Poetry Analysis

one two three four freckles on your left collarbone connect the dots with my middle finger trace to your center line

eyes look north one shoulder uncovered catch my hand

breathe out

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both shoes on sitting on the edge of the bed for two minutes in two different shades of blue tell me I'll miss you

cover the guitar strings with fret wire turn the rotten fruit fresh

leave your earrings behind not to see me again you just forget

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three miles from the blue ridge parkway ninety-three million miles to the sun disc to point to gone turn

your cheeks are no longer red drop my hand left my coat in the car

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you bend down pick a four-leaf clover

: my dad said I was lucky :

only after dark after the miracle your hands on my chest pull when I pull back enough night lights for a shadow sticker on the mirror ripped away to paper

I pack starbursts cherry and lemon — a turtle from the coloring book all in a lump under your pillow

it's enough to take your keys back

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ART

that night again not that night

keep my head still watch the LEDs bounce splice the tape actors jump the film

abrade the faces choke on the chalkdust your outline still on the board

a brush sits in the can fat strokes drop pepper on the shoes you bought me another coat three

: you have to forgive yourself :

I can't deliver at five months

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Lucy

you step behind the wall dosimeter pinned to your breast pocket exposing me where did you go

I turn the dial clockwise six different voices in a second static mixed like a child's fingers crossed in prayer

we lay on the fake grass making grass angels until the rotation blocks the sun with a tether ball pole

pull the aloe from under the sink freeze your hands warm them an inch from my skin cover me

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existing on my manifold the smallest length of my skin

the air compressing between a picked string and my ear a nerve from fingertip to brain

the moment language becomes dream the pink back of my eyelids in the dawn

you are my border my limit

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leaving the angel in the valley I walked the mountaintop laughter following in silence the ties heavy across one shoulder

I lay my creation on the broad stone bind him by my will to my will

his pleas bounce off my ears the sun in a drop of sweat trickling down my raised blade slick thud of steel between ribs

ink floods the altar pours over the gutters and stains the dust mingling with puddled vomit

I wrap the heart in oiled leather

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Will

the ground holds the rain

what falls the sea pulls back to itself drawing mountain streams

comets leave no craters in oceans

salt drains from the boy the tide pools in his lungs

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single file to the grasshopper's body

lift the glass the sun in a point

wisps of shell

of skin

God damn it

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clothes of seven colors for the emperor's illusion

judge — instrument of money and queen

equal to none opposite to all

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not my north nor my home but the fold in the map

not candle but rust or moon but preserved tread

not country or soil but scraping from under fingernails

not vapor melting glue not envelope or letter but teakettle whistle

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walking from Alexandria the rocks pierce my sole through a worn leather sandal

the solstice in Syene I shiver in the black water

your noon light fills my well burns my face

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cut the black ring from my ankle

I called you kneeling in the walk-in closet t-shirts on old drycleaning hangers brushing against my back head knocking into the corner

you printed my prayers on thermal receipt paper shoved them in a drawer behind an empty film canister

held the bottle upside down smashed it on the corner of the fake granite hotel desk the neck tearing jagged red lines in the sheets

don't worry about the deposit you didn't pay it

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wipe the dew off the seat pink east shifting clouds black to white squint before I pull the shades from the fanny pack downshift before the motor turns

lock up at the Y hop on pump

legs spent

haven't moved an inch

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I thought dreaming you to open my eyes

and did so sighing in blind light

and turned kissing your closed eyes

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pop your eyelashes one nipple a sunrise above the comforter your Kali hands tracers of figure eights

: will you do me a favor? pack me one more parachute :

I won't let you fall

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: go play in the lightning a little longer :

never let me win king of the mountain skin red clay grains of sand cling to my scalp for a week

read me to sleep with tracts that look like twenties from a distance yawning

I'm Peter flying before hills of burnt gold

thirsty I creep to the green plastic cup beside the sink swallow three dead flies in the bottom before I realize

wake me up before sunrise

: the time changed :

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Puppets

out of the pool showering in bathing suits water flooding the weeds between the stone tiles

pinky up orthogonal to the rest my dog tries to bite the quarter off the ground it slips between shadow teeth

twisting over me thumbs interlocked your bird flapping against the pup's wet nose I sneeze

autocorrect tried to change shadow to affair