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.