makes a go at clopping by my window.
At that point I don't
hear the stallion any longer.
All guarantees
have been broken.
I lie in overnight boardinghouse
to rest. Once in a while
I see children resting,
minimal ones lying
on their backs
with child bones
also, skeletons
also, organs that capacity.
They see and listen
also, taste and smell.
They figure out how to talk and feel
ponderousness and disgrace.
It's great that we don't
keep in mind being infants.
It's great to feel great.
Infrequently I fall
for things I shouldn't.
I think about my guardians
with a kind
of disappointment and sensitivity
for every one of us. A procedure,
like whatever else.
A progression of inquiries
brought up peacefully.
It's an enterprise
inside my body at this moment,
not realizing what will happen.
Something gets constrained in,
returns out.
Whatever it is,
I say only it,
out loud. I choose
on a course of thought
on the other hand activity, and definitely
end up seeking after the other.
I'm upbeat
to be irate,
yet, additionally simply upbeat.
I share a pizza
what's more, film with my wife.
She is similar to a carrot
what's more, I'm a little rabbit.
Our children will be orange.
A bug is squeezed
into a book's pages
on the rack.
Travelers get their photos taken
before incredible masterpieces.
A youthful couple French
-kisses outside
the Museum of Sex.
The moon is full and sparkling
eminently over
the streams, Hudson and East.
I'm 6 feet tall and tone hard of hearing,
a genuinely appalling artist.
I've generally been influenced
by the conviction that the creator
should not have the capacity to see
himself in his specialty. I see
only myself.
Plastic blossoms in a rich,
green garden on
the Lower East Side, Avenue C.
Pinocchio remaining some time recently
a table of carpentry apparatuses.
I know you know
I'm keeping an eye on you
keeping an eye on me
keeping an eye on you. That is
what makes this good times,
isn't that so? Enter to
the most high god
what's more, you'll go crazy,
I listen. Indeed
the rate of light
isn't sufficiently quick
to spare you.
In any case, don't be perplexed.
It's just the weight
that is hard to shoulder.
Event congregation rides,
indeed, even kids' corkscrew
play area slides
make me sick.
Moms shout at their youngsters
what's more, their youngsters cry.
The points of confinement of my direct personality.
I in some cases think everything
I'll ever do or say
is as of now inside
another person.
What was I considering
when I denoted that entry
in the book that read,
This is more established than towns?
As a kid, my top pick
some piece of the day was returning home
also, getting the mail,
pondering what,
in the case of anything, was tended to
to me. I wish rest
was a switch I could basically toss.
Collectedness and inebriation also.
The huge bliss I get
at the point when perusing my sent messages.
Additionally in at last getting straight
the spellings of better than average
also, drop.
Throughout the day at the shoreline,
kids step
out of the surf and onto
the shore. New life forms,
in the fabulous plan of things.
My back is awfully sun-blazed.
Peeling. I get chills and overlook
all that I've learned.
I'm a Mayflower
descendent. My incredible
-incredible granddad
was a Russian-Jewish settler.
Riding in a taxi
up the West Side Highway,
somewhat plastered,
the salt-water air
also, pontoon vapor…
I get unimaginably propelled,
at the same time, not for long.
A dish of new
blueberries and glass
after glass of water
anticipate my entry
home.
A hard-bubbled
egg for breakfast.
The feline. My wife.
The future era
we have yet to have.
Where did this weight
I've picked up originate from?
Why wouldn't i be able to lose it?
I'm in my mid thirties,
my grandparents are dead
also, my guardians are old.
Incessant this feels familiar
renders everything inexorable.
At the point when my wife gets back home
she will kiss me and evacuate
her garments, extend
over the overnight boardinghouse will
examine the day. Most
of my favorable luck
is a fluke.
The awful also.
That is as far
as it ever appears to go.
Another out of shape body
at the rec center
attempting to look great,
a connection relating itself
to itself.
There are no answers,
just varieties
in understanding.
Which is the reason
of discourse. Words.
Over and over.
It's to myself I basically talk.
A man strolling past
me on the metro stage serenades,
Christmas, Christmas, Christmas.
On an expansive envelope I drop
via the post office I compose over and again,
Try not to Bend.
Disclosure of one thing
by method for another.
The material of the universe folding
until every single conceivable way
tight to one.
I'm totally dependent
to my email. Can't go without
checking it like clockwork.
Association with the outside
world by means of the virtual.
Things either happen
then again they don't.
The lavender my mom made a difference
my wife transplant is kicking the bucket.
One of the more agreeable
encounters of my life
was moshing so hard
I broke my retainer.
Twenty-three years prior.
There are no
tactful occasions. History
is in everything.
Furthermore, memory. Faint
ideas coming into core interest,
at that point blurring.
In an alternate life
I'd like to have been
a B-film star.
the sound of activity,
the sun and air
through the open window.
Putting a touch of spring
back in my stride.
This affection
what's more, scorn in my heart.
Be that as it may, in the event that I could simply stay wakeful,
in the event that I could simply stay wakeful sufficiently long
it may all work out. This day
scarcely starte