
I can’t be a cir
cle, I try, lose the haiku
pushing it at you
I can’t be a cir
cle, I try, lose the haiku
pushing it at you
A vomit is an extreme burp
I once consoled Billy Wayne
busy extreme burping on my shoe
I need to start a new elephant
note page for March but was
afraid I’d forget this poem’s first
sentence formatting another
month in a platform I’d rather
paint bricks than use. No
abacuses were used in the how
old are you Jeff the gimmick
rictus of this poem. I’m growing
ON MY FIRST CHAPTER
FAULKNER’S *AS I LAY DYING*
INFATUATION
Adze: needed google
preindustrial handheld
tool’s meaning, he types
Heavy glazing with clear elmer’s glue, I know you can’t see it here, I’ve suspended fountain pen ink and chalk from game day roster cause these need be flipped and toggled in light without staining your hand and seen in light and thumbed for glue-braille, I know you can’t feel it here, here, follow the colors, go
L, love, these paintings
mean anything to you? Do
you want me to paint
more for you? if no
OK if maybe I won’t
if yes I start now
The red blue yellow tubes of gouache L bought in Baltimore were in the same paper bag as the watercolor brushes I bought in Baltimore, uh-oh, not that I’m going to give up fountain pen and watercolor ink but maybe I don’t have to stain my hands each and every night with them, I broke my gouache duck, laugh!
Finished my daily two-dimensional box, time to write
my daily two-dimensional poem
Width my dimension lacking, some would argue depth, I say, Death
to the Either/Or, my gag and epitaph.
I divorced the life of juicing stories and limited my experiential interactions unless
I lie, I’ve tried, I try, I can’t, am a ham liar
Worry stone daily, hollowing, not widening, the thumb niche
I am the only Jeff I know.
I meet other Jeffs often
through work or Subaru
service managers who
insist their name is Jeffrey,
please don’t confuse me
with them, I’m not a James
who hates Jim or a Charles
who hates Charlie or a Robert
who hates Bob or a Margaret
who hates Peggy or a William
who hates Billy or a Stephen
Steve or Michael Mike
or David Dave or Edward Ted
or Eddie. Please call me Jeff.
I’m the only one I know.
Should I write about my marriage at some point? Is this
tonight’s poem? It better be. I love her when I’m with her I
love me most when I’m alone. I’ve tried to make that not
true. She is not here with me now while I write this
poem and I will not show her the poem and I’ve never
asked her to read any of my poems. Tomorrow we hike
the Appalachian Trail through blooming mountain laurels
* | * | * | * | |||
* | * | |||||
* | What | could | possibly | * | ||
possess | seven | syllables | ||||
* | to | stomach | haikus? | * | ||
* | * | * | ||||
* | When | head | grimaces | * | ||
seven | syllables | baptize | ||||
* | Feet | demand | credit | * | ||
* | * | |||||
* | * | * | * |
* | * | ||||||||
I’ve been using clear | |||||||||
Elmer’s Glue for my glazes | |||||||||
Mix watercolor | |||||||||
* | * | ||||||||
ink fountain pen ink | |||||||||
watercolor paint squirted | |||||||||
directly from tube | |||||||||
* | * | ||||||||
half inch of water | |||||||||
let evaporate | |||||||||
half inch of water | |||||||||
* | * | ||||||||
stir vigorously | |||||||||
make. I haven’t been writing | |||||||||
My ban on watching | |||||||||
* | * | ||||||||
moving images | |||||||||
on screens intensifying | |||||||||
in correlation | |||||||||
* | * | ||||||||
to what images | |||||||||
I will not watch tomorrow | |||||||||
in my head today | |||||||||
* | * |
* | * | ||||||
Give armageddonists | |||||||
a glimpse of apocalypse | |||||||
better than | |||||||
Give apocalyptics | |||||||
a glimpse of armageddon | |||||||
yes? in the sentence | |||||||
Give armageddonists | |||||||
a glimpse of apocalypse | |||||||
initiates death stare | |||||||
There is no off-switch | |||||||
* | * |