the globe & male

POEM FOR INSTEAD OF

this limber, stretch, smoke fill my mouth, no new names for it: having
failed, having forgotten everything, having a history he
has, not a knot now not now, breathing somehow but mostly panic and alarm
clocks and text written all over the body for no reason except to have text

written

all

over

the

body

i get scattered across the earth, threads come apart, my skulls comes apart, you witness, we quarrel, nothing gets quiet enough not even at night always this noise of the earth. he looks not like you. he has been tightrope walking over the oil swamps. you have a locket and a wedding ring and some driftwood from my home lake. the sweat in this coffee is sweet in this coffee. i vomit but mostly it is birdseed and pumpkin guts. like: seasonal. you collect it, we wrap it in velvet and rice paper, the yard starts to move quicker than the yards around it which means we are moving faster than the earth it is a blur of sand and wind and shit and piss.

there is nothing that i want less than this desire. i am done with desire. some semen is nothing: swapped, burned, littered. what is the point in sharing the body if it does not alleviate this feeling in me somehow: the pit of my stomach is cherries crushed into sand, thunder moving through us, everything staying still as still as everything can stay still.

in plain english: i am scared of what will happen when i close my eyes, will
i remember my own name, my address, my favourite colour, correct
me if i am wrong this is wrong right? let people
call out loud for nobody even if nobody means specifically you
your name
over and over
who are you
over and over

the lakes are still looking for somewhere to become ice