Jane Joritz-Nakagawa


In the belle herald cafe

the impulse in which we fit
it surrounded by the wrong mo-

ment's wet & dry, towel up
have u been there, have been kidding

once, to hold/have, interval shaped
on a mattress glasses clink overhead on

cue i wouldn't go there if i was u or
so it looked on film because

i would wait for u
whirl-y thru typhoons altho my legs would quake and

it happens
in the brochure more gloss, as wildly he walks,

much for a room detoured i
would supposing u could

carefully consume the
leftovers anticipating

the ending which
was after all something

of a failure more
coquettish than

usual sensing no
one coming down the hill


Island Paradise

are Luster make
a big scrape on

thigh green shampoo a tube
of paste could

cement us together like
lava Rocks his

fang, scales, proven in
another Country

on which he
sat the foil Packets of my

mother, which we returned to,
him, motor, Responding, indecipherable

code, break, leave the
door Open to let some of you

in, other dry wall
Color in order

among the lava

rocks, cradle,
Spokes of a wheel, Other

spindly things, toe
nail like daggers under the

covers On Tuesdays
he saw

his mistress Feigning

she too was atop her

or so lover begat

or outpouring Intricate
blue spirals

on 1/3 of his body
a kind of hypnotic

Spell Very good
at making love,

once stepping into
that stream, the foot

didn't easily become
Unglued Prune, wedge,

of lawn, alloy, it
felt Like molten

lava, Hot spiced
tea ridged

like pineapple
raised in

a fraudulent Country.

We applied lilies
and fotos to

the growing wound
I insisted,

with a Doctor's impatience,
that, like your First love,

a bee sting, cigary stench
on a living Room floor

for which you weren't
altogether prepared

poor and served,
if Prevention

can be accurately Measured,
woven by the window, i

too. we are in Luck
you are in a foul mood perhaps

due, dreading frequent trips to
Morocco feeding often on

birch trees and geranium
vistas, folded seas,

glossy skin under which
the whale Hides, no one knows

just why it suddenly thrusts
its body Upward

to avoid capsizing
it could be mere

Exuberance. spectograph by which
i Live blunt

objet d’art which we refer
to occasionally feeding

on the Lava
Beach and hapless emerald vistas

blossoming into a cool V,
wet triangle

of sand between your toes
and mine Sublimated

outpourings obliterated
all else but paradise

catapulting like the
Whale living in waves measured

in breadth wrapped in translucent
Skin unravelling a sea




having once

does not
much any / more



lying in a

life happens
elsewhere slogans
for god

itch for

an object's
air each

bit[e] of
luxury surpassing