YES TO MADNESS: 6/1/11

6/30/11

inside the hive

the cellphones

buzzing angrily

6/29/11

I open the front door

and am assured once again

the world is exactly the same

as I had left it

6/28/11

the horizon divided

into complimentary colors

green and red

yellow and purple

orange and blue

6/27/11

sitting at her large desk

she spent all afternoon

editing the typos from her life

6/26/11

if you can't stop monkeying

around for just one minute

the teacher screams at the students

how do you expect me to teach you

the history of gorilla warfare

6/25/11

mightmight

6/24/11

languish

6/23/11

thernia

thurnace

thumber

6/22/11

scarve

6/21/11

fhought

6/20/11

albatrocity

6/19/11

the cockroaches

watched with concern

as the humans multiplied

6/18/11

that night

the lonely ocean

cried so many tears

it drowned in its own salt

6/17/11

can you please stop playing

that language of yours

some people are trying to sleep

6/16/11

a dark crow

parades across the graveyard

singing his dirty songs

6/15/11

every thursday night the cows

in the apartment above mine

start to moo a little louder

6/14/11

the giant rips my home out

from the map of the world

6/13/11

the plastic doll

cordially invites you

to join her in her box

6/12/11

she tries to sing the harmony

but can't figure out what key

the shower is in

6/11/11

a cormorant told me

when you shake someone's hand

you pass on an ecstasy

6/10/11

I saw mournful stalks of wheat

making love

two delicate curls

6/9/11

I hadn't noticed

the man replied

chomping into his cigarette

instead of his burger

6/8/11

after the watermelon

shatters against my foot

I cannot tell watermelon from blood

my foot from watermelon

6/7/11

throughout the neighborhood

the sound of sunlight

striking each house

6/6/11

carrying a newborn burrito

in a baby sling

she says these days

crazy things are happening

almost all the time

6/5/11

an empty lectern

addresses the empty desk

patient lectern

attentive desk

6/4/11

In the jazz hands jazz hands jazz hands jazz hands

6/3/11

each day I read the message

hidden inside my sandwich

before consuming the evidence

6/2/11

I hold the plate of food

up to my ear like a seashell

and hear the crying of the chef

6/1/11

I lock the door of the house

to keep the bears inside