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{T R TIME T A L E Y LIT
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For / because of / Joshua Bolton
Two Small Vampires Dear heart, we ate snow today. Something happened to our country. These fearless peasants try and fight us. We make our way inside always. There is a certain shine in our loneliness. There is an evil in our gorgeous locks. We wish for the hearts to surface. They bring along such strange things. We are arming ourselves against humanity. Dear creatures, we found a way to monetize. Our life is all propaganda and vision. We now cannibalize the countryside. It is where the calm overtakes us. We think there was a whole village here. A long time ago we did chivalrous battles. We had enormous horses and chain mail. There were fields of goldenrod that took over. Its innocent powders clouded our motherland.
future}
Burn, Burn, Burn the Air I lined up my geese and sent them flying. Into a hot night I dribbled rounded pearlies off of lips. Upside down glass domes contracted weirdly, as if living. As if living was your choice anyway. Anyway, we went Walking. The galaxies tried to part us. We were then Pardoned for the war crimes. It was only after that we Lead them to the mass graves. With some gravitas we Dug for survivors. There were none, so they hanged us! They hanged us in the brightest spot of our youth. Before That we took guns and tried to stop them. There were many Invasions and they all came with chants.
{past
I Want To Lead All These Lives Someone is always screeching. In the distance husbands bring Home orange flowers. There is orange-flavored Ceylon and a Mysterious powder and the metal oven door. In this silence I made up things to say and then felt better. The things I let Float away into the past, I’m still thinking of you. I still love You. Hysteria is funny. It produces mountains that float by. Snow clings to the ground somewhere. Droughts happen. Nothing we have done really makes sense. Also, the most accurate Memories are ones we never access. I’ve accessed all of mine and Hacked them. I was the ice queen in first grade. I was the balloon Released a year earlier. I’m an electrical engineer. I was robbed In a stairwell. My gold teeth were pulled out. I suffered greatly And am still suffering. I keep having heart attacks out in the open. And it is not safe there, in front of all those people. I slapped my hand Away from my own chocolate cake. I scared myself in the dark And turned myself over and over. I said to some people, let me take you To the Promised Land, I rode a chariot, I grew a giant beard. It took me Months to trace myself back to myself. As I’m my own father and mother And all the geese that ever flew past your wide-open windows.
future}
I Love Those Stags I mounted the fake stag. This one had necklaces hanging on his antlers. I predicted he could actually hear me. I was tired. See, I had been blanching and icing all day. Also making delicately fried chicken. I provided cloth napkins for everyone. They all came over and we drank. Some said this was a happy moment. Some promised to never return. I mounted a cold fake animal in the night. The highway glittered out like real America racing in circles. Why, why, why did they all not go home? I provided chicken, napkins, opportunity—all of these things. Still, those crazy cold stags refused to leave. With a tender stomachache I pretended to dry heave into a bucket. This sent them galloping into the uncertain night.
{past
All The Missing Children Go To Florida We leave milk trails for them. Follow this milky trail and we will find you. We say, wait at the edge of the forest. We ask Florida To return them, but she is quiet. We yell louder and She turns over. The children are in her pockets. She Keeps changing the deadline. Florida says, Do not Bother me. I’m now a mother to your children. So we make a flotilla and attempt a sort of rescue. But the children taunt us from the branches. Look at our alligators, they say. Look at our rare orchids! Feel the stench of our Swamp hearts! They say these things, but are Probably lying. We make hot air balloons and Float over. We rest and wallow in the night. Florida holds on and we hold on. Time goes left and right and crushes things.
future}
Try A Little Time Travel Try it a bit, instead of sexing One night. Close your eyes, And think, Grandmother, I’m coming to you, live! Try it one hot night, With your eyes still closed, Open your mouth and think, Jesus, I would like to meet you. Cross over fields and tractors, Say hello to ancient England, And tear out a hair strand, This is your tether for returning. It feels like painting a larger picture, Here is your dead hamster, so sorry, Here is your old house, and here You are, lounging while the whole World battles an epidemic. You Are unaware, small in stature, This is good, this is time travel. Go outdoors and reclaim your {past
Hiding places. The you of the past Is still hiding there. Beware! Now, move on and go deeper, Perhaps you would like to kill Hitler. Or maybe he is your friend, Either way, no killing is allowed. Take care, remember not to stay out Too long. There have been some Negative consequences, but not any Bleeding and dementia, which is Nice and really a bonus. Take this time To really think about the future and if You could change it would you. Would You do it all over again. Report back what lessons you learned from This experience, if any. Personally, I learned: I was not evil, Fjords made a screeching sound when formed, G-d is not vengeful, My uncle smothered someone in an open field.
future}
To All My Babies Babies, forgive me. I’ve let you all go without asking anything. You walked out the back door and nothing. I looked for you But very briefly. Instead I hammered in some loose nails. Babies, I’m so glad you chose me. And the times we spent together, they Were something. Well, I know you did not feel very loved here. And that is really okay, my babies. But I’m sorry for losing you In the haystacks, and for making nasty breakfast. Babies, do not Fret about anything. I think you are much safer wherever you are. Wherever you wind up, babies, forget me and my hot body. Forget our pool, babies. Forget what you heard, babies. Forget My smell, babies. You left here at a good time. Nothing else Is ever going to happen. This town keeps building over itself And soon no old building will be here. Babies, go west. Pick a Direction and go there. Keep turning left if you get stuck in A corn maze. Stay in the woods, babies. I have a good feeling About this.
{past
Red Currant / Black Currant My mother hurries a dress across the ocean, like I am a wild Boar bride tearing open for a big gown. Chasms are blooming. It is time to unfreeze the meals, and heat the home. But I want to go back in time and not be so terrible. I want to confront the former me and the former you. I could give warning: things do not end well. So now there are articles about the near extinct penguin And polar bear. There are grainy shots of the Tasmanian tiger Pacing behind a fence. Perhaps I should go warn him instead. Look, the stupid birds are flying in a v formation, headed right into Our fireworks. Right into our celebratory rum and punch, And our carved pineapple. Let us never make photos of this or our wedding, or our birth, Or anything that happens after or before. Photos are small reminders Of how we cannot time travel. We cannot go back to warn or forward To see how it all turned out.
future}
Trudy, If You Come Back Trudy, today I took out the garbage. The leaves called out to me, the trees Whined as always. When you left The buzz saws stopped forever. The house stinks of rotting cherries. There are pounds of them, sagging. I found your old bathing suit and Wore it proudly. I made you Baked Alaska and it was terrible. I fixed the radio and hung ropes around The house. Trudy, the cherries are still Rotting, getting blacker by the hour. In their stink I’m understanding our Stink, your stink, the whole of it. On the radio I found out: Gray whales are becoming people-friendly, People continue to break our borders, There is certainly going to be another attack, One day, sun rays will finally blow us all up. Trudy, today I sawed off perfect cubes of Frozen beef for you. I made a pot roast, the Cherries yelled out, kids from the neighborhood Kept ringing the doorbells. I put on your Bathing suit. I finished dinner. I ran out there To tell them all you were on your way, to get Into the house, to help me look for all those People, churches, potluck dinners that we went to. Then it was dawn and I was sleeping on that hill. Small garden snakes surrounded me, I shouted {past
Your name into a canyon. Trudy, they will never Believe you went jogging and then called from The train station. Today I thought about this and Fixed a crisp salad, eggs in aspic, endives with Chopped walnuts. I ate these things and thought Of you, out there, wherever you are, probably Florida, probably some place not placid. I Wonder if you miss the roar of the tractors In your ear, or chopping down wheat by hand. I don’t miss anything anymore. The cherries had Little babies the other day. Mini red ones that I Take care of. I’m now a grandfather, Trudy. I’m Sending my grandcherries to college and taking Them out on the town. It seems like we are all Finally realizing things, making important Decisions, and we are doing it all without you.
future}
Oregon Is All Water The death canoe contrasts the quiet lakes. You are smothering me. Literally, with a pillow. I spent last night choking you. Before that You hid in the closet with a small axe. You chopped at me. I bit your Ribs last Wednesday. I attacked you with a hammer. You blasted Back with a homemade firebomb. I scalped you old-school style. You snuck up with a lethal punch to the temple. Oregon is unfolding All around. The monster trees, who knows what they are hiding. What crazy beasts live in the solid woods? This is the place of deep Vacation. We are moving closer to insane nature. It is moving Through us. I’m plowing this land down to the bone, to the place Where stench comes from. Verdant and cataclysmic. I’m in the place Of small plane crashes and hatchets. I’m pretty sure we are going to Battle back out of this place.
{past
Get Out Of Here, Ghost All those days were real. Before hunting season We met on the courts, in manicured gardens, Next to man-made water. This whole time I Was deep sleeping. I was packing the dirt in And being happy. Looking inside a python I saw Two tracts of digestion. Outside. Outside is An obvious danger. Gun and killer kind. At Night they come in and we battle them back Out. Get out of here. Get going with your Pitchforks. In wedding season we talk Colors. We talk delicate and scalloped. How it is only human to have the fontanel. Yes, make an ancient signal to carry over All the sides of the ocean. If no, send creepy Letters to your most annoying friends. Be A mistress, or a lost sister coming back. future}
I Had This Hair When My Dad Was Alive Both alive and in Poland. Under heavy rain we kept walking. Twenty-eight years ago things were so different. Remember, you were all so special. It was hard to find boots and stockings. Instead you found galoshes, rubber diapers. Old, old country, you are the grave’s keeper. ……………………………………………….. I’m from a sturgeon’s lung. I’m cut out and breathing. The weather is changing languages. All over, the equinox is taking away power. Different weird clouds keep forming. Darling things come in twos! Foreign foghorns keep sounding. In your city the police are absolutely corrupted. Farm animals are finally getting to eat succulent grasses. The portable invisible typewriter is suspended in space. This hair is authentic fox fur. Coffins are so tiny after dark! Toxic sludge has made its way into the heartland! Everyone is sharing photos of their babies. The waiter will not bring me my own juice box. I keep stopping by eerie restaurants. The car lost a wheel just as I pulled up. The first snow fell and I’m angry! This man is having a seizure on the elliptical. My family is incognito. {past
In the cover of night men are sneaking into windows. Parking lots are full of unwanted baggage. Your new friends are much better than me. All over the world people are being birthed. Our grandmothers can no longer see too far! She’s exaggerating her stupid pain. The proboscis stunned me into silence. We thought your name would be Vladimir. My television is resting on a teeny tiny stand. This music is from Swan Lake! My mucus is coming up yellow. The outdoor patio is really a lanai. The youngest child is always the prettiest. This wedding is full of cancer-causing sugar! In a past life I was someone really crazy. The steroids are starting to wear off. This trench coat smells of urine. I’ve shopped with your baby. The raccoon traps are howling!
future}
Jesus Shows Inside His Flesh Jesus shows inside his flesh. He is airy marbles and we are All looking at his un-pain. We are following the bubbles of His misery. He says, Wait here, And we listen. Put our ears on Him and hum. Then we do a Chant together before dispersing. We are moving out to the old barn And hunting for something wild. Roses spurt from our organs and it Is a registered kind of pain. We do not Use scales here. Only float in water Hoping the really giant fish ignore our Heat. The burble of wheels is astonishing, So we hide from the wagons and ships And look for other ways to disappear. We stalk foxholes and rabbit holes and climb Into nests with our mouths hanging open And a delirious weeping almost overtakes us. In the beginning we missed things, but not now. Now we are gaping open and cutting bark From some of the more sinister trees.
{past
Aristotle In a tundra space I’m conserving energy With my rice rations. Which tundra? Where are you? Why are you so humpbacked? Hunting destroys lives. Spears flying, you Are not loving on animals. You are not Rubbing their fur. I’m forgetting more Than you. I’m foraging more than you. This body Accepts things over and over. Like those Triplets growing at the same time. But after Thanksgiving, abortion seems rational. All that warmth, all that holiday. No wonder People drive into severe blizzards. I hope your breast milk aids In the survival of my hypothermia.
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Many Many Years Later The children we presumed dead rushed into all the houses. Soon after, major automobile accident fatalities trotted into view. Dead parents sent us thick letters. Executed killers sheepishly slunk around. Frail grandmothers called all day long. Never-born babies popped out of fruit trees and cried and cried. The world could not take it but it tried.
{past
The Terrible Mistake One thousand years from now our brains will connect. We will laugh about things. How we fought on our Mexican vacation. How we beat each other’s faces in Germany. How we walked around old frozen countries. You got sad watching films about young soldiers. Then we swam in polluted water. There were factories exploding all around us. There was an oceanic festival and a tan Poseidon. There were these mermaids bobbing in and out of the water. And then the whales came. And we flew on planes going in all directions with all our moments and thoughts intersecting over and over and over.
future}
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