Heaven

Thursday, July 29, 2010


NEW YORK

When we met in New York we had been some time apart. I had last seen M at the beginning of July and had traveled 8,000 miles since then. M had traveled from P to P, had had a birthday, learned to drive, and developed what promised to be an somewhat enduring relationship. C had returned to me just two days before the trip to New York, having spent the summer away, much of it on the water. Then there on 8th Avenue—M. We exchanged gifts and ate together. Then walked to Brooklyn over the bridge. I had a single responsibility to discharge and walked to Williamsburg in the evening for that purpose, leaving M and C together where we lodged. They were asleep when I returned. In the morning we ate together; then walked to Manhattan. In the evening M returned to P and C and I returned to P too, a different P, the journey taking four hours, though we still had some distance to travel before our arrival home.

Friday, June 25, 2010


attention

i rub a corner of my world
+ it becomes a glass
through which to pass
into another world

Tuesday, May 18, 2010


What do you know

I can’t believe dentists look into people’s mouths.
I mean, the dentist looks into my mouth!
Well, I don’t have a dentist just now (yet) but when I did she looked into my mouth. Regularly.
Male dentists and female dentists have looked into my mouth but mostly male.
Dentists look into priests’ mouths!
Dentists look into mouths no-one looks into not even the mouth’s owner.
It’s all uncharted territory except in reverse.
It’s more like the maps were lost.
No-one has looked into these mouths for a very long time but maybe someone did once upon a time.
My dentist who was female and the last dentist to look regularly into my mouth was called Wendy Wu.
Her hygienist was Danielle. Hygienists really do more sustained looking into mouths than dentists do + hygienists are nearly always female so that means most mouths (including mine) are probably looked into mostly by females; also there's mothers.  Though we didn’t have hygienists in Ireland when I was growing up.  The dentist did it all (and dentists were nearly always male) so two strikes for Dr. Fay. Close one!
Dr. Wendy Wu’s practice was in a regular house on Hope Street.
I liked going there as much as anyone can like going to the dentist.
Everyone who worked for Dr. Wendy Wu was female—which is not unusual but it’s different somehow when the dentist is female too.  Sometimes I’d see them all out to lunch together in the restaurant by the park.
One time I asked Dr. Wendy Wu if she liked being a dentist and she said No, not really, no. 
Then she retired. 
I was stunned.
I hope those excellent women won’t mind me writing a poem about them now. 
I don’t think they will because they collaborated with me on another poem once.
I thought this would be a short poem. Whatever about poem I can usually be sure about short.
It’s complicated.
Turns out all that walking into their house with my mouth so they could look in it made them part of my life.

Monday, May 17, 2010


YUP

I've had a lot of disappointment in life
(mainly in men)
but one thing indubitably
lives up to its name—
tack cloth.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010


HERO

I had a lot of time to think so I thought I'll think I'll be a hero.
It was daunting. Like that could be a lifetime endeavor.
You'd have to be super-good, work super-hard, be super-disciplined and well...good for a very long time.
And the thing is—it took me like a second to think of this.
The whole course of my life changed in a split second!
Think of what I might be capable of thinking if I thought longer—like a minute for instance. 
That was just a sliver of time + I came up with this! 
Think of thinking for five minutes! 
Or even not consecutively—think of thinking like a string of beads minute by minute 
in the great big wide + deep cauldron of time and thought detonating 
surging your world into rhapsodic dizzying sunburst.


WORK

He worked really hard.
He worked really really really really really hard.
He was no good though.
I don't even think he wanted to be good.
He just wanted to work really really really really really hard.

Friday, May 07, 2010


THIS IS ME

this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me
this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me
this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me
this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me
this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me
this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me
this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me
this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me
this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me
this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me
this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me
this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me
this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me
this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me
this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me
this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me
this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me
this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me
this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me
this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me
this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me
this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me
this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me
this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me
this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me this is me



TOKENISM

One thing I don't really get is when feminists or I'm not really a feminist buts repudiate tokenism + pour scorn on it + reject it + dismiss it + push it aside. I want to be a token. I want to be the token woman on your committee. I am great at being a woman; I'm sure I could be a token if I tried. Does it involve jewelry? Or gifts? Never mind. I want to be your token woman winner. I want to win the token woman prize. I'll be the best damn token you have ever seen. A real heavy paper-weight of an embossed of a sealing-wax of a 100% cotton rag pH neutral acid-free paper token. I'll be your signed sealed and delivered token + I'll mail myself. I'll be the token woman in your magazine or on your podium. I'll be the token woman on your list. I've got a fistful of dollars. I'll buy your token any time. I've worked like a ... woman all my life—I'll take a ride on your shiny token if it comes wafting by. Gladly. I am the subway. Happy to move away from the tracks ma'am you bet. Thrilled to step up + into the air. Charmed to be carried for a while.


Sunday, May 02, 2010


Tonight

The cat is fed—out—
children in bed
I want to drink water
sleep—
maybe finally.

Thursday, April 29, 2010


Tonight at Symposium Books
240 Westminster Street
Providence
Mitch Clark
Mairéad Byrne
4/29/10
6pm


my book is one thing but steve fama is something else

Wednesday, April 28, 2010


for brion gysin

writing is 50 years behind painting
writing is 100 years behind painting
writing is like totally behind painting
like all the way

Sunday, April 25, 2010



a few questions about color


Mark Milloff + Mairéad Byrne present:

couscous@tazza, tues 4/27

music                         poetry + jokes                     music
9-10pm                           10-11pm                                       11pm-midnight
Jonathan Bonner        James Blose                             Arvid Tomayko Peters
Laila Aukee                  Randy Bretzin                         + Modest Machine
                                       Mimi Cabell
                                       Michael Gizzi
                                       Matt Long
                                       Patrice Payne
                                       Aaron Tieger


                                       tazza
                                       free

Thursday, April 22, 2010


A RANT AGAINST BLACK

There is no default in poetry.

Sunday, April 18, 2010


when

when

but not now

not right now

when

soon

that time

then

in the future

in that spacious room
not now

very soon

imminent

then

when
in that spacious room


Wednesday, March 31, 2010


UNEASE

I get some of my best ideas in the tub. I never go in there without a notebook. And a cup with a bristle of pencils. And a sharpener. One thing I’ve found myself thinking recently is What if the tub smashes through the floor? This is an old house and there are a lot of problems with the things I can see. What about the stuff I can’t see? I can see straight down to the basement from the dining-room for god’s sake. How do I know all that water's going where it's supposed to go? I like to fill the tub up. I like to stay in there a long time. I like to top up. That's a lot of water. How do I know it’s contained? How do I know it’s not pooling in the ceiling, softening stuff? And if the crash comes will it happen all at once in a great WHOOSH or will there be a kind of one-two-three staging where I have an intuition—brace—suspended momentarily in the agony of impending before we smash—tub, ton of water, me—through the ceiling splat onto the floor below where I become a blot aghast at the great empty Rorschach overhead emitting desultorily descending rotten floorboards, hunks of plaster, like the middle distance on a snowy night? But honestly it’s moot. This poem testifies how far past intuition I've come. I’m all ears, my skin a total organ, neck a good old S bend cranked against the rim, elbow and knee pipes just like well elbows and knees, my entire conglomeration of tubing taut—braced for mayhem. I can already see myself cracked like an egg on the floor below, bath tub on top of me, a tide ripping across the boards a smidgin faster than it can rain through. I won’t want anyone to find me like that, naked, broken, sodden. I’m not crawling away from this; I’m done. I’ll have to give up the ghost without a damn thing to cover me. Pinned on the floor, helpless, hearing the whirling sirens focus in. Another possibility is the cabinets in the kitchen—all those monstrous plates—crashing down, tearing lumps of plaster in their wake. Or spiders in the teapot spout—a different theme.


Tuesday, March 23, 2010


HIEROGLYPHS

The character in the form of a canopy, which represented
the heavens, was coloured blue; the character with the upper
side undulated, which represented earth was coloured
red. The sun is always red, with a yellow border. The
character which represents water is coloured blue, or bluish
green water. The flesh of men is generally coloured red, and that
of women yellow. Portions of the human form, the mouth,
the hand, the arm, the leg, are invariably red; flowers, fish, animals, and
insects, are of simple tones, and suggested by their natural colouring without
shading; but in inferior works sometimes they are only green and blue.
Wooden objects are nearly always coloured with a pale orange, or buff;
bronze utensils,
green; and blue, with a few exceptions, is generally reserved
for geometric forms, plans of edifices, &c.

from Henry Noel Humphreys, The Origin and Progress of the Art of Writing, A Connected Narrative, London, 1853, 51.


I’M THE MISTAKER

Totally absorbed all day making mistakes.

It’s a free country. I have a right to my mistakes.

I’m the mistaker.

Proud to be a mistaker!

Heavily sweating through my mistakes.

I love you but though I dearly want to I cannot rationalize my mistakes.

My mistakes are my mistakes. Your mistakes are your mistakes. If we could understand each other’s mistakes we‘d be a me not an us.

When I remember life on earth I hope I remember the glorious days muddling through mistakes.1

Happy as a sandboy today embroiled in my mistakes.


Wednesday, March 17, 2010


HOW TODAY MEANS TOMORROW

Well they both begin with T obviously.
Actually they both begin with TO.
Then MORROW = morning = DAY
So TODAY really is TOMORROW when you think of it.
That leaves us with an opening for TODAY.

Even if you don’t want to go that way1

TOD
and TOM are both guys’ names
and AY and ORROW both mean Yes (in Dutch)
(so in a way both TODAY + TOMORROW mean Yessir!)
which still leaves us with an opening for TODAY.

      1 because for example you might say 
MORROW
= morning = only part of DAY
though
MORROW being longer is the bulk
actually the gestalt of
DAY.
So it's okay.

Saturday, March 13, 2010


reading in philly tonight with matt hart + nate pritts!

Thursday, March 11, 2010


CLOSE

We're close, very close.

I mean she-answers-my-emails-

close—that close.

Monday, March 08, 2010


reading at the poetry project tonight!

Thursday, March 04, 2010


Creativity Prayer

Creativity, grant me the creativity to create the things I cannot create,
the creativity to create the things I can,
& the creativity to create the difference.

Wednesday, March 03, 2010


COUCHES

Mairéad sits on her couch with Clio + Marina (when she's home), also Vincent.


Steve sits on his couch with Mary, sometimes.


Tyler sits on his couch with his wife, his cat, his best friend called Zach, and his parents.


Adam Robinson doesn't have a couch.


Ms. B sits on the couch with her roommate's kittens. Sometimes her roommate. Or two roommates. But never all three roommates.


Daniel sits on his couch with his girlfriend, and sometimes a friend.


Chris sits on his couch with his wife.


Sean sits on his couch with roommates, visiting friends, + drug dealers.


Drew sits on his couch alone or sometimes with his mother or sometimes with his father or sometimes with his girlfriend but mostly he sits on it alone.


David sits on his couch with his cats and his girlfriend.


David sits on his couch with his cat.


Matthew doesn't have a couch.


Morgan doesn't have a couch but if s/he did s/he would sit on it alone.


Robert Alan Wendeborn sits on his couch with people.


Nina sits on her couch with friends + coworkers.


Jason sits on his couch with his wife, his dog, his son, his daughter, his computer, his blanket, his pillow, his ego, + his sense of existential crisis.


Germary sits on his/her couch with Formals.


Milford sits on his couch with his spouse.


Marshall doesn't sit on his couch.


Trey doesn't sit on his couch regularly but when he does he sits with the dog, his girlfriend, his roommate, his computer, the television remote, the playstation controller, a pillow, a blanket, his brother, + his mom.


George sits on his couch with his mom.


Zachary sits on his couch with his son + wife.


Marie sits on her couch with her cats.


Steve sits on his couch with his cat + roommates.


Aaron sits on his couch with his cat + occasionally less furry people.


Jim's couch is in the garage.


Nathan Tyree sits on the couch with his dog, Roxy.


Jenny sits on her couch with her cat.


Laura sits on her couch with Dean.


Alex sits on his/her couch with no-one.


Mister sits on his couch regularly + not regularly with his dog + wife.


Adoley sits on the couch with his/her father.


Uli sits on his couch with his wife.


Jones sits on his/her couch with his/her hamster.


Nathan sits on his landlord's couch occasionally with Robbie, Davis, Julie, Courtney, &tc.


Andy Devine sits on his couch with his wife + their cats.


Jeremy sits on his couch with his wife.


Pho sits on the couch with Jenny.


Madeleine sits on her couch with family.


Richard Lawrence Zachary Whalen never sits on his couch but when he does he sits alone.

Peter Davis sits on the couch with his wife, his dog, his children, + his guests.


Heather sits on her couch with Hastings.


Maria sits on her couch with a dog, a man, + a fuzzy brown blanket.


Susan does not sit on her couch regularly but when she does she sits alone.


Tim prefers the chair next to it but will sit on the couch with the cat if the chair is occupied.

Margo sits on her couch with her cat Lixo.

Katie sit on her couch with her boyfriend Matt + her goldfish swims at the end of the couch.

Ken sits on his couch with a girl.

Stephanie sits on her couch with Francis.

Paul Hanson Clark recently sat on his favorite couch with a girl named Su. Sometimes he sits next to Neal or Alex on his 2nd favorite couch while he eats.

Jared Allen Ellis doesn't sit on his couch. He lays on it but only when his stepdad isn't around.

Ross sits on his couch with friends, monotony, drugs, alcohol, + his own poor self image.


Alison sits on her couch just by herself.

Shaun used to sit on his couch with various ex-girlfriends. Now he does not sit on it.

Tony doesn't have a couch.

Peter doesn't sit on his couch regularly but when he sits on it he sits on it with his wife.

Luke doesn't sit on his couch regularly either but when he sits on it he sits on it with his cat.

Liz has a couch and sits on it regularly by herself.

Bill sits on his couch with his wife + kids.

Jared Samuel White sits on his couch with a pile of books.

Charlotte Marion Baker sits on her couch with Joseph Daniel Lawlor.

Chase Kamp sits on his couch with his roommates, their cat, + some guests.

Mork sits on his couch with his GF.

Matt sits on his couch with Melanie.

Brendan Egan does not sit on his couch regularly but when he does he is often alone, which allows him a nearly indecent amount of leg room.

Kim sits on the couch regularly, with Lee and the cats.

Clio sits on her couch regularly with her mom, her sister, her cat, blankets, pillows, and a coverall that keeps falling down!

Elizabeth sits on her couch regularly, by herself.

Anna doesn't have a couch, it's her parents' couch; and she doesn't sit on it; she sits in a chair because it hurts her lower back to lay on her tummy; she sits on her couch with her laptop.

Steve sits on his couch—but not regularly—with Dave.


QUALIFICATIONS

Mairéad's couch is actually a futon. Sometimes she lies on it, and falls asleep. Like most nights.

Steve prefers the chair, or pacing the room.

Drew doesn't sit on his couch regularly + when he does with whom he sits depends.

Nathan has four couches. It may be an illness.

Adoley sits on the three couches in the house more when there is snow.

Pho has a couple of couches + sleeps on the loveseat.

Peter Davis has two couches, one longer, one shorter, on which he regularly sits.

In Paul Hanson Clark's house there are 3 couches + he owns 0 of them. He sits on 2 of the couches in his house regularly; the other 1 he sits on rarely.


SURVEY

Friday, February 26, 2010


CATS ARE CLEAN ANIMALS

Cats are very clean animals. Even the males groom themselves. Even males with very few other social graces. Cats are independent. They’re not like dogs. Dogs are all over you panting & humping on your leg. Cats are aristocratic. People write poems about them. Like T.S. Eliot. Like a patient cat etherized upon a table. And smoke snaking around like a cat. And the musical. Cats are quiet. You’ll never catch a cat barking its head off and keeping the whole neighborhood on edge. Cats don’t bother postmen. I once saw a mailman with his scalp half torn off, blood like a waterfall over his face. That wasn’t a cat. Cats are quite useful. In the country they can catch mice and rats. In the city cockroaches and centipedes. Cats let you know if something strange is afoot like a bat in the attic or a foot on the porch step. No—I wouldn’t have a cat.


Thursday, February 25, 2010


YOU THINK YOU KNOW SOMETHING

You think you know something about caulk.
You think you know about the different kinds of caulk.
You think you know how to use a caulking gun.
You think you know how to say caulk.
Well I got a question for you—
What makes you think you know anything about anything?
You think you’re running the show.
You think you’re doing a pretty good job of it.
Well I got news for you—
No-one’s going to your show bud.
You don’t know anything about anything
And nobody’s going to your show.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010


STRIPED


The day is striped with grey
+ vivid color—
not tethered to
the sovereign coils
which shear all color.

Sunday, February 14, 2010


SHE LIKES YOU

You like her
You know you do
You like her
You do
You do
You know you do
Uh-huh
You do!
Know what?
She likes you too!
She likes you!
You two!

Monday, February 01, 2010


Competing impulses (NEA application 2010)

Whether to get sick
Have furious sex
Or stab myself with the mohair just now emitting from my brain.


The Real Work

This of course is not the real work.

The real work will get done in the future.

This is just what I am doing now.

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