summerside

when we step aside from the edge of the roof

when we see the dove’s tail masticated

when the northern light is inside an aquarium  which we did not

build out of our own volition when we are well-silvered

as slivers of ice on the windowpane in the light of a midtown moon

when we are impossible to sunrise when we angel over the guard dog

and recite what songs we know when we are driving far

out of town in a worn out camaro when we grimace

at the hounds that run beside us and keep up the pace when we get

all into it and car-dance with our hands bare and hanging

out of the windows covered in three days of dry monsoon grime

when we stand in the barren riverbed and bribe the sun

for a liter of sweat when we return and the rooftop

is inaccessible when we prop the fire door open with a brick

and stand on our hands over Manhattan when we are given

a chance and say fuck it when we light up in the corridor between our rooms

as if we have nowhere else to go when we have nowhere else to go when

we are grown out of our clothes and our ankles hurt from the low draft when

there is an awakening and we are already falling

asleep when we abound when we revel when we get the things we thought

we wanted because of somebody else when we get somebody else and fuck it

when we bring back the fertile crescent when we are across the range

from the incumbent when we die of exposure and resurrect as philanthropists

that give to war when we war and simulate when we begin to sing and lose it

when we surrender to the disease that everyone loves

when we love like god and feel like cinder when we touch each other

in the middle of an electric blowout when we say the fire in the kitchen

was not our fault when we brake so hard we spin and don’t vomit

when we are dizzy and belittle each other for nothing else

but a compulsion to speak when we are spoken to

and don’t respond when we crash-land in the desert and binge drink urine

from our dead horse when I say I’m out and you won’t let me when you cut

deep into your shoulders with old haircutting scissors when we

allow for being stranded but somehow keep

moving when you are silent for days on end and won’t open your eyes all the way

when we stand in the cathedral and vandalize when I savor my own blood

in the enormous puddle I’ve fallen into when you don’t pick me up

because you’ve been handled when we aspire to walk aslant

but get stung by wasps in the process when we are nursing

when we find out there are too many of us and get a gun

when we play Russian roulette in the mausoleum when we get kicked

out when we are in prison for getting our asses kissed when we sever and stray when

we mistake spice for saliva when I say you’re out and you let go when the ring

finger dangles in front of me when the doors are happenstance when we are final

and there is no other way when we glide as if the air is too thick for us when

we lower ourselves carefully until we are under when the moon is brighter

than before and we can see no stars when the rings of Saturn are obviated

as obstructions to life when we harangue the firmament for always being above

when I grow maudlin and you imbibe when the center has vanished when there

was never a center to begin with when in the middle of lust and song we are

scattered with a fly-swapper when the police is made of eight pounds of clay when we

mold and decrease our volume when we have no symptoms of having been here when

the divider is always nil when we find a place with no willows as far as the eye can see

(for apartment 22)