SELECTIONS from COLLECTIONS / by D.M. Jerman

From This Ink For Hire-

Ode to the Beer Distributor-

your-
siren song neon
never a promise
but close. (not as close as my guitar.)

The static wednesday
begs you out
'til after nine.

Have this drink is
light this match is
invite the neighbor over (you've never met.)

I will go to you,
soon-

your-
boys by the window
(my parents + their
cheap case you
might recall)
trading in cash
for evenly
doled out, dressed up
suds.
Making the grade for bars,
for cigarettes.
-

Music comes
mumbled thru the walls.
as my neighbor moves
about his furniture.

This house creaks
but his step is not
light.

The combined result
is thudding,
pounding.
not desperate
but naughty.
-

the woman is
busy
like a phone call
busy
like a loaf of bread
busy like spanish
or a condition
of the head.
-

(on)
tape on
tape
on tape,
recorded recordings.
-

I will not see you today,
tomorrow will become today, and
I will not see you today.
-

The muse came into the room
To the artist she said:
Burn it.
Burn everything.
Burn completely.
It was then that the artist came into the room.
-


From Natural Formations-

4.
Burnt letter ash
to take off your
cigarettes,
you new car
smell lungs.
Rain in the path
of ink.
Stains pages.
Water washed thru
water thru
nicotine teeth.

Now say one
thing very well
like a loquacious
photograph.

Permit and reuse
like a campfire sound
Illuminate same
corners lost to light.

A lovely nothing is
the air.
As weightless and
as present
as time.


5.
Virginity as
autograph

parents away the
backyard
pulled her head
out of her t-shirt.

stillness
does not remove
a violet swatch
of make up
from a trap of
grass.

Let's start with
the dreams of
what you don't
know.

Stir in
chocolate
gasoline
accordion
milk truck driver.
old paper sidewalks
french letters,
the drums played
themselves.

So here's summer
season with our
chessboard, miracles
when we twist together.