yes this was the being yes

this was the cellular



you hoped i would forget i hoped

i would forget

the pain


go into it, my darling

go in!


the moon is full becoming

back to us like



isolate 4

our huddled loneliness of years past
income fixed
far below the surface
of want

we had one another
and even then

love moved
like science after death


we were for us what no one
knew or could

electricity of being caught
living this way
otherwise isolate
left 4 lost

then came masquerading in wax
taxing the spirit fallen

the heart of ink we smudged
tore in diverse ways

barbed wire knifed
squeezed like cash
touched to fire

pinned on the arm
to fade

off the drag

tired of being picked on
he ducked out of second period
and never came back

it was quiet you could hear
the birds and squirrels
chasing round

an old man ona bench on
a hillside road off the main


gave the boy an orange
they dropped peelings

like flower petals
on the ground around

happy god crossed our paths
the boy
smiled and thanked him
for the orange


bumped it off his


then offered his
blade for the cutting


our hearts located
a drip away from 5

your crow foot eyes

the past got nothing future
got nothing on you
on me

we got each other
in the city feel the kick
of life

hit the latitude
with attitude over dry and barren highways

not one degree short
of circling

encompassing the


the ghosts of poets

arise from the marshes they
trudge to their post

abandoned cabins moored to the foggy

portraits peel off
the walls. unread books crestfallen
to the bare floor

how much life was lost

here? to honor the word

may i conjure you now
at your most glorious
to speak?

to help fight this

useless feeling

we gen x

we gen x in the shadow
of the boom

we subjected to vietnam era
rerun documentary
our own stories gunned
down with jfk

they got so worried
during the second war
they waited for victory
to procreate

the grandparents
in shell shock reverie
we gen x in the shadow
of the boom

we eat astronaut ice
cream and toy with the key
hung off the neck
by a string

mtv lashes out lovely
by light and sound so
we paint the basement walls
all night. under

the influence

bumping our heads
on the deep cut

we gen x
in the shadow of the boom
our thumbs blistered
by joysticks inside the impossible

hidden in the slant
of the attic and papered