Outside the great divide
   the dogs racked up about wild hangers
   the fleshy neighborhood is still the city
   the wire bled into chairs
   the chairs eaten by dogs waiting for a ride
   the cars humming and strumming the air
   with coarse teeth and hair
   i have learned what comes with you
   dog man fleshy dog man
   and i l did not awaken this endless pain, this galactic hook up with the crucifixion,
   my single cell crusted in this prophet, i am the prophet, for the night
   and for the filthy warm pine and the dusty glance
   of the day
   we meet
   tangling our feet
   in the noisy closets
   barking collars
   that miss
   her when she's gone
   and button up when she comes near
   every morning the dog
   moaning and barking and humping a tree
   and last week i saw two black birds
   out on the side walk
   heaving
   belly's up
   claws locked
   now the fire escapes wind up the brick
   long notes
   from a dieing
   leaving last words
   every mattress, every napkin holder a cry
   that has crystallized
   because there is a sun
   i know god through sands
   torn into long strands
   and i can sing
   my legs around you
   my tongue into you
   surrender too
   our shame, our despair, our reason and patience
   you, father, lover, wordless musics, inside boy
   traffic addicts, sound bound, trying to be careless
   with ecstasy
   the time that binds our
   fleshy lives
   our aces in the tree
   swinging
   with the muscle of the sea
   climbing
   rubbing pussy on the bark
   climbing
   up up up
   slipping down climbing up
   slipping down
   for gods pleasure
   the whole thing, man, the whole thing
   writing it
   going back and rewriting it
   from here
   the fleshy here to there
   i throw up all day from the deep
   it pulls on my deep and i swoon
   i cannot drive
   i cannot remember
   i place the wrong words in the places i spoon
   i will be airborne soon
   pregnant
   inhuman, fleshy home, inhuman
   in this pleasure of fleshy unity
   i seek god i chew the leaves around the picnic table
   i come in close to british guests
   i lick my husband as he walks by
   i am the monitor, the mantis, the anchor
   celebrating
   this fleshy life