here in the beautiful

heat

digging & digging for

you

in your wide & wonderful

pause

day subway

de doggie

I was trying

to say it

writes

in bites

citizen aged local literary

queer cocksucking shop-

ping pussy

manifesting not

will Arnold win

if you enjoyed

smoking in bars

study French expressionism

employ your

loss

buy a car

take a course

make a college

buy something old

again & again

& again

the sneaker

swings

I like it here:

it’s orange

& my hands are free.

The new book

was composed by picking shit

out of a wave.

Wherever they said vague

I thought vague

I couldn’t help laughing

standing at the bottom

of my pit.

I thought Mark Twain was

here in the

crater of a giant

tomato

big artists like error.

The tomato

Missed.

Being intended

to hit god

it hit his mother

I speak for

her.

 

 

Excerpt from Sorry, Tree by Eileen Myles (2007, Wave Books).