f. 1984, bor i Denver. Har gitt ut boka The Drunk Sonnets.

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HOLIDAY the sky disintegrating the distance it takes years to know this and Iíve seen nothing so much as a car trembling through my hands Iíve been thinking of transfiguring my heart to the East and the rest the jazz standards lifted from the elevator shaft the parade that goes in and out sewers It feels so grand to be a piano that I am constantly falling out of tune to how the whole time is just --- like your soul was fashioned just for you with the taste that lingers and never quits right before walking into the yard a deer became lightning in you where nuclear holiday is what we need in the shallow parts of the sky a shoal of minnows devoured by lightning the star-belly expanding and swimming pulling leeches off the skin everyone has the part memorized the ass in the sky bleeding double rainbows an enrichment of body and spirit that I can experience as a richness of soil because I am pretty like a little flower and the harder the soil the harder the tick belonging to the soil that experienced the soil as a room to be awakened for life as a cloud of dirt and blood who tilled the earth who worked it who made the pulse a heart skewered on a snake stiffened people go weak when they must go as they say to a place with no sun, a hardly visible moon in the afternoon we took holiday we dressed in black and snake fur we took holiday and let our skulls crack on all the awful on holiday we wait to disrobe we are told never to wait but we must wait in a small shadow shaped like the sun we bake PEOPLE KEEP MAKING ME as a tribute to awesomeness, I preserved my heart in a jar which is only temporary, like vaudeville coming back I am in black face. My appreciation of the bad arts is beyond complete. Here is my neglect of neglect Abused cats, my life is shambles here Abused cats are the best cats in the world Protecting them from further chaos is my meaning in life and I say that without knowing it to be true but here I found a We in a pocket of my heart and connected with it I call this Society which is another name for Why should I despair? because I have all my limbs and all these thoughts I was born with Who is the mother of the kids born without limbs? God is the mother of the kids born without limbs I was born without a heart but Nosferatu found me in the nursery and saved me from the day Nosferatu is now my mother and my office is the most beautiful morning So much that I almost want virginity to be my new friend but not at all I feel so much like a skyscraper that itís disorienting I play billiards to forget my own landscape. I could be anywhere that the abused kitten doesnít mean that much to me now Ė flatness in so many ways. Happiness is so much a verb that it stops working what can I say to stop my own heart but please or look out the window at all the green and blue THIS POEM IS INSANE who in saying anything speaks the name of the lord who can therefore speak the name of humanity my horizon has expanded far too far my lunch is cruising through outerspace and I am tired of munching the hole in space with the hole in my mouth it is true that the perfect medium for love is the empty chambers in which goddamn is a battlecry all the prizes we earn will harm us and be recalled like the glass eyes that break when you blink like the siamese twin you ripped off your shoulder and gave up for adoption a little like the sun that gave you cancer and now finds you cowering in the shadow of a sofa, listening to inspirationals while your neighbors are toasting infinite us God is in our bones now in our crooked bones, loosening the marrow in the underground of our bodies as if hiding, speaking thou shalt obey the undertow of our bodies now follow the bad waves through the hollow of my voice I am the singer and my song was a hit in every decade day is my nightlight impure is my breaststroke I let it all hang out I have been bloodlet my spirit is tiny motion in search of outside

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