from My Twentieth Century

dear name I’ve started dear same all the time I’ll be
you saying my teeth glow enough right outside
some smiling at each other assholes party dawdling
on thou shalt not skateboard painted on a church
parking lot I’ll be you if you want threatened and
hiding out there towns like we have hours in now
most sink in temperate asylums with ceremonial
figures care in never making a declarative statement
stigmatics-in-law dying of nothing in particular all
evening fraud and dirge swing us sleepy digressions
being dimmer stars reveal themselves without
watching tongues fighting for space in the invisible
other-heavenly of houses worth ourselves finally
worthy of someone more ourselves our pale ghosts
and nosebleeds the climate is hardly felt shoppers
refer to it


dear name I’ve started over dear night wind up dusty
gravel coming to one of two scenes of us in the water
sneezing and talking about God as missing wishbone
almost-caught eyes some dark alone with us sang-into
empty-as-ever some poor pushed-on devil or when
he’s not shining Venus or both up and gone brain
ever-blind droning rules as found out there a light on
us in scary water reflecting the whole night shut over
it or bowing moonlight through floating lustrous dust
for yards under us smaller than hairs beautifully
circular rusted shore off the last counted road what
are we here he’s been nothing quite lovingly


dear name I’m starting again dear breeze dear
tonight these are my fussed over and never-get-here
letters sentimental about highways me and soon and
please the gap between your days and because I
didn’t say it this question will be repeated I need to
preserve this timeline so someday no matter how I
think we were trying to end this there’s me watching
in remembrance of things I should have suspected
you should have kicked me in Italy I’d have hit the
blinker and all our dead friends are here snob by
snob a hundred pretty girls at their headstones zip
their normal jeans okay cut my hair while it exists
nurse no fumble with me in the water nurse yes
there’s this madness that always got between us be
enough still enough to whisper it into


dear I’m afraid to be sewn into bed or average
I’m two pieces one there and across the room
dumbfounded or disemboweled my horns and old
horseshit held together by moisture and static like
lunatic halves of a licked cellophane chair-
temperature like life but entertaining the way your
eyelashes are vibrating

Chris Zinger (© 2008)