Not Being Quite Like Other People

not being quite like other people

I slither out of the apartment



like a Paratodon

the dinosaur of the moment


into the hammered alloy

and the molded plastic

of the built world


oy vey – lights

of the twinkling city

on the curving planet


where jobs come and go

physical beauty fades

and markets rise and fall


as mealy as penises

in their greed canopy –

discursively, like brats


sung in a low

with flops and fumes

along a jaded mass


but unattacked and rubbed

against their fate –

they’re hip like cuneiform


down the greed tongue

out of the boring gum

into a glorious slump –


they’re bone.





midway through my life

for the second time

everything’s destabilized


it’s a given –

like hush money

to pornstars


sounds of subway moving

a luxurious concerto –

these head-bent strangers


swiping images of light




“I alone can fix this”

the little blond strongman

in the solar plexus


bouncing shrimp off trump, too


chameleon hatches bright turquoise

crawling, crawling

out of the egg


I didn’t do it I didn’t do it says the train

Sheherazade or Krishna

in brown spots on the door


and a bison-shaped wall smear…



What might it actually mean

to live my life

as I want to live it?


Pale strawberries pushing out of a voice

Pale strawberries

pushing out

a voice





This is the fancy street

next stop, fecund avenue

awash in electro-beats


studiedly, people amuse themselves

as they know how,

knocking back beverages


my foot swells up…like a foot


why y’all like MAYA so much


Friday night:

he walks a white borzoi

through the F train


She stops to stare

at the closet simulation

in the organization store


shoes with rivets

but no laces –

“relationship” such a cold word.


neutral dull palette

in a world where only looks



in the past,

beloveds came to me

so surely


with a kind of sleek magic –

a miniature dachshund

like a dik-dik


but metaphors

I guess

are easier than marriages


either way

two disparate things

forced together




why go out?

stay in!

away from head-bent strangers.


something’s masquerading

as an umeboshi

on the train floor


never again will I romanticize

our usual spots

in New York City


I sit alone

with pursed lips, aware

of my eccentricities


It’s foggy outside.

Dutifully, invisibly,

I do my kegels


My head –

so heavy

like a lavender mask


My head a lightbulb

radiating pink





Train stops in the tunnel

just after a drunk woman

has suddenly puked


a woman with a ponytail

and strong thighs eats

an egg sandwich


tech guy with black earbuds

clenches his backpack

between his shins


I call my past love

into my attention

and give him a baleful look


A woman holds her coffee cup, covered,

to her mouth, as if

she’s praying to it


A vulture stands next to a hat


People are super-strange birds

with necks.


The sidewalk grimaces

with its grids and teeth


I say by way of painful critique.


I sing a single word: “it”

Quavering a little


I’ll keep unmatching

until the lion’s mane

is gone.


Phlegm pools in lungs.


I’m tired of looking at men’s faces.


I see your handsome face dissolve

into a one-eyed puppet.


And the eyes are also on bananas–

are they the high masters of history

or something?


fish sauce smell on the back of my thumb


I’ll have a sharp lamb jerky – metallic squeak.


It’s sarcastic in a bulb –

his highness

in your spot kingdom


never endorse this president

in my culture


I feel offensive.

I’m having 35 minutes worth

of processing.


Spilled gravy on the label

I think GOD knows how to do it


It’s from the salmon man

in question –

the purse development fathers


Playing a rat game.


He died recently –

without VIKINGS –



otherwise and chrysanthemum


Bye little kazoo,

that was on – the maximum?

It’s simple


The thing is, I was hungry

This is excellent in our dreaming.


In the situation with birds, no choice!

I’ve been writing words, consecutive words

with a cat thing:


it is happening.


I understand you are coming from an altitude

of words


I understand you are coming from the attitude

of words


on the egg hold

of this latin poison,

a warble of flood rainbows.