Geo Wyeth
It was me
I kicked
you down. I didn’t
mean to.
Your period costume
scared me and i freaked
out.
You fell
out white
flyers all crumpled around
your mourning veil,
clod in playground
dust. Crack
vials or dreams of
heavy books. American
white
People
red
cups a
fuzzy broad halo of
crust.
My aunt came up
from the dead and
she said: Get
Up.
Down from
coughing or
crying too
much.
Blue
swoll lid crack
and peek thru.
Signing bright
eyes, I lean into
sweet rain. You,
Nacho cheese lips,
Blood I
damn I
didn’t
mean to.
Muck bather i love
you but stop
following me
around.
Your strings made
green soot
trails near my
apartment. Tickling
memories and unwanted
freckles massaging
soggy leaves.
I feel myself
hating
our regional
music.
When do the street lamps turn on?
I can’t see
how to hide
Our
master plans.
Please help
me braid our
wavy yellow
secrets,
sewn on
the edges of
born oceans to
weave into
your features.
i guess that’s
the only arch
i tecture I
touched.
Now your
hushed and
mending dimples
bend beside former
stature. Your
Capitol
pain ghosting
lavender Smoke over
this road where i
come and go.
I was hoping
while we were
talking the
river would
get higher and
higher and high
boned eclipse
so we wouldn’t have
to test each
other’s ambition like
this.
There’s a river
of tired
hot dogs
running and
everybody’s a dog
running.
You watched
Under me,
Twice
nodding out,
back handed reach
toward a
map of
another
world calling.
It scared you
cause you knew
i could smell your
hot dog in the
Middle
of our forgotten
exchanges. Drag me
through this
passage
with a boner at a
bus stop. On the
bench, craving
to be
touched.
Dank ass
chaser
I’m wasted.
Your
blurry face
Says I
love you but
leave me please.
Prayer vigil over
dish soap or under
seagulls.