Would you be here, instead of anywhere?
I am petty and I know my karma is bad. It’s the worst.
I’ve had grace I don’t deserve and less “stuff”—
generosity, belongings, calm, and calming influences.
Pretty weather and bog sunshine.
I don’t know anything about the west.
I could use how to say I need something (j’ai besoin de)
as the French do.
Would you be in France?
In France it would be possible. I’d be so polite.
I’d be a thought-politic. More than a monster,
thought-craven and snaking deep suction,
tearing at your dress hem, ripping your legs open
over une tasse de thé. In my thought I can be a French,
German, Latin, Italian, Spanish. All cruel.
All-English thought monster, is like an American,
Would you be under my bed
if I were under your bed? in a movie in your closet
taking my clothes off readying for transformation.
I am not like that monster. I want the dark to be something
that hastens us towards morning.
I read things in the newspaper and most of them
seem like they belong to others. Were they cruel,
the train derailments, politician’s scandals,
murders and injustices (global warming!) /
I don’t know! / politically irresponsible thought monster
giddy monster sad monster sex-and-porn-addled head monster
barely alert monster.
I forgot how to read to myself to remember how to read the read /
I like the sound of my voice though.
cinema is more like cruise control /
your poem is like a text message from the cosmos /
gather monster / there is no “goodness” only concepts,
rallys, where you feel most in-control, where you like to have
a thick thick nest, will it be thorny and full of wool.
Would you be in my mouthhead, suffering?