WEBVTT

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I have to read one
poem for Bruce McGrew.

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He asked me to read it.

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It's called "The Long Bells."

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"Dream, please no favors.

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Your last one,
the wings closing.

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The spirit lady, the
blue was too much for me.

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I'd like to not to know
things like that anymore.

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I'm not Superman.

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It hurts me.

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I'd like to live in a
cigarette advertisement.

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I'd like to just walk out and
beat my belly like a drum,

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until they scratch my name off.

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Dream, I want to
get dark like you.

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I want to live with
the people named

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star, who get worn down
to the moon by jump ropes

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and being unfolded.

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Is there anything that would
come through like a mountain

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and look, and go back
and take that long?

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I want that one.

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I have never said no
more dream, but I am now.

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No more please, No more.

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I mean it."

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"All the while you're
growing up, you

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try to catch up with your body.

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You try to fill it.

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Try to be big enough to be
in your heart, and your balls

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and your brain at the same time.

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And when you don't,
you feel sick all over.

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Then you learn how to love,
filling and emptying, filling

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and emptying.

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Then how to not love,
when you don't mean it.

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And then to not even want to be
loved, when you don't yourself.

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I thought that was
where God started.

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I really did.

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When you could force yourself
to forget yourself for once,

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then you would
fill with yourself,

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because it wasn't for you,
but for just being human

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and that's God, but
it didn't happen.

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I'm even less.

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I used to be able at least to
jam my whole cock and float in,

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and there'd be
silence and nothing.

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Now I might as well be
alive and one poor

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or one black molar.

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I roll through myself
like a dead seed,

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and the ground's dead.

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And there's no God, or God
is somewhere in the seed

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the way I am in myself.

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Who holds you?

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Everything dead.

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Everything like the stone
you put in your mouth

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to make spit when
there's no water,

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and they follow
you to your body.

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The ants have made shit of you.

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The sky swells through you.

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Night, morning,
everything, everyone

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crying, why aren't you here?

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And you hear on the tongue
into the flesh, I am, I am."

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I hope they're going out to
see the basketball game,

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and not because they
didn't like my poem.

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