Why I Am Not A Painter

hey. valentine michael smith you
are not. how close i am to you;
i am not. you're my best friend i'm
a stranger

the planet is covered in astroturf
and this feels real to me. when i ask
is anything real, how right are you
saying act

like it is? how close am i to you;
am i not? you're my water brother i'm
wanting

we are surrounded by intelligent
conversation. when i ask can i share
what feels real, how right are you
saying no

Labels: G, lit

a number of desires. it's true i can't
teach you to open doors. when i ask to come inside, there's the sound
of a deadbolt. i have never been truly afraid
of freezing to death, before. these matches

do not reveal god. these matches will not warm your hands; my own hands
are warm from the breath i imagine comes under the gap. no one knows
wherein the house you live. i suspect you look through the keyhole,
but not when i'm looking in. from time to time i speak, and

maybe you hear me. i cannot breathe this brief fire. alone,
my body heat is escaping. perhaps you feel it like a fever. i know
the knob is hot, but it's your space which houses the potential
backdraft, and though the lack of oxygen is dangerous, i'm willing

Labels: lit

you broke your hand when asked. it's this kind of devotion
that scares most people. if i were to give you poisonous berries

you would know better than to take them. something about these games
pushes us together.  it's not just chemicals or eyes.

if this were for life or death, and it is, you would
take arrows but would not pretend to love me. if i were

someone else, a better hunter or gatherer? this magic is medicine. 
this broth is broth. this cave is temporary. these injuries will go.

Labels: lit, you broke your hand

you broke your hand when asked. it's this kind of devotion
that scares most people. if i were to give poisonous berries to you

you would know better than to take them. there's something about these games
that pushes us together, and it's not just chemicals or eyes.

if we happened to be in a life or death situation, which we are,
you would take arrows but you would not pretend to love me. if i were

someone else, a better hunter or gatherer? this magic is medicine.
this broth is broth. this cave is temporary. these injuries will go.

Labels: lit, you broke your hand

you broke your hand and left it there,
with the boulder. the boulder is named sylvester
and wants to help, but rock is immobile

until you push it. sometimes gravity is
stronger than the nudge of your toe or
your full weight on this pulley system.

potential energy is scarier than kinetic energy.
potential energy doesn't think
about friction: it just waits. sylvester

hears your swearing, your self-
composure, but cannot reply. boulders lack
what few communication skills humans have.

your hand cannot talk anymore. the fingers
are immobile and cannot say your name.
this is the worst thing that could ever happen

to you. it seems every word you want to say
requires two of these, and you
are only ever going to have one.

Labels: lit, you broke your hand

peter parker, the spectacular
spider-man. that man is throwing

up the sign
of VOLDEMORT, you know

who, that man is young
Casanova, that man is

definitely

an actor. peter parker, the
total dweeb

is getting sucker-
punched by someone

no one knows, is goggly-
eyed over my physics

homework.

physics denys most of
magic. that man

is holding a stick
which makes a sign

in the air; the air
is vulnerable to

magic sticks. peter parker
has busted his web-

shooters again, damn
those nasty falls

Labels: lit, marvel