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he sharpens say to sing

Apr. 3rd, 2014

07:47 pm - NAPOWRIMO '14 -- 3

DAUGHTERS PSALM (A SONNET BY KIRK KEEN)


do you know why i enjoy dogs
and other summer drives

let's go to movies! let's go to movies!
and there's no happening in lemons

or skinnies in roses
o goodness! o goodness! o goodness

do you know why i enjoy dogs
is my summer wishing thesis

beating it's heart in new exciting
mementoes in new little boxes

hey kids! hey! hey kids
i think you can find a way

for dogs in rockets
to fake it, summer dear


Posted via m.livejournal.com.

Apr. 1st, 2014

07:24 pm - Day 2

(Kind of phoning it in a little today ...)

DUENDE



: part of me wants you to touch me
other parts are turning into plants

: O O O westbound teeth and concerns
what are your feelings about me? some money

: "persons of interest" like a motherfucker
while we replace our fingers with switches

: like witches all brooms and wax
hightailing it thru tires, beech, and tsunami

: i swear if i were on a plane right now
we'd gather reeds and feathers like you do

: please keep it down.


Posted via m.livejournal.com.

Mar. 31st, 2014

06:36 pm - NAPOWRIMO 2014

(A PSALM OF SAND) -- A SONNET


let's settle into sandstorm
and screw our eyes onto weather
put rags near windows
wash the grit from our mouth
text mom to say the baby is ok
point out fleets of tumbleweeds
my wife and daughter haven't learned
the squint yet nor how to not get sunburnt
the baby does baby things
dad tells me to watch the high line wires
but he told me to shoot the cat once
so i ain't listening

me i hold my yankee girls in my hands
and deny that much sand a hold here


Posted via m.livejournal.com.

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Sep. 1st, 2013

09:47 am - CHICKENHOUSE

RATTLECAN RED

(these bars they
rattle-can red we)

TOYS, TOY MACHINE, TOY SOLDIER

(put our hands together with each other.
we put our hands in chapels and toy
a toy soldier, if you'd like)

FILAMENTS IN EYES/LAMPS
BURNING SPARKS

(if you'd like i swear
cross my heart
filaments in my eyes, lamps
burn my house)

SOMETHING ABOUT A MAP, SOMETHING ABLY WRONG ABOUT BOLTS

(my house a
tack on your map,
string leading to my sex
right here: something ably wrong about bolts)

DIESEL

(and that time
we found out diesel tastes
nothing like gasoline, or water for that matter)

WE MORTAR WHAT WE _______

(love we reap what we reap/we love what we/
we horror what we sow we/ love we mortar what we/
love: please: we keep what we)

WE

(we&we)

BROOM FLOWER SMELLS LIKE CHEAP THERAPY/A LINE ABOUT FUTILITY OF WATER/A LINE ABOUT CORN SILK THIGHS

(broom flower smells like
cheap therapy but you
insist buttercups, morningglory --

in all things there's no water here
please stop screaming there's no water here

forgive me but your corn silk thighs
forgive me a by&by)

DOOR FRAMES, SYMMETRY OF DOOR FRAMES AND LATENT SHADOWS – CANDLE TYRANT

(right now i want
you to imagine you&you
a symmetry of doors --
open points and a tyranny
of latent shadows.

define a moment, here)

CAMP FIRE REGIME

REGIME/REGGIE/REGIMEN/REGATTA/ROMEN/REGVEG

CAMP/COMP/CUMP/CLEMPT/CORRUGATED

(now plant those moments
and camping, and regiment
around the camping and fires,
and camp/camp/comp/corrugate

slow it and regulate,

memorize a camp fire)

BROOM WINE>CHICKENSCRATCH

(broomwine as cheap therapy
and regiment -- maybe we talk
and chickenscratch, maybe we
disregard all surgeries)

CHICKENHOUSE//BEES AND BRANDIED PEACHES/PEACHED/PEACHING/TO WANT PEACH

(all surgeries to hold
in all bees, and in the
chickenhouse of your
sundays maybe i'll
brandy some peaches
(break me off a sunday
dinner)

Aug. 17th, 2013

10:34 pm - sex of seasons

in hindrance to peaches
maybe quilted baby

laundry in lines desires sun, hints
rain

but here we are and que'd up: deliverance

***

in denied comfort to artichokes we summer

a failed spring
desirous lacy winter

oooo fortuna! ooo minerva
point a sandy arm at salty beach -- i think i owe you a beer

***

an ecstasy of strawberries

smears mother and daughters
blonde and curly blessings

shoot, y'all: an oregon love

***

here's an attention of hops
brother your bucket there

it's summers handle

we afternoon our humidities: shook trestle goddammity

***

i'm a wrestle of years

***

you a sex of seasons

Jul. 17th, 2013

08:33 pm - road



Been thinking about roads. How when we move from one place to the next we move in a straight line, but sometimes that line can curve. Roads can dirt or cleche, they used to always turn row. I've been thinking how when we think of change we use a road for the metaphor. I'm remembering a broke down truck, walking home on a road. Sand and everything. When I was young the road was adventure, a way out; now I can't drive 4 hours without it exhausting me.

Roads are an important image for me.



untitled road project



we statue our fathers, here
.
.
.
.
dollar my fortune, dollar my fortune
.
.
.
.
road there. a whistle
.
.
.
.
from here theres god, a lot
.
.
.
.
wind and threat. Threat.
.
.
.
.
dollar my fortune. dollar i hold
.
.
.
.
how much quiet? blood
.
.
.
.
no one and truth: birds and statue
.
.
.
.
i statue my father
.
.
.
.
road. home. wish
.
.
.
.
how much cry
.
.
.
.
did you money?
.
.
.
.
will you war?
.
.
.
.
truth: my fathers a trembling conviction
.
.
.
.
dollar my fortune. road dollars
.
.
.
.
plants and whores and
.
.
.
.
die/die/reconcile
.
.
.
.
there's a road here
.
.
.
.
there's a road
.
.
.
.
how much bloods?
.
.
.
.
how much statues?
.
.
.
.
visions and visions, here
.
.
.
.
tell mother i love her
.
.
.
.
here's road
.
.
.
.
here we talk about road
.
.
.
.
rocks. see here
.
.
.
.
weddings in barns a barnfire, owl
.
.
.
.
where is kisses? oh
.
.
.
.
here we put truth
.
.
.
.
here we rivers as we road
.
.
.
.
marginal. ha
.
.
.
.
where our roads meets we dirt devil
.
.
.
.
tell my mother not to worry
.
.
.
.
we roads and freedom each other
.
.
.
.
i money and statue you
.
.
.
.
can we creative?
.
.
.
.
and still live?
.
.
.
.
there's daughters in roads
.
.
.
.
rivers talk too much
.
.
.
.
the road. gives nothing away

Jun. 27th, 2013

09:36 pm - Chapbook!

You all that don't know me on the Facebook should head on over to Shirtpocket Press and pick up my first real chapbook! Linky: http://shirtpocketpress.wordpress.com/

I can bore y'all with a bunch of modern poetry blah blah blah about what I'm trying to do here, or you can check it out and ask me directly and we can have a conversation. I like part two there.

Jun. 26th, 2013

11:58 pm - seventeen

pray

your angry hands

no more






please let us

envelope







let us
offerin plate


hang
forth shaking bodies,








sleeping choir





pray for a

lonely day









and your scissoring thighs












plead




with the scarecrow
in our shadow








for caught breath and


gingham skirts









lord goddammity







give


us your closed eye,





her open mouth













let us







sin







and remember the taste of sin

Jun. 1st, 2013

01:12 am - feburary

we write poems in soap
u write poems in soap

please, remember me

and the flowers in your
bouquet the awkward hands

and at church where we
wrote notes

i write poems exactly like that

please, remember me

my dirty hair and laundry
my mother washed

long coats and borrowed
cars for proms and dates and

that boy was a sweet boy that
boy was a liar of a man

please, remember me

folding love letters

being very serious

please forgive me

i write poems in soap
in pews in whisper in bees

please

that boy's a fox wedding

May. 30th, 2013

10:09 pm - water, water

sick kids ate up all the red clay
soldier boys gather, tie their ankles
pretty blue skies, terrible curling clouds

and like oil in water we circle

remember here our misery,
how it lost us everything we wanted

but who the hell can see forever?

oh mother i can't mother pick at
the stitching, lay upon the bed a
book and staff, sharpen an iron edge

mother remember the chicken house?

i hid the knife and they knew.

sick kids listened to a winds gossip
and screwed up their faces against
a sanded argument, grist confession

sick kids stood and knew not to be bored

but who the hell can see forever

and all at once a locust choir bees
Its hymns at us -- a twilight of old
men grinding the old song

'just as i am without one plea
but that thy blood was shed for me'

remember here our misery
and in the ear of the lamb

i whispered two words

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