Neighbor

by

Ed Baker

1998 / 2013
 Contents

AROUSAL

CALLING HER

SHADES

FU:SION

INTERSECTIONS

Drawings by Ed Baker
AROUSAL
The Edge

On sill
peering
head tilted

towards
so close
I could
smell
her hair

see into
green eyes

embrace a
contradiction

briefly
confused
to get a
better
sense of

I climb
higher
A Valentine

white wall
lean
ladder
against

to
get to
Neighbor

claim her
attention

ritual is to
rap rap rap
on window

pain

face
reflection in
what comes
back

to haunt
what said
startles as
little gets us
what is also
Object Subject Predicates

untied knot
legs were
made

through window
towards light her
slitted eyes nearly
just so mouth also

a little open hands

palms up

his due that slap

predicated upon
touch

all ears
turned towards
sound tears fall
into spring

purslane
The Letter

What beside letter

slipped
under her kitchen

door three days

lain on counter

unopened nor words

the morning signals

risen with her blind

smell also burning

through crack in open

deliberately standing in

bared breasts and the

leaves in a pile also

drawing all attention to

my lingering in smells

of a woman awaiting
invitations
A Man Visits

Brought me in
to sit beside
her on a Friday

opened an expanse
this woman was in
everyday things

doing

two as one
in my confusion

a direct object
issued out of a
loose fit blouse

dropping all
pretensions
Silhouette

Awakened

days spent gazing

through this window
I swear

not a single muscle

moved for days be-

tween glass and body

and the light through
just so

revealed skinny girl

fronting this desire

legs' wrap into the curl

pitch's towards a certain

knowing

“ MINE “

first suck
ing head
everything

that could
did get
its doing
conditioned
such that

again
caught
in eye

hung-down
hair in real

'tick' 'tick'

still

leaps
into
wants

shadows in
suddenly
through pain

moving
images
black hair

soft in its
flick
just so

the scar
the hurt
was not my
doing
The Set-up

I should have known

better
than to have worn

that hat
for show

it had been a not-yet

prepared for what
went down

like a rabbit that

the hat was made

what was in her head

in my mind to switch
her on

to memorialize the
images : “my father

molested me when I was

young, “ she presented

another want to tell her

that the pain was not the

woman the girl was.

The Touch

In this dark and quite

place
she handed me another

straight-up double whiskey

clearly as chilled as was her
hands her lips crossed

the room and quickly met

in a moment I could not
get out of
The Silence 1

between her openings and closings

everything depended hands went
into

over
under

as clear as seen through

glass-half-empty gave
an additional means to

the blue notes playing

fast-picking strung out
the notes

sharp a stretched an
other trembled low
into a twisted posture

wrap-around body stretch-

ings into timeless places I
might have paid her dearly

and quickly for another sip

of rim-lips' bonded bite
eaten her ripe fig from

tree of heaven between

her there and me …
arms legs as branches

wrapped the movements

around twists in mind as
flip of hair brushed by
me as she danced
'round

up-lifting summer dress

full skirt rising fingers
into each possibility as a

punctuate black-haired
metaphor cannot do justice
to that night (vision)

as before the obvious pass

through went countless
others' tracks in snow
Dead Ignition

green
station
wagon

parked
between
commitments

shadows
moved

all inclinations

push
it
on

far
beyond
dead
battery

whine
had been
unwelcome
then & there

from here
to there
jumper

cables
long
stretch
to
start

her
long-thin
body

hard
against
spark

February, 22, 1999

Tall Standing Nude

fall of into
1996
October

something
was just
drawn

to duplicate
on paper
what in

mind
reddened
that green
complexion

the source of
a man's com-
ing into what

heat
shapes
rising's

that
came
in
waves

and
resolutions
The Move Held

pressed
against
the
moment

without
hesitation
leapt

bound
by
what

front
or
back

in
every
thing

embraced
The Tree the Weed Was

thought was that

it was more than
Tree of Heaven

that separated us

straddle between
properties defined

as
tall
thin
weed

birds
nested
in

for
years
spending

back
and
forth

over
any
idea
of a
right
of
passage
The Warning

cut through
path to her
utility shed

light showed
trench to lay
electric wires

cut tree roots

to get by weed

while warning
that nearby holding
her in doubts that
neither of us could

cut
through
or
just

let go
A Landscape

sheer
dress
was
her
way

persisted
warning
that

thin
branches
would
hold

over-blowing
northerly
wind

through
opened
window

hang
down
hair
between
shutters

that
image
that
no one else
so sees or
calls or comes

smooth as silk
the oiled gate

hinged on
opening in
depended
upon

smooth
talk

last one
in
shut

the
door

the
dark

on on on on

clouds the moments

in her knotted hair
precise movements
undid her braids

red red lip lip

relentless press
in an
instantaneous
facture

what became
of her in that
dark

cast into my
mind her shadow

behind
blue
sky

white
clouds

Shrike
song

lips
moist

open
A View

I hardly knew
her then

there was something

particular that slowed

me

leaves
suddenly
playing
in
warm

breeze

deliberately
I had kept
my
distance

to get a better
view
across the way

for days shades

up

blinds open

nothing was
said or done
for days
thinking
meant

more
of
so

what
was
just
beyond

going
over
A Man Contemplates Sketch Pinned to Wall

Skein
of
lines
situates

her
long
thin
rage

continual
stare
far
beyond
his

perfect
wait

black
cat
stalks
bird
through

mizzle

between
houses
numerate
possibilities
this
hairy
form
frames

face
just
so

hung
by
a
single
tack

in
this
pay-attention
phantasy
Last Word First

1.

wire-fan whirrs

csh …

csh …

csh …

content to disturb the

silences between blades

set on sill brings in

what scents it can

2.

night just here beyond

her shade her lean is in

to provocate

eyes see the way

to get from here
to there is not an
issue

drop into mind half

glass of Cutty over
ice then gone
3.

with a bang
window too

then what was

left :
get
down
from

ladder !
The Glare

from
here

parts
of
a
woman

seen
nor
the
mother
of

what
with
ease
fragged

its
image
as
a
pure

hypothesis

as
her
hard
edges
were
surrounded
by
black
lines

whose
center
no
visible
center

then all
in an
instantaneous
hip-swing
made everything

available
The Touch

what thinking
demands
walking
up Sugar Loaf

resolves

up north side
over grown ivy

valley below overcome

with smoke's pungent
cloud

just beyond the stench

the source of the waste

felt her and my skin

itched up bristled my
hair

image against rock

pinned against with
an old fountain pen

oh, to linger and at

least strip down to
see her loosely held
together.

“We have a complex

relationship.
“My father was a garbage
man.

“Picked me up every day.

“I was young and knew

nothing.

“Oh the stink he made of

me.”
CALLING HER
Calling Her

I wanted to talk
but hesitated

the wait was nearly

a week

before I swung into

my desire to

pick up the phone and

just dial out

get that high-pitched

voice at the other

end the push into a

conversation over

copper enunciator wire

while all animation

was her shadow-dance

behind the drawn

shade called and got a dial

tone of voice

everything shadow tones

of green

what love-wise imagines

also greened
I wanted to call to tell
her that

the call was in anticipation

of

another movement just

another further-down
another poem into
The Cut Is

The cord is cut

just below the
tangle
it is not so easy to
twist it out for her
to have, for that matter,
complete control over
communication on any
level divert these wants
last word that she spoke
became next line-break
simply done as such de-
mands nor can I with little
in the way of instruction
put wrong end of phone in
proper place and hear surely
on the other end some coherent
invitation to come over for a drink
only to tell each other where half-
way met is the point from here
nothing needs be hidden less than
any other meaning needs avoid.
Fill Her Up

Desire is to
merge
words with

images as if
they were
held she is

all else between

these stops to
top-off

center/balance
let us go
point cracks

grey mortar-mix
fingered in
white light

moist kisses
depends upon:

I love the slimy !

The Riff

all distances
written into
poems

painted into
paintings

play by
eye by
ear by

what is read
between these
lines

heard between
silences stranded
time and time

again everything is
to to every other
fret

hair-split minor sharp

riffed against
the way an animal

leap's in mind
in mid air turns
The Cut Through

space between our houses

driveway is long trench
noted as significant rut

as this run of poems the

book is becoming yet to be
broadcast

the burial of its own demise

regardless of all meanings
spelling it out:

mud washes over macadam

where she is luscious up to
her waist sunk into

words of lust and fingers in

“I'll make them pay for want

their wants have done to me”
and give them more

she had said that in the letter

left under her back door
the intent was clear

to reopen old wound between

legs the blood was not exactly
nor were words any more

incisive precise declaimer

breaks in sentences structure
again all of this presses against
two bodies stopped to see
in the opened window all
forms of posing's want
Tuesday Morning

is what got us here

by chance a con-
junction

it is not merely an
accidental intertextual
poem-to-poem would

sooner put foot in mouth

here and now just what was

is now unconditional memory

of an half empty glass left the
key next to already opened

back door wide invitation to

enter her gaze is seen and
acknowledged precisely

every movement words fill

page after all attention is
payed to how her body breaks

in front of couch wave after wave

on floor light explodes and un-
enforced rules in play

first purple crocus

popping
was never so early
The Fall 1

got us
into
a relationship

what had been

not then more

its first-breaths'
taken
deeply into

with tongues into

sounds

hot
words

into
acts
upon

the
squeamish

demands
in
her

eyes
are
jewels
raising
other
issues

more
than
any

nuances
chance
opens

as
hands
dig into

it s
archeology
Letter of Intent

so simple
one line
sentence

gets
her
outside

in front
of shiny
volvo

tinted windows
all around auto

fan only other

sound heard
letter dropped

on kitchen table
signaled my quick
retreat

what
so
were

needs

for
instance
an
immediate
reply

not
necessary
than to know

to hear
what
meant

by
so
clean

discovered
in our re-
flections

her nature
mirrored
in that chrome

tail-pipe
hot
ornament

on hood
is also
pull

to
open
Long Running Sound

it is in
the sound
that bell

makes

DING !

when letters
run
to end

this
poem's
end

of
any
particular

run's along
unbroken

lines
Regarding What was Wanted

given
that
this
manifesto

is
absolutely
clear

as
to
who
said
what
to
whom

between
the
silences

the
spaces

filled
in
more
than
what
had
been

written
One Legged Stance

she
stands
just
inside

of
this
necessary

dream
image
crossed
fogged-in

pond
the
way

as
though
the
road

abruptly
had been

more than
adequate
need to
finish this poem
Sash Around Waist

sees only
yellow
cover

her thin
body in
value village
dress

just this loose

belt tied in

hung just below

belly
to draw attention

to what was on his

mind was also in
her

swing of hips
down driveway
between two

unbuttoned
eyes followed
property line
The Window

the shade was up

abrogating alone
was clearly
visible

on her window sill

crack in blue vase
dead flowers in

her lean towards pane

from outside seen her
as in a mirror

gaze
was
every
thing
focus
on her
sharp
nose

long
thin
legs

the
lead
was
his
eyes
moved
along
her
lines

between
her
gaze

and
her
black

cunt

unshakeable
demands
demands

all
so close that he

stuck in how
there she was

open in the window

green figure a woman
desire for everything

requires
more
than
sitting
A Complication

a woman
pales
in this

5 a.m.
Her
stretch

opens
his
want

song
is
its

polyphony

requires
instantaneous
quicknesses

“you o.k.”

hair
lips
words

press

approach
Another Guarantee

her shout announced that

she was here
the installation
complete

the
house
cleaned

that the air conditioner

had cooled things all
so suddenly

she fell into a soft

smile
which took him in

entirely

from ear-to-ear
that smile
twisting him

in every direction
far beyond the green
car

his key had not been able

to open flower on sill
cat on her

purrings
Poem Also has Form

we cannot
now
go into

the
details
go

into
a
long

explanation
that being
said or

written
could
clear

air
things
defined

as this game
can be played
play;
it was never her
mound that he had
wanted it was
only a poem that
his words had made
Red Ochre

gleam caught in her

eyes
was her advantage

to get inside of
skien
bundle of lines

succumbed to all
redundancies
point towards

center
was
also

pointless

this dancing
woman
whistled

and
he came
half
connected

long thin scars

across her cheeks
stretch to hold

her
kiss lips and cheeks
tits and ass
go was into

brittle hair
every
nuance

discerned

he
had
awoken

to the girl
the woman
was

tall
there
standing
Ten Year Old Scotch

sail-away words on
label
half empty bottle

of
not much
what was said

as
what was
in his mind

written
every
line

is
book
each
word

more-so
remembered
conversations

distilled glasses
removed
to see

up close
pimples
here and there
one after another
she had poured
into
the whiskey

his
desires

mouth-to-mouth
inside swollen
tongue's

outside
puddles
horn

dead
rat
The Day Her Pussy Died

to keep his mind

from
getting moldy

he thinks of her

opening the window

in the 5 a.m.
the door too

looks to see him

perched
on ladder

cat jumps from step

to rat
that had eaten the bait

poison
two

buried
in
back

with
little
ceremony

she
buried
cat and mouse

leaned on spade
no play in her voice
nor softness in her
posture

no hesitation
nor remorse
for:

“ time for you

to
fuck my brains “
She Had It

a proper
rigid
disposition

the
pretensions
were
dominant

he had often
dreamed
dreams

that
were
needed

she
he
understood

cold way
she had
been

taken
now
she
took

flew
onto
him
go was automatic
violent flaying
as if her emotions

her
anger
was

manageable

one
long
thin
leg

over
each
shoulder

was
a
measure
of
what
he
was
there
for

each
word
captured
process

what had been

best left unsaid
pinned-down
as everything
was written

into
far
beyond

anything
more
Continued Pursuit

image in old photo

of her on couch
only in these words

nothing warm
left
in memory

only
imagination
making

she was green

he yet swears
like a mantis

that triangular
head
jutting

pointed
chin
mouth

that
sucked
him

ate
him

looked
like
death

it was all there

in the pieces
hung on walls

he had drawn her

as she had drawn him
in and hung

down
long
black

hair
on
hook

could not have been

any easy way to get
off of couch

on floor
under her
humping

the cat
poisoned
cheap
whiskey

turning
everything
into poems
Of Course It's in Your Mind

continuing
to
feed
him

words
and a
complex

dipping
sauce:

“ You know you want me.

More
Scotch.
Do you mind.
It's so hot in here.
Open the window.
Wider.
Unbutton me.”

she
took
each
step

deliberately
The Cut

scar
also
behind
ear

hair
brushed
aside

covered

ruts
on
cheeks

in
her
eyes
reveals

were
just
there
pain
still

apparent
what was
was done

was
her
father's
first
crocus
gone
into
an
history

in
her
garden

he
had
planted
Naked Woman Stands

very near his sense

of the smells

things not yet dug

into
the push against

her
grasp
bony

hold
in
hand

on sill
just so
eyes
see

what
ears
hear

both
slip
into
sound
silence
makes
another
useless
metaphor
directly in and out
is only inter-verbal
squirm under her
towards any keyboard

play
is
fingers
in

shape
is
slender

body
reaching
unprotected

places
seldom
used
The Eyes

shade
drawn
changes
meanings

her
white
house

from
here
looks

unattended

he
lost
in
mind

distances
made
from
nude
woman
in
the
doorway

figures
every
chance
is merely
its
collaboration
never had been

what had
mattered
was
surround

see
was
as

painful

needle

also
SHADES
A Maven Litigates

from this
distance
it is difficult

what it was that

broke full
blown

with her lips her

mouth her teeth
she opened his pants

this astonished him

the mavin's life-line
interrupted

her bread and butter

on every side libelous
these poems of his mind

written
published
read

with no exposition
nor apology
neither

hesitation

she called her legal

tongue entered mouth
mouth to mind to calling
through ears all heard
litigation would follow
as it was:

slow
cipher
page
after
page

twistings
of
what was

meant
made
little

difference
He Ate Her Sex

smoke in stove
rising
he had smelled

as she had dressed

for the occasion
he undressed

reveal was
dry-rubbed
against his

erection
drawn
onto

another
white
sheet

pretty
piercing
through

wild
woman
on

her
fours

creeping
in that light
tongues went
into the juicy

postures
she had
offered
were

taken
Another Opening Into

once the window

had been
opened
he went
over

suddenly
there and here
here and there

same
haze
and
purple

moments
her dance
the dance

the round
dance
furious

exciting
images
ignite
imagination

poems get
Model Behind

clearly seen
beyond the glass
her single pane

all fingers
right hand
went into

against
her
movings

contrapuntal

shape
in
clay

penetrated

shade up
no apparent
secrets

what could be
found was

what could be
said written
beyond this
writing

turned

symbol

into

metaphor

tall
standing
nude

object
of
his

meditation

what now breaks in

honking
horn out side

on
flower
avenue

her way
signals
going
same
sounds
blowing'
signals

coming

she
was
here

was
ready

stroll was
to her house

pen in hand
Two Weeks Into

two weeks into a new

season her garden a
delight

greens the tree of heaven

between houses
her morning dance

spring breeze
bare arms
embrace

rising thoughts
and smells of love
playing

after all of these

years
how is this

far beyond what

had been seen
he returns to

wrap moist cloth

'round shape in
clay

image
of
tall
thin
torso
pull
is

into

hands
follow
ooze

stretched
deliberately
every

possibility

time had claws

into absolute shape
beneath blue sky

her black mood

time no longer
a match for

oh, to linger lips'

soft touch words'
that did not lead to

commitment

now let him in his own

mind drop all context
drop adjectives
drop
drop
drop

overlooking
driveway
where she

had
waiting
stood

in the
opened
window

vision
was
regular

presence
was
occasion

action
was
demanded

endless
fingers
went
he
could
have
had
her
then

but
ran
away

took
a
long
walk

alone
along

the
longbranch
creek

thinking:

pebbles

in
mouth

her
nipples
This Mystery

despite all of the rat

poison in her yard
one was on the fence

watching her bend

to set a tomato into
what does anything

mean to touch or say or

do anymore than it was
a mystery to him

the skinny of this girl with

darkness in her eyes this
woman the girl had been

gone into by her father

eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
rat bastard that he was

looking directly into the

history that she had in
this dance so close become
The Dance

as a woman dance
she had been

not
by
sound

alone

play
is
in
each
note

distinct
from
any
other's

pluck

fingers
in
pointed
this

again
again
again
in
tempos
proper
timing was its own
in eyes scattering
three times daily

voice gave meanings

to his intentions …
up driveway to tree

piss behind her gaze

saw flag
upped shade opened

window
who was
waiting
is here

adumbrate

made
lines
base

easily
stood
under

hands
into
bush

curl above brows

lean into lashes
just above were want
had always been
song
was

what

eyes
heard

mind
played

in
every

word
this

commerce
Anger Was

the shade
came down
abruptly

the window too

it was that final

these poems are

what
was
left

of the relationship

across the way an

incredible rage
evidently

meanings had grown

far beyond the poems
as well as any other
entanglements

hark was back to vines

hung from top-most
branches out from

moist mouths
a little open
had yet to say
song dance
preceding first

embrace

active
fingers-in

shattered
glass

CRACK !

anger
only

cold-pressed
against
warm oil

pipal
tree

stood
its
ground

against
this
want
to
let
him
fell was into perfect
shape more of

longing
this
woman

had
nothing
along
lines
of
flowers

wilting

dip had been

into many times
words could not

do justice to
any other
innocent

insisting -
nothing
that was said
or done or
written

was real

what had been

revealed
in every
sketch
he saw
her face
The Silence 2

it was not the silence

at the end that
disturbed him

in each warm breeze

she returned

in every word she had

moved

towards each sunset

she came towards him
in the opened window

she undressed stood

in his mind and sacred
trust

words hung loosely

around her waist
a forrest of dead

leaves
mouldering
in each morning

raised shade
announcing
her readiness

May, 9, 1998
FU:SION
Love Became the Space Between

it had been
instantaneous
was in the 2 a.m.

lips along
the curve
the mouth

she had given way

also tongue went
deeper into

sounds
wet
became

what
had
risen

relentless
pounding
The Gateway

opening was
an
equanimity

tall
naked
woman

in
his
eyes

light
made
clear

his
perfect
want

her
black-hair-down

shade
was
also
black

shutters
too
reflecting

as he recalled
loose verbs
embracing
repetitions

pretense
had hold
on bends

to
wipe
puddle

on floor
beneath
him

her
gnawing
distances

swallowed
April whole
thrust the

leap
beyond
possible

“No !”

way
in
had
been

quick
thicket
entered

heroically

closed in
and waves
delight

full
length
bodies

stretched

“touch
me
here

here
here.”

spaces
between
words

between
meanings

between
lines

poems
nothing
personal
Certain Ways She Watched

slowly had been

her want to open
in each morning

window his real

friend imagine
that both little

had been between

them said or for
any other matters

done to placate needs

petals caught in wind
in eye their fall to earth

everything suspended

her laugh
his laugh

first
touch
this
morning's

departure:

this
into
was
sudden
spring
towards
wait for
her

hair
to
dry

fence
around
properly
for
protection

how
did
she
know

how
could
she

have
known

before
any
other
poem
sent
over
grown

weeds
beyond

adequate
inside
meanings

struggled
to make
another

into this
he jumped

opening
back
door

slightly
her
movements
caught his eye

brought him
to down

to
touch

clapping
thunder
opened
want

mind
had
yet

to
feel
her

dry

he had
settled
for her

indifference

had been rule

“what is it
that you want
from me?”

she had
left him

cloud sky
bird song

nothing
A Mirror Of

approximate
rough-cuts

made
going
into
her
a
possibility

any other
way would
have only

complicated

images that his

memory now
held

still
holds
him
tightly

in a certain
confusion

mirrors
Even So

ran
fingers
through
hair

down
washed
blood

from
streak
to
streak

across
her
cheek

walls
mind
shapes
vision

mush
between
legs

stretched
wide
opened

entire
event
recorded
conversation
in this piece

warrants issued not

longer than inside
context's pulling

last gulp of air

and then she came
tilt was in his favor

to
go
out
from
that
to
this:

there had been a steady drip

almost diagonally across from
where he had watched her in
the window open her sex to him

it had been his dream his need

to wait for her to tell him where
to put his hands
In Clay

a
man
had
her

had
gone
into

the
wet
clay

willingly

he
had
old

tools
to
use

to
pull
her

out
of
mud

the
shape
of
his
desire

arms
tits
flat

hips'
roll
towards

prize
to
capture

shape
of
what
had
been

penetrant

tongue
into
open

fault
to
get
the
fall
of
her
hair

curve
of
shoulders

other
parts
a
language

fingered
the
work

demanded

nor
any
other
past-tense

could
get
her
gaze

to
keep
intention
simple

wrapped
in
wet
shroud

moist
clay

pliant

needs

the
lines
demanded

she
hold
between

their
houses

the
opened
window

she
held
her
pose

a
posture
that
he
had
never
been
a
match
for
Fingers In

in that light
he had clearly
seen beyond

the press of clay

into her anger

figure then became

flesh and whole lines
moving dancing

form
was
point

dig
was
into

its
archeology
perfect

shape
in
space

over shadowed
by its hold
Conjunctions

effects
go
easy

from
the
distance

wall
to
wall

hung
her
legs

sat
dangling
legs

sill
had
been

solid
plinth
the
way

young
girls
sit
she
sat
full

length
of
her

exposed

mind untied demands undid

knotted desires surrounded
entire meanings understood
but not explained

gazes had gone back and forth

pretty in white drawers dangling
every chance to enjoin in any
possible response
A Woman Dances

it had become her

habit
to dance nude
in his mind

she was no nun

had not the
disposition

at night
and in the day
she walked

as if her
parade
was

dance

head cocked
in his direction
flicking long

hair
and
hips

to get a better
view
he raised his

blinds
let in the full
view of her
contrapuntal

exhibition
freely given
also bent her

at the end of
the driveway
as the tree bent

she too
poked
through

exactly
the imaginary
became

just what was

contiguous
he had known

had taken him into

the this-and-that of
words in clay
She Stood Just So

night her
shades
were

drawn

into
his
figure

of
her
became

dazzle

look
to
see
her

intrude
again
again

she
leaned
again

against
the
fetch
opened
its
familiar

surround
towards
center

felt
her
press

his
tongue
two

lips
entirely

in the
movement

a woman
came
with no

thoughts
her
dress

on the
floor

nuances
had been on white
sheets
her habit was

to watch him
watching her
slip into an
erotic

in her window
yellow mums
on one leg

stretch had been

to balance needs
with wants

a conjunction made
body body into every
next rising dawn
drew the shade up

window also
he proceeded
cautiously

drawn in ….
Revisits

he had
suddenly
returned

perch
was
his
ladder

there he had
been for ten
years safe

( a quickness in her
(leap from sill to chair
(was absolute

(was mystery of who did

(what to whom or why
(images of recurred)

her legs had been her

greatest assets point
of view determined

what he had tried to

capture

an image of that satisfied

any other's definition
he recalled her anger

sharp words fell easy

from bloody lips
shook him awake
awoke demanded
an interpretation

he dared not speak

or write into silence
was distance:

tree
of
heaven

playing
with
breeze

dance
in
her

eyes

his
mind

leapt
at
every
chance

in-and-out
as imagination
allowed
suspension
in
play

into
hair
between

long
thin
legs

go
had
been
into

gist
of
being

beyond
dawn
drawn
from

clay

from
these
words

struggling
June 21, 1998

window
closed

shades
down

house
empty

here
also
two
had
been
as
now

no sign
of
movement

nothing had come

from her to him as
explanation

morning light opened

to advantage salvage

more stores opened

selling clay images
explode
&
vanish
INTERSECTION S
Intersection

should
anything
inside
or
out

exceed
any
other's

expectation

draw
down
the
shades
Green Station Wagon

witnessed
her
getting
into

this
familiarity
her
bony

ass
newness
caused

there
and
then

he
went
into
her

scattered
body
parting

fall
was
quick

need

other
want

demand

wet

lips

hard

on

nipples

into

what

of

only

in an heap arched
bodies spent
Clay Woman

took its only shape

model in the window
pulled

fingers in mud
in mind exposed

glass eyed woman

rolled between
long dry spells

the hunt for any

penetration

knowing who
had done what
to whom & why

a long line of boys

with their cocks in
their hands

in the opened window

naked she showed her
self it was murder
pure and simple body
parts were everywhere

cracked vase on window

sill dead flower suddenly
in his next poem he had
had her
In This Alone

from
there
to
here

that
smell

dead
flesh
reaching

clearly
it
had
been
his

desire
simmering

skinny
arms
stirred

outside
leaves
falling

sounds
against
unconscious

bag-of-bones
Into the Looking

all over her his fingers

his hands his tongue
had stretched

she opened
he went in
shape of clay
a woman in her
window hair

through
A Bottle Emptied

he had carried a bottle

over
bonded scotch

good stuff that she

opened with her teeth
his fly

what differences done

made nothing absolute
holding more into her

mouth
he
came

“you can go to hell !”

steady stream took

short-cut to dry wait
shudders opened
Less Than Object Is

it had not been hair

that he fingered in
for ten years

pressed noses into

window's panes
methodically

every wished for

whimper begged
his full attention

she cried in her scotch

the lush
hands dug in to shape

he had had his own ex-

pectations of woman
in the window

incapable of opening
any other means' co-
mmunication

it had been that simple

love was more than what
needs penetrated her

apparent anger risen

she had often said:

“I am always lonely.”
as though he understood
what she could not explain
exactly where to touch

the dial twist the nobs

fine-tune short wave in
the grip of just because

how far out of touch & go

down to loins to words
more so of plunge could

how far into her before

dangerous to feel leaving
went away so many years

before the deep-cut healed

she had added to: “You
will do as well as anybody.”

she
stretched
his
imagination

the last time

he had seen
her

she was
packing
her
wagon

images
linger
is yet familiar
pose
against green

vulva

cleaned
for
going

into
vertical
lines

that
neither
where

a
match
for

jump
had
been

high

leap

also
Nor Any Sense Of

back to window gaze

to make any sense
out of

sound of it s opening
of it s closing
shade was down one-
over-one dbl hung

pella brand bought on

credit and came with
sash-cords tied to lead

dead weights in raceways

let slide up down the
easy of every other slide

behind shade body had

ridden up light outlined
expectations

what want was the fit had

also been this incredible
need irregardless of the
day or of the time he wrote
her out as of one mind went
back & forth 'til morning
Fus:ions

he saw
her
in
sharpened

needs

cross-cut

hard on
green's
honed

trued
between
legs

song
had
been

who
surrendered
what to whom
had been given

all adequate
meanings
captured

image of
Resolve

is her cover
hair masks
face is put

just so
to face
every-day

affairs

pull strings
let down
slowly

slowly
she
had
opened

while outside thinking

had been going on in
his too-busy mind

she blinked not knowing

what this wait for him had
been

skinny
woman
in her
window

whistling
certainly
as he recalled
the tune's

adequate

in cold whiskies
mouths shaped
Into Her

center had no
circumference
he went in willingly

without hesitation
she took him firmly
as the tree at the end
of the driveway leaned

he leaned into what

appearances demand
sound surrounds
The Fault

cut-through
crack
in pane

window
had
been

not
open
wide
enough
for his

climb
into
any
further
shove

was
not
in
any
code

her rules
had been
frequently
revised
nor could the fence
around her have kept
the others out

it had come to this

that when the shade
was up they went in

run had always been

to see who ignoring
eyes across the way

pinned her on the table

in the window uneasy
in her gaze on one lean
leg her shift had always
been to get a better view

of her to him suddenly

flick her hairy cunt her
smile went through him

what had been the sense

of insisting that she cut
is balls off he never went
over to kick her in the groin

stand had him on the top rung of

ladder to get a better view to write
to fix to pin this beauty down the
image in the poem repeats : “ I
certainly hope that fingering my
pussy is of some use to you.”
It's an Archeology

mind
digs
into

mother

whose
eyes

stones

color
green
jade

demands
were
also

same
color

raised
more
than

every
other
nuance
choices
opened
The Trench

long
wait
between

lean's
on
her

shovel

dig
is
to

bury

cables
underground

want
is
to hide
thinking

flow
from
any
direction

irrelevant

who comes first

who
does
not
beg

what
yet
has
been

or
had
they

ever

made
any
sense
of

November, 17 , 1998
Love Is In the Everyday Actions

as though there had been no

fence around contained
his lust nor any other thing

he had lost count of every

opportunity that she had given
him to run his tongue into her

fingers too were not the only

thing extreme risk going also
into her

wiped clean glass then open

light let in a breath of hot air

his
flesh
hers

her
bones
his

set out
on all fours
to journey

over
all
denials

one
after
another
dismissed

she dropped
down on him

it was that

consequential

red marked
evidence
what taken

over a short
distance to
her stretch
the shadow
the sun

coming
through
then
made
In This Naked

what there is here

that greens him
now is given
so much sudden
letting go

red lips red

black hair black
she had often spoken

“ he cut the girl out

and left me with these.”

just above her left eye

he rubbed her black
scar from every point
of view she had become

by day and night and in the

window a crazy woman

wanted

that when the shade was up

was his signal to go over
arrange crack-vase flower
Disconnected From

gaze
had
captured
more
that
what
seen

of
her
he
had
no
doubts

black
thoughts
fall-away
hair
hung-down

tempting

managed
affection

full
use
of
her

body
dance
in
plain
view
did

get
his
attention

not
to
see
what
had
been
coming

suddenly
she took
him

pain
going
in

revisits
often
more
than
fuck
start
another

argument
in
all

so
it
had

never
been
her
sex
that he was after

it had been in poems

that shined through
far beyond any trace
of mocking

words
images
hair
lips
shaped

nothing
much
ever
happened

that
had
not
been

where
his
eyes
went
directly
into walk mind's

imagination

kicked brown
leaves
became what
metaphor had
yet to satisfy

by accident
or chance
or choice

these
conjunctions

desires / needs

where they had never

been they where who
knew it least and wrote

into every want more so

than limits allowed :
The Fall 2

what gets us to here

gets us into a relation-
ship not so easy breathing
life into this only or exceed

actions
forced
do
not
persuade

any such
as she had
done is rape

is given in this
manifesto :

it
is
clear
who
did
what
to

whom

silences
were
no
less
than
what
could
have
been
said

yet,
says
it

so