Published: October 30, 2008

I

In the backyard, the dolphins eat

shrimp with yesterday’s chopsticks.

II

Newspapers fall from the sky,

the clipped-out words are indented

in my tongue, a road reaching up

from my ass to the clit-clat-tit-tap-

crack-splatter-plat of rain falling down,

fallen pilgrims on the underground railroad.

III

I jump into the ocean, headfirst, looking up

staring at the shadow of passing sea-doves

shitting on the sun.

IV

Rainer is a beautiful boy, Rainer

is a beautiful name for the boy

with my clit in-between his teeth.

V

The studied knob has light thin marks

where numerical markings should have been.

When the knob is turned there is a clicking

sound every few seconds.

The knob is black and has a small red line

(brown and silver when scratched)

to signify if the stove is on or not.

The knob can be made wet by careless

fingernails or by falling into a wet sink.

VI

Give me a rocket ship, give me a gender.

I lick clean my profane tongue.

The pills sink to the bottom of the ocean.

My wrist is a rocket ship, my arm is falling off.

VII

The watch is a crooked smile

where the buffalo play all day.

In the afternoon, the clouds melt.

The mountains are made of metal,

the green trees are thin strips of dust.

*WINNER: ACADEMY OF AMERICAN POETS PRIZE, SPRING 2008