Near-ly Revised

Can't recall if I've mentioned that I am trying to write about ten particular words that are often used both as a noun and verb. At any rate, the first one was called Near and I really hated it, so have been revising: 

Near

The rule is we all move to the new

suburb that everyone else is in

built entirely out of boxes

filled with the selves of our old photos

where the pictures are still chemicals

and labeled, everyone handles them

you can never be too sure these days

now that you too have oohed and ahhed and

given way without knowing what was

closer than your veins and skin almost

elegant the way it gets inside

like a virus.

In Honor Of The Bittersweet But Best Dream I've Had In My Life

Flash

In the dream I am supposed to be

in Spain under an old aqueduct

tunneling my way to a party

and run into you in one of those

dislocations that only happen

when we sleep and the car alarms slip

into all that we are not thinking

and that we touch there like the granite.

An Accidental Poem

Shift

The man at the airport told me

we are running out of spectrum.

Smart phones will idle

on night stands while we

in the interregnum of departures

and new arrivals

talk of how

China steals our secrets, the pros

and cons of kissing foreign girls on

holiday, the going rate for

soft shell crab if it cuts

like steak two seconds after

red turns a less virile pink

sticking to the deep fried bits

and leaving what we cannot eat

for the woman in the shapeless smock

come to put up chairs and clean so

none of our choices remain to be seen.

Mark

Mark

I need a souvenir; you

say fine and take an old car tag

straighten the crimps with a hammer

that makes blank tones, only beating

the metal smooth enough to pack

and carry on, to place under

the one-of-a-kind whorls of my

skin of my smooth uncalloused feet

to find, when unpacking, you were

careful not to scratch the surface.

Visit

Visit

I would say he is thin

as ginger but I don’t

know how thin exactly

that is. We buy it shaved

into jars with tight lids

the slivers clink against

glass and could be a toast

to themselves shaken out

with or without omens.

Touch

Touch

jets throttle windows, the metal
s-curves my teeth and bone
until aluminum

shows up in blue-white
veins and my face cream
rattles

Wait

Wait

Galaxies move away from us              

everywhere the line is long

wrapped like a dangly necklace

made of people dangling in it

who say they can’t wait to get to

the front. What that means is they do

just that and put up a small tent

outside the shop door with others

opting not to take a number

but rollerskate freely, nowhere

near interstellar space the wheels 

on their boots go faster, faster.