Life then bounces through a soiled hallway
A repeated joke at the end of the table
That gathers more and more laughs
With every drink 

The Consensus

He, that is I, that is you

Have unmet obligations looming digitally

In a cloud of future scenarios, which the experts agree

Augur ruin or at the very least highly unpleasant circumstances

Little it seems has been done to either cause

Or prevent these events

No one is to blame, despite what many say

And everyone is accountable, despite what many do not say

At this juncture it would be advisable to cease all activity

But it would mean an end to the entire endeavor, and although this

Is probably the only way to avoid the collapse of the entire system

Few are willing to even consider the course of action

One can be certain that everyone agrees on one thing

We are on the brink of something, but since this has always been the only point of consensus

And since nothing really has changed for the worse or the better

The plan continues to be drawn by the very actions it is meant to deter

Tiger Beckett

I.

in the jungles of the tigers's heart

the same jungles are burning

while your mother draws calligrams

with a wooden spoon

the soup of her heart

fogs the eyes of her windows

she hears the songs in the subway

they are inaudible

II.

the tunnels of this imagined city sleep in the ground

a thousand years before their construction

in the dumb myths of the savages

who skin the most beautiful princess for their gods

she rises with agni’s smoke

into cerulean blue

the drums keeping time

the air is full of our cries

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New Year

With things almost ending/But not quite ending /Nothing seems to end /Through the white noise of last week’s dream /The relatives come /An eager spirit haunts us /Like a pornographic treatise from the 18th century / We feel old /And Babble incoherently / Snow falls /It is December 26th 2008   /A pink headless corpse with two bright blue eyeballs watches our every move /At the mall  /A limousine makes a wide ox cart turn /With nowhere to park /The driver slowly circumambulates the lot /An hour later he is still there /In the car /On the way back from shopping /A female reporter tells the usual story of a recent natural disaster /Figures and numbers /7.8; 7.9; 1976; 1989; 9000, 250,000; 70,000 /The curious part of the story is that the Chinese Decided to make the place into a park /And tourism is predicted to go up by 25% /At around this time /A fat baby grabs a plastic toy off the tree /Dogs throw up grandmas’ fudge /Anxious step-moms step out for a cigarette /At one point you stand at the mirror /Thinking somewhere else /And then notice the equable look /Of a cheap plastic Buddha    

Fish

gregorovius thought that somewhere chestov had written about aquariums
with a removable glass partition which could be taken out any time
and that the fish, who was accustomed to his compartment, would
never try to go over to the other side. he would come to a point in the water,
turn around, and swim back, without discovering that the obstacle was gone,
that all he had to do was to keep on going forward...

Danse Russe

when grandma is sleeping
and the cat in the kitchen
is sleeping
and the moon is a pale-white disc
in silken mists
above shining trees,—
if i in my north room
dance naked, grotesquely
before my bookshelves
waving my shirt round my head
and singing softly to myself:
"i am eating, eating.
i was born to eat borsch,
i am best so!"
if i admire the sour cream, my spoon,
your cabbage, beets, potatoes
against the yellow drawn shades—

who shall say i am not
the happy genius of my household?