you can't tell me--

--i'm the goddamn

lieutenant of Ireland.
king of Man
in the Irish Sea

could a little recognition kill you?

the assassin cracked the rack
sinking stripes in the right side pocket.
blue dots
where the cue stick struck
matched her mascara

her opponent’s
attention she owned
like a material thing
of ephemeral value
and persistent weight,
his best bet
always this moment
holding ruin at bay

in the trunk
when she finished
he fit into a suitcase that did not say assassin on the tag
during her trial, nobody spoke the word assassin
assassins she met would not recognize a fellow assassin
technically, according to the OED, she would not qualify as an assassin.
but you
sure did look
like a senator, she said,
regarding the impetuous bangs
that framed
his bloody face.
she hated labels anyway

imaginary sentence in a made-up book

 To convey the image

balls deep in dismemberment
one
first
must
choose
how deep 

the dismemberment,
ball's altitude,
and will the speaker squat
or stand?

Reckoning

 He must have made it past algebra

the indecent parables 

he submitted as proofs in geometry
entertained mr. adrenochrome
enough to earn him a C

how he ended up nestled in the crotch
of the best tree
among many that lined the canal.
a fat cat,
you know, an industrialist
with an elaborate lunch set
on sturdy limbs
overlooking
common phrases
disguised as
grafitti:

Jackie Allison talks to the Cable Company!
Dave divides his time between London and Paris!
You’ve got a beautiful family!

Could it be the math got him here?
he marvels at that

and a crumb
plucked from the folds of his 

calico dress

Kick Ass Drummer

he mounts a basket of fruit

above the love seat

for every hit

that knocked you out.

 

when a pear from basket #1 rots he drops it

into a mason jar

of 151 and labels it Goodnight.

 

hit me three times

you’d holler.

 

and he would give it to  you.

while the rest of the band

talked about how silence is music too

The Neighbor's Radio

 The cold broke this morning.

he purchased new socks for the trip

had a long look at himself before he went,

clipping hairs up his nose.

he planned on crossing his legs--
like a civilized person--
to flash his fancy socks.

this early sun was official,
stamping long shadows
on back-lit strangers
unmenaced

by cinematography.

at the donut shop he stopped for a dozen
which they took with his phone and keys and change and receipts
before he was allowed to visit.

“Guess what,” he said.
“I figured as much,” she said,
refusing to look at him.

the sun set on his obligation to her,
coaxed an impulse to drink alone.
despite the Bill Evans trio,
didactic,
the melancholy speed he needed,
he still couldn’t hear
how these new speakers were worth it.
his troubles played better framed by
the AM station corridos
from the apartment down below

Defenestrate

because there I buy greeting
cards and drugs
to keep my brand new Harley
from clogging my arteries 

I will defend the windows of the CVS near me.

it’s just a window you know, 

but certain times of the day you're sure to see
truth and bravery,
laws, rules—
and my values framed in a halo of sunlight.
It is the antidote for starving kittens

narrow shoulders draped with stars and stripes,
my head adorned with buffalo skin,
I paint my body
like a dentist's chair so
my boss won’t notice me prepared
to take life, God willing,
to protect this sacred glass

i have a juice box in my fanny pack
and shoulder chips
filed to points for stabbing and
drawing the line we cross today.
beasts treed and let go

How to never forget a movie you didn't even see

Alone on the expressway,
our apocalyptic fantasies go full Cormac:
fireworks erupt from all points on this blasted landscape,
rise around us
as we fly over in
the fuel-efficient mini van
we just had sex in
alone
as we had been
at the WesMer Drive-In
cause they're open
on New Years Eve.