Lauren Gives Me Directions

“Make a left at the second park,
Because you will come across two parks;
The first one is smaller, and there’s a little courtyard in the middle
With an old fountain, inlaid with a bird – a dove, I think –
A friend of mine once told me the future
Is authenticity, there, while I was crying,
But you must pass that one and turn left
At the end of the larger, uglier one.

“You will pass a shop, called only ‘J.P.,’
That sells the most beautiful scarves, in any season;

[In the ocean with my brother, I wonder]

In the ocean with my brother, I wonder
if I should make my same old walking
into the ocean joke. “Whelp. I guess
I’ll just keep going. Goodbye.” …

Wanda Coleman’s Roar

I don’t smoke weed, I smoke palm
trees. I rise into clouds like

the 110-105 interchange. I take back
airspace from a LAPD chopper, examining

freeways; concrete ribbons, anchoring our smog
and …

PARKED, TEXAS

Yes—alone, I could stop for anything.
Fossil bed at a river’s wrist. Hello

aoudad on Blue Mountain, javelina
gnawing cactus. Stinky the cat hiding

in a closet. Every bee takes an …

Steep Ravine

Between sagebrush and the lichened rocks,
a covey of quail employ themselves.

Light disperses in the spray, and a seal
ducks under again. Home for them.

Swell and curl, the untrained wave

VERNEINUNG

In Belgrade in my hotel room
I return to the self portraits
from the earlier work:

smoking in the tub
while reading
texts on the New Art Practice.

When I step …