Angels are useful
Not just the clean shaven ones
Also the drunk
Who will misplace a soul
In a metaphor
To bridge reality with reality

Life is browse-able
& it can be substituted for salt
It is also sufficient to conduct few experiments  
(Over and over)
The class war is founded on good mathematics
And death is an old fashioned calculus
That will always arrive suddenly
To help cure fifteen layers of sadness

Dragging you into different greasy spoons
How else we may feel the need to be somewhere else together
Because sex needs few cliches
To materialize into loss
It is dangerous to burn oneself with lust
The sufis remember God between kisses
Then evaporate 
When the good wine is over

Life costs much
In five dollar bills
With half a moon 
Dragging a wish to the universe
In the advice of walking
In lying there
Awaiting death or love or both
This city confuses its trees
With kindness 
More friends are waiting

To hide into a French press

                   Or architecture

                Or queer theory

Leaving few stones out

And using my hands to think

About turning sixteen

Without the perversions

Or communist ideas

Nobody is checking you out 

Which is turning me into a liberal

With a wretched view of the self 

      As an impeccable agent
      

Looking at curves
& editing out the wine
To begin from the socially constructed 
It is impossible to spread virginity without software
Flying again - from the speed bump
Into a shooting range
Kissing the silverware of violence
While taking turns meowing 
Into a half empty reservoir
Then the curtain lands 
On a helicopter
Making love

The poor don't exist
They die
Then reincarnate even poorer
Trapping nightmares
An excuse for voice over
& flying objects exporting intimacies
Try us again tomorrow
We would have marked the streets
With over the counter banalities 

poem

To start with
Bringing alcohol to its conclusion
The whole world is one enemy
This is to mark you and you 
For the bullets 
And not for love

poem

Love's impossible tools: 
A new hidden haircut 
Some obvious longing 
To curse justice
I am not you 
And this is partially the problem

poem

to be in the same space
(physical mimesis)
desire trumps the sleeping arrangements
jawless knowledge: a small volleyball 
over cheeseburger - ambulances 
everywhere - ملأنا البر حتي ضاق عنا - 
the pleasure of revolution is spiral - 
Valium helps in counter attacks - or
meeting you for the first time - reroofing
in progress - glass ceilinged and happy - 
Feminism 101 from a headphone - back 
to joking mode - moisturizer anyone? - 
so this is to coil in the soil - astrology isn't
vague enough to help in the class struggle - 
fuck you, poets are first class epidemiologists -
they are a little hazy at times - my apology for 
myopia - I am what I hate - foreclosure time
at the historic garden - I will find a storage
to move on - move up - move sideways - anywhere
a slit can be found