from "feeld"

        bieng tran is a unique kinde off organe / i am speeching

        materialie / i am speeching abot hereditie / a tran

        entres thru the hole / the hole glomes inn the linden / a

        tran entres eather lik a mothe / wile tran preceds esense

        / her forme is contingent on the feeld / the maner sits

        cis with inn a feeld / wee speeche inn 2 the eather / wile

        the mothe bloomes / the mothe bloomes inn the yuca

from feeld

                                 i
 
                           thees wite skirtes / & orang                                
                                sweters      / i wont / inn the feedynge marte /
                                                 wile mye vegetable partes bloome /
                                                inn the commen waye /   a grackel   
                                                inn the guarden rooste /    the tall   
                                              wymon wasching handes /                
                                                                                 or eyeing turnups   
                      / the sadened powres wee rub /             so economicalie /
                                                inn 1 virsion off thynges /
                                                alarum is mye nayme
                                                                           / unkempt & handeld
                                                i am hors /
                                                i am sadeld /      i am a brokn hors


                                 ii

                  the bit provydes
                  its hors / the rocke
                  provyded a boye
blessynge gode / i wantd 1
       secrete but fore the rod
       inn this / mye longish throte / i kno
       no new waye / 2 speech
       this / the powre off lyons


                                 iii
 
 tonite i wuld luv to rite the mothe inn the guarden / 2  greev   it
  /   &   as   a   mater   off  forme  /   did   u   kno  not a monthe
goes bye  /  a tran i kno doesnt dye  /  just  shye   off   27   /   its
  such   a   plesure   to   b   alive   /  inn  this  trembled  soot  /  u
 lent  /  shock  is  a  struktured  responce  /  a  whord  lost  inn
 the  mouthe  off keepers  /  &  u thum at the mothe  /  a dozen
bes  / i  tetherred  thees  nites  /  i  gathred  so  manie  treees

Seagull, Tiny

The villagers are
watchful

in their booths at
boston market

The boys living on
sulfur

and talking about
feelings

and memory The
united states

is the collective
process of

demanding feelings
and a certain

memory I would live
on synthetics

but i hate fragility
Lonely and afraid,

my women sing, there
is no father

in me They talk about
anything

a limit allows There
is hope

of forgiveness, but
my american

corpse has been such
a disappointment

I would live on
feeling safe

and spilling secrets
It is confusing

the plain people
passing

like potato blossoms
When i first

met a trans person at
age 7

she served us mashed
potatoes

at boston market
Mother winced

and statistically it's
unlikely she

kept the job
I am worthy

of eating food i tell
myself There

is some hope of
forgiveness

for boys I would live
on their plastic

It is confusing that
words trick us

A Note on Form

Never having lived
among things, but beside
forms of things, I no longer
look where the city lifts a little
further, past houses, oceans,
light from a crane, breathing,
no longer looking the child
hurried beside a mother moving
too, too fast at what escapes
the grasp of leaves & awnings
of leaves, past what is lifted
up, whatever word lifted from
whatever throat it’s lodged—
there being only one throat
between us—past perception,
(anything but arrangement)
& nevertheless perceiving,
as we must, what moves between
us, quickening, no longer a roof,
but atmosphere, precursor
& remnant of speech, remaining,
as it must, perhaps, the least
effective of our music

Related Poems

from obedience [the clock is on time]

the clock is on time
because the stars fall
because all form forms time
              falls on the body
              freezes a book
              beneath the water
because the water is an organ
because all arguments are similar
              similar singularities
because we can never discover the subject
because
because is always an object
              which is an object among objects
              which is neither and or
because we expect to find a similar
              before a different set of circumstances
              being repeated for convenience
              causing a similar
              to seem familiar
              which we think
              has an experimental conclusion
              similar to a set of circumstances
              based on an object
              that falls in the water
              which is a simile
because nothing is like an egg
              or a concept of an egg
because there is no apparent singular
              couched in a connection between
              sensible and secret powers
because the question occurs in a medium
              which is a thing
              among other things
              multiplied times a hundred times
because
              a thought is an object within a thought
              an oncoming proposition
              of a possible position
              a reference to clocks on the body
              as an object without a memory
              a memory without thoughts
because the future will resemble the past
because we want our colors to match
              because on a supposition
              resembling something that could happen
because the hand that shook the hand
              of another mislaid thought
              is based on an object
              that relates to the clock

because maybe
              what matters is a seat
              in a new convertible
because what matters is good theme music
              an antidote to putting the horse before the cart
              or a thought with an anecdote
because the object could swim before it could walk
              like interchangeable silence is a demand
              for milk in your pudding
because we are doing the doing
              which is based on the bones of direction
because matter is everywhere
              and like a hammer
              we feel the touch before meaning
              remember touch through memory
              as an object with destiny
              that wrote an essay
              something that astonished someone
              that's now a thought in time
              that has a past
              that's now newer than before
              before it could ever be a question