Dating Scene (last poem of the 30 days, one day late)

There is a box that I kept, cellophane

clear plastic sheet, blue exterior.

Inside, a brachiosaurus and water color

of the Hudson seen from Hastings-

on-Hudson. Where is the world you've

built--sapphire stones in groups,

dark seasoning on salads, apples

that break the silences of November.

I'm looking for a Jew, who speaks in

dialectics, whose hues range from green

to the browns around the pupiles, with

hair so curly it is its own forest

and she sings like glory-bound diaspora

like shapes and wavering trees or,

when June hits, dripping popsicles,

her power lies in electricity, her font

is Helvetica and the care she heaves

for the comeliness of things brings power

to this city, she is a glass building bridge

that frames an old post office

she is the camera, the typewriter,

the ribbon stretched across the park,

she slow motion, she is the tide,

she once was. I'm looking for a Jew,

a world to build; can you help with that.

#13: Rain (rain rain rain all day long)

A dance on the garden for three days

rain you are my Rubix cube of night

tell me once again why, on facebook,

your relationship status says single

when my eyes married the sky and

your blackened clouds. I expect,

in the middle of August, you'll

be gone--flightless fox of April.

Let light carry you away moreso than

sour memories of no-fun Sundays; let light

break you apart like exhalations

#12: Rhyme (this was a lame-o rhyme...)

Last night she Topeka

Tonight she'll tell her secret.

#10

Knowing full well that the earth, lizard crawling

on a tilted axis,

would spin upon the sight of her

would that the earth would spin at the sight of her.

She controls the pits of him

the riptides and pools of him

the entrails of him the trails of him

how they blink, would that they'd blink

and set wind lauding the bricks and windows

of city buildings, wings that spin circles

City of spinning circles, would that you

Would, in light of love, int he light

And love would contest not

of its amber vision again,

that is to say, its amber vision is the power

that fills the canyon river and paints it amber.

II (#9, written by people on the street who were kind enough to write something, and a little weirdness at the end)

I would like a life

full of Love

full of expectations, dreams

and hope above all

with trees, rivers, dogs and rain

In a world with trials and tribulations

I find myself searching

Looking for an answer

There once was a girl

who had the whole world.

My most favorite never

have what elephant

Butt: big crazy asophagus

Cherryblossoms, see.

#8: Observations & Anomalies (written at 826DC)

There's a musk ox on the crate!

Parasaurolophus--is anything more unnatural?
Free popcorn--brought to you by Jesus.

Laugh Out Loud: tiny dog, purple leash.

Colest day in April and eating raisin bran.

Do I jog or bike on a Saturday?
Speak Spanish, man, or take a walk; something!

That's my favorite song: Something, Something I Love You.

I don't have anything: bobcat. I don't have anything.

Poem #7: The Charlie Sheen Poem

Mother, I am full of Tiger Blood.

Get me two cigarettes: I've already

smoked the first so you might

as well get three. Have you heard

from the elders, they've found new

boysenberries, each tattoing a name

onto their shrivelled skin: mine.

Lover, find anything other than

wonder, you won't find it.