C h r i s C a m p a n i o n i —
{paul klee lives on}
fibre optic my ankles
& calves laid along the bed
of ocean repurposed
as concrete metal rubber
bitumen eat me through the phone
grind my mouth here
they call it fleischkultur
penny is to luck as . . . ?
softened by this full
length mirror
these plants I’ve been
asked to water
our newfound frenzy
to both bottom
paul klee lives on
my temporary
walls high ceilings &
windows your hand
has exigent
qualities the rain intruding
this afternoon catwalk
all the terraces in east berlin
my witness I heard poets
responsible for our
voices I can put on
a white accent too we face
time in the bunker
turned private collection
you ask about
“contemporary literature”
the violence of collage
she assures my meat
pounded thin
slow drip my favorite
sound 22 minutes
of motivational content
we came of age
in lieu of macintosh
I pick lingonberries
in the volkspark
prepare a flaming cake
for two my only
ambition to near
through form
as distance
upon every
trespass time
my gait to sync
the swelling
representation accumulate
my cookies
disappear the body
{ water running in place }
then we talked about
the role of proper names
in private texts
then we walked without
touching approximate
distance better
to amp what hauls
inside us each asking
the other (silently)
to conjure the sound
of water running in place
of a drawn
bath & let
what might be
become without committing
to an ossified presence
so that
is the thrill
& also the terror
let it expand unnaturally
let it grow warmer in ur mind
gripped by the deadened
complexion of computer
generated peaks
you speak in sales
bro ask me
to sweeten
the deal
my careful inventorying
of the day’s graces & violences
balls / cock / hip / asshole / nipple / neck / throat
the interval between
faces in a face
fuck: all we did
was sit here & talk
about the skins
of vegetables
indolently
singing—I’m a soft
& spotted
cow
hug me love me
all day long
wondering why tender meat
must be raised
in total darkness
how much & for how long
did I
leak
that day
how much & for how long
have we remained here entertaining
a plastic malleability
to make us
understand my aspirations
of a sur
face without depth
& behind the face to shape
nothing out
of something
so caress the softened
underbelly of what is hard
as the hip pictures
its own plodding
we cream unequally
{forever chemicals in our rainwater}
rendezvous inside frederick
the great’s beloved
“china room”
sometimes I require
great abandon not
everyone has an ass
fetish commodity
they read marx
“in the original”
my mustache trimmer
arrives posthaste
splice the meaning
of our hobbyhorse
do not go
gently into this
google hangout lay
the cutlery meant
for entertaining
now my scepter
should remain merely
curiosity an impulse
to reconstruct
typos in the second
edition such
a thing as forever
chemicals in our rainwater
we had lost all feeling
of time
.