DESIRE

Not so much

At the moment

(drunk & disordered

or otherwise unsorted).

You never know.

Phrases return unbidden.

Unbutton/This/Now.

Nouns are things.

Things are whatever

One cannot know.

One is alone.

One is surrounded.

Isn’t one’s sexuality

Tortured by definition?

You’re translating me.

I’m interpreting you.

Nothing is inevitable.

Little is effective.

An electrical storm.

More pressed flowers.

A Divine Comedy.

Our enforced comity.

Some phantom situation.

Our phantom enterprises.

Let’s start over.

A little more

Than one thought.

(This blank enclosure.)

Closed window into

Whatever is yet

To be opened.

Submission is remembering

Something otherwise problematized?

Questions are thresholds,

Marks of betweenness,

Unshaped boundaries of

_____, ______, _____

(forms of noise).

You want me?

Here I am

(total access for

a limited time)

Some kind of

A bad object.

Pronouns are bad

Actors (very bad).

I love parentheses.

I love to

Fill in blanks.

I love to

Leave things blank.

You love what?

Emphasis is whack!

One wants anything.

Perhaps nature poems?

I don’t know.

Pronouns aren’t natural.

Neither is nature

(that’s nothing new).

Nothing’s like anything.

Please repeat that:

Nothing’s like anything.

That feels profound.

That feels OK.

That feels degraded.

This feels edgy.

What’s one thing?

What’s an object

In your scheme?

Why do words

Look so strange?

Especially ones I

Think I know?

A new constraint

Is an orgasm

Cheated or prolonged.

Desire is everywhere.

Desire is everything.

Who are you?

Want to sing?

I’m not unique

In being afraid.

One could take

A clinical approach.

Still, I want

To say: Help!

Life is virtual.

You all know

This: yes, no?

Poetry begins with

And ends with

Whatever can be

Thought and said.

Or just posted?

Writing is fucked.

To think is

To talk within

A collapsing structure.

The House of

Being’s on fire!

Whose, ants in

Britches, crotches itch?

Raise your hands.

Come and testify.