Two Poems

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BRAND NEW BED

He wrote “my brother is dead/that’s all i no” 
above the mall tunnel entrance
in gold paint 
and trained finger pistols on our brains
which made us feel actually killed.

Any of us in that intersection
could have read our vaporizing time my years 
of yours I pay for 
internet and light with into his 
surrender. 

I remember boarding this life against winds
that dump me twitching anywhere. 
I’ve moved numb, slid from 
shell to shell to feel 
the brown silk of your hips 
in this pulsing languor of these many-jeweled
necklaces laid crosswise on your skyline now

HOW I’M MOVING THROUGH THE TAPE 

For real you can trust me in a country that can only  
be explained by computers who’ll hallucinate  
to kick it for want of you. 
Each piece of shit machine  
a one man Scientology  
pilloried nude. If I  
may speak in my  
capacity as a waste services customer  
however delinquent I feel  
as though the dinner theater waiter
lip-synched a Kidz Bop version 
of Guns N’ Roses’ “Patience” that snake-charmed me 
all the way into an actual historical street lamp on loan 
to the private museum in a defense contractor’s grand lobby.  
This town will crack open a travel sized bottle, screw it into his own eyes 
because the bond to get out of the county’s 
underneath the potter’s field. I don’t have time to trust it. 
We just need to get out.  
Your grace your faith 
credulity belong 
anyway with me. 
Is the great art of the world not what 
you’ve seen that you remember.