A Wolf on the Foldsome where the wind
some where the
wind goes
whistling
through windows;
cheering through
clearings and
spilling out
stench;
some where the
wind blows
hot as the
flames go
up and over and
down through
the trench
The Art Of Intentionally Forgetting
it’s just like brushing
dust from the wound;
it’s just like breaking the
broken heart further;
it’s neither noose nor anchor
but some other deadly knot –
it’s the void; the abyss;
the nothing that, miraculously, fills –
the stuff between stars. the
long-forgotten, long, forgotten hours –
the thousand thousand lives
that led to yours;
it’s nothing.
it’s fine.
it’s everything.
creeping greenery
there are names
beneath our feet;
there are names warming the
deep deep soil;
there are names in the woods, crawling
in green bursts,
and there are names
in each rivet of an automobile:
there are things we deem unworthy of remark –
there are swords with famous makers but
nobody knows who soldered their motherboard;
the world creeps on, slowly, slowly,
growing wilder and more untamed;
there’s too much knowledge out there;
more names than any could know.
covered in bites
on the neck and on the arms,
in-between the toes –
everybody wants a nibble,
blood so sweet the woods
are drunk on me –
let ’em come, I guess,
god so loved man enough to
give us two hands
for slappin’ mosquitoes;
but hated us enough to
make ’em in the first place.
Pieces of Bone
I dream I dream I dream I dream i
have died and my teeth wiggled loose, loose, free,
and the small careful hands of
unborn generations, the ever-marching
promise of future, have collected
me & the rest of us as
decadent ivory;
I dream
of my tibia carved into a whale set
swimming through nothing, hanging
from a thin silver chain,
and a tooth here and there shined bright & studded
through strange earlobes –
I dream
that i am just jewelry yet to be made;
that i will leave something of use.
KATAKU BERMAKNATENTANG NEGERI KAYA DAN RAKYAT YANG DIMINTA BERSABAR
Jujur saja, selama ini aku tidak pernah menaruh perhatian sebesar ini pada urusan pemerintah. Hidupku lebih sering habis untuk mengejar penghasilan, merawat ide-ide yang tumbuh di kepala, lalu berharap semuanya bisa menjadi sesuatu yang layak dijual esok hari
in the dream
in the dream i’m no longer falling:
i am seated, feet firm, staring
into panes of glass;
and all my life is within that glass,
every dream within the dream
all the love, the caring,
the hateful blast and tinny report,
the days waiting to end so
i can return, at last,
to the falling.
The Individual Personalities Of Rifle Cartridges
this here, round-nosed,
slow moving from a speck of
something unwanted in the powder-mix, or
that sleek shiny fella that’ll
zip right through a target and the tree behind it;
some won’t fire at all, even,
some are shipped fresh,
but live and expire in
the depths of a shoe-box, but
even an array so uniform as this –
even they’ve got their own
subtle nicks and blemishes –
and maybe the bullet with your name on it
was made defective, too.
rich in spirit
a few packs of lies,
just a few every day;
push ’em around the floor with a broom,
see ’em heap up to your ears –
if you wanna be rich you gotta
learn to lie about it;
you gotta learn the hard way:
the rules are meaningless
unless you’re in the crosshairs.
tumult
lay here but a moment,
the flesh in furious debate with the soil –
each has some vim, some moistures,
some creeping, evil margins;
each a hungry nation pushing
through borders;
lay here but a moment,
that’s all we have,
in the grand schemes of
stars and emptiness;
but a moment to lay here.