub

thinking of how to impress some broad

with cut-off tank top and shorts, beard

girth and short hair.  Thinking of home,

aground, aflame, asoar

to dig with pickaxe

a chop chop sound

arrhythmic in exercise,

ground broken

rocks, worms, roots

yields a hole cleared.

spread and clear,

arms muddy

dirt under fingernails,

this is safe earth

a stone felloe

and spoke of small sticks,

arid grass, branches cracked to fit.

rat-proportioned teepee

in it and of it

hoarded material

meant for burning,

for refuge.

like pocket knife, scrap paper

folded for a dull edge

scraped fingernails

then to penetrate

the wooden ingress

with Prometheus’ goods

filling epergne

barbaric.

smoke wove

up through centerpiece

intertwined like skinned races

then flame

engulfing them all the same.

up and up

ash rose as bats

around the form of man

arms, hairy neck and face,

mouth tasted it

nose inhaled it

eyes watered into it

the ears did nothing but feel the heat.

parry branches

                wind

the canopy

to find all the space,

between here and the moon,

to dissipate into