Only Your Good Boy Violence


             It was like


palm trees in a line

      outside the building


I catch my sight

      by: I get it


and it goes. Girl

      overtakes me


in her leopard coat.

      Angora guy


sweeps up his zone.

      A river


slides behind

      the palms, and the sound.


I tune it all out

      too, each getting


a rush in. I get

      the feeling grows.


             I take


my pill daily,

      and the days go by


a curb. I leave

      to cross,


now, to turn

      the one-way.


Not memory:

      I wear the jacket


new, hand-painted

      blue. All over


it was like:

      always meet


your next in fuss

       -free pomade.


Few wear gloves

      in warm winter.


            He swayed


as if he had me

      with his traps.


It was just down

      to his face.


When I inhaled

      the air of him


I felt as if

      I’d only know.


He was sweet

      when he talked.


His mouth closed up.

      Orange pullover


and a cling job.

       I came away,


not even changed

       by the ripeness of his lips.


             In that office


I saw a plant 

      so green it was like:


I insist. Being

      nowhere else


became its own

       effect. I lacked


a window,

      so couldn’t


let in a wind,

      couldn’t upgrade


the moment to

      its movement as


I would have it:

      my body, proven;


the plant, hanging

      up and




It was like snow,




      yes, but there


I go, into it.

      There are beams


between buildings

      so that support


is some bird

       upon them.





I’m to say who.

      And don’t.


As if the good

       it does to be good


            for me now


won’t fall apart.

      I see a bench


on and on.

      Puffy boys


will motion to

      the dirty birds


it was like



to notice, so

      I did. And do,



      the faster


you go, the lighter

      it feels, car-wise,


like memory.

      Because it was.