I just might leave you

Holding a hand up to the sun
with the thumb out to one side
I become God.
pushing the heat/energy away from my eye

I am like that with you.
I can cover you up and
shut you out
but you will be there. radiant.

maybe I can break your
direction. your smoothness
like a ray hitting
the surface of the ocean

I could bend and re
fract your love to
glance and light
another life. another little fish.

but I cannot stop
keep hold own or
contain you. power and effort
less grace. It covers my world.

you cover my night-fearing world.

From the Past, For the Future

the lessons that we never learn
are that the bed that we make
we have to live with in the day
that we think the past is just
a little dream that will be forgot
ten in the present, but it is
the opposite. the two are
inverted. the past is the
thing that most affects
this little dream that
we treat like a real
and tangible
thing. we
can touch
and hold
and own
making
it our
little
now
mo
me
nt
no
t
a
t
a
l
l

P: My Land

My Land starts out on the
border of Julian and spreads
out to next to that rock
just beyond where the sun
rises now

coffee and toast
no eggs, just a little
whipped butter in a paper towel
in the cup holder of the
truck. Diesel, Coffee, morning.

tanned hands and leather steering
wheel cover. working gloves
and wranglers and glasses
that are bifocals and turn into
sunglasses. Fancy, but won't kick in til around 9

it's only 545 right about now
and I'm smiling thinking about the
might I will use to move and build
and make and ache and break
My life without you

without compromise to your
ideas. its as if I have already moved
and built and broken that wood and those
trackers and that chicken coupe.
my idea is my will.

there is nothing here to stop that.
I am a free-wheeling no-feeling
God-fearing morning-sunlight seein
American Man
I am John Wayne and Jesus

I am happy.

J. Tillman's "Earthly Bodies"

Sex outside
Isn't that what you show us
Josh
and Aja

The fall and rise
and fall

But no, you have a
God here somewhere. You don't just have
sex

you are going on out the
fingered cymbals
and the body
of claps

I am a human
you sing efforts away

Beach
boys sexy
drums and

wine skin
outside in the sun
with God looking down
on us, all of us

NEED a Ride to Sasquatch MONDAY (Father/Son) (Airport to Gorge)

Reply to:comm-5q7va-1186231130@craigslist.org [Errors when replying to ads?]
Date: 2009-05-24, 3:00AM PDT


Hello Friends.

Here is the deal:

My Father and I really want a ride to Sasquatch on Monday. We are flying up monday morning from San Diego just to be in Seattle for the afternoon/evening.
It is my dad's birthday and it's like a gift to him to go.
I am 23. a student. with long hair. and sometimes a beard. I am nice and like a giant.
My dad 50 something. British. looks like Eric Clapton. talks like Eric Clapton. doesn't play guitar.

We just need to get picked up around 10am and we would cruise with you and buy your gas (all of it) and treat you to grub, which is way cheaper than car rental.

you: just not be a crazy killer. preferably with a beard. unless female.

I would want to talk on the phone before hand. kinda makes sense.

please only apply if you want free food and gas and you have 2 seats. and you don't want to kill us.

thanks.

100 Poems.

100 poems.
zero comments.
one hundred ideas.
Zero Publishers.
100 years.
zero readers.
one hundred prayers.
zero answers.
100 blisters
zero bandages.
one hundred fathers.
zero mothers.
100 captains.
zero sailors.
one hundred lovers.
zero police.
100 dreams
zero nightmares.
one hundred dollars.
zero people to buy.
100 voices
zero ears.
one hundred deaths.
zero tears.
100 answers.
zero questions.
one hundred gifts.
zero christmas.
100 seats.
zero attendance.
one hundred lungs.
zero cigarettes.
100 noses.
zero flowers.
one hundred eyes.
zero hours.
100 clocks.
zero bells.
one hundred children.
zero pills.
100 choirs.
zero chills.
one hundred spins.
zero needles.
100 feets.
zero shoes.
one hundred miles.
zero blues.
100 keys
zero locks
50 doors
zero coughs

hallways
windows
sounds
cymbals
lumps
mumps
pimples
clouds
drops
apples
eves
adams
couples
trains
locks
salmon
runs
lifts
mammoth
deer
keys
flats
apartments
cats
broadways
numbers
area-codes
digits
computers
widgets
aortas
veins
losses
gains
systems
results
spirits
pole-vaults
skateboards
trees
aunts
uncles
Jims
Pams
fillets
spams
burkas
gams
stomachs
tans
friendships
phonecalls
children
remembrances
days
nights
gods
rights
one hundred poems.

HIVES (or the like)

SO i have been
debating how to write this poem
all day.

I managed to figure that the hives I have
on my hands would get in
flamed when I typed these words

and that the more I
typed. The worse they would get.
but that's child's play compared

to what I have for
you. I am doing laundry as
we speak

so that I don't have to
scratch and fumble
over frog like skin stretched

over my hands that wrinkle in all
the right places
to hurt and crack open so

sores would take a cortisone
tube atleast half a bottle
or more. these little fuckers

don't want to stop for a day
or more they are just so
(pause)

complicated. they talk to me
and inform my mood
that is why I yelled

at you earlier and I'm so
sorry that silly little
outburst. I know I ruined the card

for the wedding.
"Happy Wedding, Jason"
I signed without your

Name. These little annoying
sandwiched bumps
made me redo my laundry
at 12:40pm. haha right. well that's that.

My Father invited my Mother for Dinner

My Father invited my mother for dinner
and my step-father and my sister
and possibly my cousin if he is around

It would just be some salmon
and a small salad
and some cake

tomorrow night
some wine and champagne
and cheese

I decided not to tell them that the world
I have constructed
would disappear with that dinner
my father at the dinner table
that I knew without him

he can't be the most alpha male
all the time. you can't get divorced
one day and reconcile twenty years of
distance, the next.

my father got divorced today
and I am eating with my step-mother
my ex-step-mother
my nothing
I am eating with my nothing.

My Father invited my Mother to the creation of nothing
Mr. Jason Nothing
A nothing nothing

with salmon and
salad
and cakes
and wine and
pain. so much pain.

You are immortal

it is pretty early
and you are looking
pretty early
without your makeup or your
shoes

your breathe is like wine
and rusty turpentine
but honey I ain't got the
blues

Cuz them legs been cookin
and them eggs been looking
like a scrabbled Delicious
mess

I did them a number
and its not a wonder
that Lord I need to
confess

I love this woman
This wondrous woman
her hair straight wiry
black

she got me in her sights
and roped me in tight
my belief has turned into
fact

well the other day I came home
and after a ramble and after a roam
but this lady, she knew what I'd
done

She didn't care about the others
about the sisters of the brothers
cuz I was her only
one (and she was
carrying my son)

She got the frying pan
hot as vietnam
and threw in those eggs
we'd done made

cooked um up right
like the dead middle of the night
and that's how this chicken got
laid

You see I love this woman
This odious woman
my belief has turned into
fact

She makes me this twice about them girls
and the nights
my turning leaf is turning
black

She's got me in a vice
pickled me soft and nice
this ol' dog ain't got no
attack

Future Noir

Walking along an edge
a windowsill
in the rain
"That was irrational of you"
you says following closely

oh this dream is full of animals
acting like robots
and vice
versa

I hang from the stone
with two broken fingers
I climb and I push with the blood from
my nose

The neon and the bell tolls
in the thunder clap
and smack I lay back
and breathe a deep breath

but you have not left, only for a moment
and the fan and the smoke or the steam is my dream
matches the blue light of the night
and this dark and light scene

Brand names
and there you are about to fight me
a predator waiting for his prey
and I pray you see
that I'm just the detective. I'm not the runner

your bloody face and I can't hold on with
eight working fingers
I'm done for

You leap across to my rooftop
and you stare
"quite an experience to live in fear isn't it"
and I fall

you catch me
with your blue eyes of death
and you left me live
and I struggle for breath

you sit beside me, you aryan god
you slave "I've seen what people would believe
attack ships on fire. . .I watched sea beams glitter
all those moments will be lost in time. Like tears, in rain."

and you saved me and I'm no longer afraid, the capture is not the captive
and I have gone insane. He saved my life, I don't know why.
Must have loved life more than he ever had before.
All we wanted were the same answer.
How long have I got?
I'll I could do was sit there and and and
I'm finished.

It's too bad she won't live. but then again who does.

It's no wonder I never watched this before. The music is just fine.

May 12th 2009

It's been a long day
and I'm a new man
I've got some new hands
and a plan, oh a new plan

I dusted off my jeans
and my boots
and my teeth

cuz baby that flesh aint so hard to reach

and as I look up and see the fading suns light
and the moon on my back cools my jacket
with night

I know that I've made it, I have done what I need
I have bloomed and I've shriveled, nothing left but a seed

No the mornings light is both present and beyond
its here in a flash and its the most far gone

cuz the green of the sun, and its reflection on my eye
has just said goodbye, and here comes the tide

of the stars and the wind and the night's stampede
moving the grass and the blades in the tree

and i turn to face the howl of the moon
my yellow teeth reflecting his grin and his tune

a whistle from above, see his lips are always perched
but its silent up there, we just hear it on earth

the trees are his lips and the wind are his breath
I ignore his dimples and admire his cleft

the figure of the moon is a man, that's right
he's silent in the day and his whistles in the night

and my boots gets wiped clean from the sound of his song
and I know that tonight nothing can do wrong

just the desert and the moon and no horizon to see
a few miles to walk and chant a decree

a melody that must be older than these words
a whistle in the wind that man has heard

since the Dover cliffs born
the white sand clean
and Agamemnon looked up with
his tempestuous stream

of cries and tears
down the deserted street
the moon's crater felt
that water on his cheek

because man and the moon are one in the same
our distance defines what we know to remain
for the image is nothing but a shadow of the real
and that space between is excatly how we feel

I didn't pick to know what it means
to see the earth and to realize its dreams
but be at a distance and not to take part
i was made to be there, at least in my heart.