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watermelon radish, lemon cucumber, black sea tomato, dragon carrot, soot
Write with cactus quill— I grip a plum of clay to pig shape pull me through cars with limbs smashed though fathers in there time makes bones grow, I wish a clover fruiting of four-leaf mouths a fortune of weather foretold and defrocked smacking back a car pulled loose a kid pulled free a dad threads a blood red wing and casts words back there to make a tune it is okay to write in turn to dead selves they den us in loam fragrant with movement
To you at twelve, to you at ninety one to me I mean to PRESS NOW PRESS HERE NOW To you at twenty two to you to me I mean to PRESS THIS SPACE ALL IN HERE NOW To you at fifty seven to you crawling on the floor and then you stop PRESS NOW PRESS To you to me to she to me to he to we to PRESS SPACE NOW RETURN tap PRESS I lie to warn away your falling sky, I lie to you I burn and ash, I burn for you I tie and towel and twirl In the river in the sand my legs trace a script PRESS IT PRESS MY CHEST PRESS THIS HAND I burst into cells I blast into suns I turn to you At twenty two at ninety nine at forty one at seventy five PRESS THIS PRESS SPACE JUST CROSS IN TIME PRESS PACE IN TIME TO FACE PRESS FACE touch Sixteen I walk Out into green light blue Light red light helium threads up PRESS ALL SELF IN NOW / TOGETHER / NOW PRESS SPACE Press it tough between toughnesses and face the press Mark time with knees Mark time against feet grounded by feet Place is an oven jar Place is a cask jar Place is a cloak jar Place is a hold jar hold NOW PRESS YOUR FACE ACROSS ALL SPACE NOW At ten I watch me turn into me at forty two To you I watch me now and then thirty seven thirty eight to thirty nine I tune out turn in fill with cells tumoring branching Glancings and ripples of dusts SPRING ME FORTH AND SPRAY I plant my feet against your feet PLANTED! A lash a direction in space. I plant my seed PLANTED! A lacing directions of place. I place my face against the ends of time – a fluted glass – a disk of lime. A match was lit / one is two is three is four times five is six that dies then TWENTY dies then NINETY folds into three lives and breathes and cries Then two fins faster than the speed of light thus two fins snap DRESS UP! / PREPARE TO SHINE // PRESS FUCK IN LIFE AND LUSH LUCK MEND Child, everywhere, a wave of light veers once and only there and only once, But then what? A speck. Then what might become you what might PRESS be WHAT FORTH MIGHT GUM FROM FROTH / twist the bubbles PUSH MIGHT THROUGH SOLID TIME / twist the bubbles WHAT FORTH MIGHT GUM FROM FROTH / twist the bubbles PRESS SLIGHTEST MIGHT THROUGH SOLID SPACE / twist the bubbles Sixteen dies sixteen survives concrete here there three goes in concrete, Blessings be boulders be shrieks be tents all ages catching selves in steps By fusions' gusts here whistlings urn unto intrastellar height. It's Night. PRESS LIGHT. I mean, I want—our hands to sleeve—to hold—UNSTILL a clutch of seraphim. I mean, I want—the end of mine – a fluted glass – a disk of us in time.
Thrilling bromeliads crest wood fiddled like folding lava. Juncos dolphin through the mangroves, tulips parrot out of snow. I will write you a letter about the sloth orphanage, about The words that the apricot macaques attempted with their mouths. I will tell you about the moth that landed lightly on my tooth When I yawned and my jaw grew sore until I decided to push It out with exhalation and touch of tongue. I will make these feathers Live for you, for you to crawl into and turn on the gas heat, fly impossible hats In a warble with a warbler waiting for your distinct timbre. I can distill a tincture of your tears, I can make a perfume from your Secret snore. I can do all these things in the jungle at the pole And make one perfect sugar stick, translucence and transparence Twirled in glass color ribbon, held to the light, dark in mouth: Scissor word this from a printed fiber paper of this and Let the ink dissolve under your shadow, tongue like a pink snowball Held by a mammal hand inside an aluminum house or in the woods. Delete the word this from a lit document of this poem, find a way To make this disappear no matter how and where you find yourself. Place this in the water. Burn this on a pyre of scrap macaques, Jangled and car blown, the through-line will connect to another route, Whether you be tar, electric, made of light or pheromone spat thru tube.