Acknowledgements: In addition to appearing in a series of postcards and other author-published ephemera, some of these poems also appear in Cannibal, Columbia Poetry Review, and They Are Flying Planes.
twist riffs and stiff hits
easy way out
busca tu propria caja
root jerk cookie
little sucker one hit
proximo exito
last house on the block
the work on the way to work
we must be in the wrong business
after the hand writing
came to rock
massive passages
dead girl on the landing
read it like a phone number
I was walking tall but I fell
take each other to work it
grind it til you find it
get up & wait
the real live ghost world
hold what you got
repairs on a running engine
my secret job
room for one more
twist riffs and stiff hits
blood creep alarming
partially swallowed
scratchitto of the meridians
and kids are climbing
out of the wood work
clandestine
rut-in-the-hut
odd and offcast
solids of the stars,
wow. the fat man lost
his jollies. sun-and-fun-
burnt on the hardest arms
a backed-up renunciation
getting it unburdened up front
in fantasy documents
the tricky coverage
love it like a good time
let it back to work
easy way out
dark fair matter
every manner
of the morning-ride
to twilight,
asymmetrical path
out and back --
a slick patch of the rite
animals have no time
for ritual
like this one
pick a fight and the barb
of love digs in
conflict engagement
pink in the night
light in my lap
busca tu propria caja
rolling hard with that
lack of the luxury
multiplication train
go pick your own brains
get behind me
and burn one
my flesh it did tremble
but my mind was all right
with delight
that mechanical vibe
she handcranked it
right up in time
steady-tatter glaciality
had a temblor shed glitter
an agitation shared in half
root jerk cookie
roil the fold
ma cinquefoil
licor-a-root
stump tongue
apple bound
all apologize
for timing
maybe butterfly
chew coloné
tactical shift
diddle call-
me-up
must be what she meant
when she said tasty girls
little sucker one hit
living in an area
where the reality
sets in
I got in her
cowboy pajamas
back to memphis
like the prophet
of jamming gears
& harmony
venus's x-rayed
the hippie hippie
hitlist
third time thru
and running
without her shoes on
the ghost rocks
the haunting chair
this is how it felt
when the misery loved me.
proximo exito
el pequeño lechón
golpeó el vivir
adonde la realidad
se fija colocado
conseguí en ella
pijama vaquereño
de nuevo a memphis
como el profeta
de los engranajes atorantes
y armonía
o diane ligero
tiempo listos de exitos
quemadura y sacudida
tercera vez a través
y funcionando
sin ella los zapatos encendido
la fantasma oscila
la silla que frecuenta
éste es cómo se sentía
cuando la miseria me amó.
last house on the block
rat's leaf-skeletons
in the scuttle
just like life
runs to the lee
of the wind
some strange person
calling me their home
ooh baby
it's that
million-
dollar
alphabet
rooting you up
like a folk life
cursive's kitty
passives'-pussy
dipso-DIDSO
ooh baby
you took a heart-
beating.
you should lose
count more often
the work on the way to work
cave-in chest
lost to thought-
killing time
then what kind
of continuing
enterprise
terra squatch you shave it,
I'll suck it
my heart longs
to beat you up
waiting for the depression
to give up and go home
it did before,
it does it will
we must be in the wrong business
the nation is joking
inevitable doom
sudden euphoria
side by side like the two souls
that reside in every body
beg you sweet missqueezing
plastic bag & paper bottle
and a piece of the old beam
only localization
of the special thing
the stars are
interchangeable
after the hand writing
setting off quartersticks
to drown the sound
coming out of her mouth
in little forgotten
lit a woody
with help from the dead
an elephant
sitting on every chest
would open
the habit.
the game called
not this time
came to rock
bone dry and stone high
the cash accrual
early morning ugly
ugly buzz
off by miles
it could be the devil,
cold-calling
an incautious soul
cut me off at half
a question
like any half-
measure
it depends on if
you're the one
who's pouring, or drinking
this leverage is slippy
can't you make it happen quick
massive passages
/> all dissolved her
spots and furze
we got here curious, & tired
newblown radical
river through everybody
pissed off
king's english
isle of texas-
in-a-teacup
it was informative later
hiding on your way
out the door
the uncertainty
was a helpmate
and it left
her pleasure is all mine
my god is a steady supply --
dead girl on the landing
the words went up the stair
and they hung themselves
just for spite. the second time
they hang you it's only for kicks
after all
another of the many
instances of everyday
objects with multiple
or more than intended
actual use.
as if it could have
no ending and no beginning
bodily custody
extension cord
storms are formed behind the storm
we feel. with a patience
for the strange sensation
it takes more than
the doctor's opinion
read it like a phone number
wipeout of all
checked items
battery driven
performance
experience value
reflection and pushback
predicted an endearment
equally unlike mine
an early extra add on
locked in to the higher price
an early start
on the last minute
and getting
the very thing
I was trying to avoid
plus a cut thumb
I was walking tall but I fell
sure as redneck
knows no color
it hit me
just because you're coming
doesn't mean you're happy
she said, you wake me
whenever, you know --
with my heart
in my head
site of my
social lack
as they say
couldn't stop talking
to myself in her mouth
take each other to work it
raw stuff
concatenated
blow me
a kiss
goodbye
she gave me
the key
grind it til you find it
altogether gone
healing power
for the night
in a firewalling-
brownstone
of dallas to richmond
polaroid jim
the fashion
don't hit him
and a home made diamond
band wrapped around her
axle
slipping upstream
like that back door cutter
that kept looking fatter
til it dropped off the table
get up & wait
how speaking
in tongues works
a protein string
dissolves
on the tongue
empty nutrition
but it didn't turn out
to be a paper world,
it turned out, harder --
scrape a lead,
down below
her scar line
all this useless rigor
straighten & stumble
all the whole night long
do what you want
you are what you want
the real live ghost world
her lungs sound
like machinery.
a wet machinery
filtering the stack.
no-narcotic
nicotine
unexploded
typeset
nine-to-midnight,
dynamite
in the mind's eye
the deep fuse
and the short boom.
I am mining country.
fucking dirty sentences
on someone else's paper
hold what you got
a basic necessity changer
wants to burn down with
something harmful awful
non-piece
of the pareil
partive down
reduced to plenty.
multiple pinch
of that stuff
switch to sweat
no-cash account
ocean's contour chain
one link long
why take a trip
across the ocean
when you can already
see the sea
repairs on a running engine
bump it up the backness jack down
sum of the lowest
common denominators
cost
in a simple
destruction kit
flaming star
over my shoulder
don't you fight
the urge
to shut down
on it hard
my secret job
I'd rather start
a fuck
than a fight,
but it is not
always
given to me
to do so --
eccentric magnolia
sole proprietor
wonder why
everybody went nuts
for that damn ophelia --
too busy
trying
to live with the change
boy who couldn't stand straight
whoso has it
and honey don't
her hand fell
into my hands.
room for one more
as soon as everybody
is all hooked up
there's always room for one more
within
and without
the people
want some more.
maybe bring it on home
later, tonight
I have been learning
to trust my capture
system all over again
bootstrap for
friends
& close relations
to shine on.
may no action
always be this reversible,
we flip the switch
from off to on.
Buck Downs lives and writes in Washington, DC; poems are forthcoming in Compost and The Equalizer. Books, postcards and more available at www.buckdowns.com.
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