Three Poems

I Can No Longer Be Friends with Professors

my navel will grow ferocious teeth and eat your family that’s *it*, I’m switching to prose I leave it all in your hands, magic party whore everything depends upon the wheelbarrow crammed up your ass or into the back of your Saab though inside I remain a fluffy sobbing dandelion this is great / I don’t feel threatened by you at all the air is purple and alive again the Mary Tyler Moore Show theme is playing now I remember where I know you from: The DSM IV with that pvc taste in my mouth in the future we’ll sleep in aquariums podcasting my love for you was a tasty bird to eat while you were grading papers / sucking on tweed isn’t it strange the things we have to do to bodies to excite them I adored the blurb you gave me so much I wrote you a thank you blurb, all in italics now sitting cross-legged in the faculty parking lot the sky the color of tenure conifers and elk-upchuck envigorating the pine-scented conservatism nothing ma! no, we’re not enriching uranium! oh only in dreams do I get to relapse Fantasy Answer Encyclical I want to shock you in a wine & cheese kind of way I want to lie with Louise Glück in the back of a pick-up trück My poems shall rule for 1000 years For I schmooze hardcore Chrysanthemum this! Egret of the swooning noon Your glasses will be ready in about an hour Echo Charlie Bravo Sabbatical Ass camaro hit my work study I soooo wanna headbutt somebody My mom farted in your mom’s ear Now give me a grant What’s my secret? Being non-threatening, blandly friendly and benign At all times Did I mention this is a pantoum? Mediocre poets will always rule And I shall be their Prince Albert Because baby you smell like a Guggenheim This Connection of Everyone With Juliana Spahr Totally fill me with kids / “makes me laugh when I’m with you” Dirty aardvark / dirty dolphin / dirty koala / man-eating panda I want to *hit* that shit Greenpoint Station filthy alit Our mouth against the junk / thus swells the boring beautiful chello “I was gonna kill that bitch Desdemona anyway” You always devastate me / and nothing is rhyming The USA manufactures Wasted Lives Dead eagles / dead dirty martians / dirty half-dead wife In the dream I make out with Barry Manilow Amid the inescapable vanilla maw of men against women I swallow everything / puke twice on my mother Sorry I blew off your panel Chased by undead tigers / undead zebras / refried beans I have never belonged to anyone And time is running out

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