books, and other smells

there was a not so long ago, i
would never have believed in
touch-screens

to think! all of this was a living
once rememberthat when you’re
thumbing between jackets

trees is the eventuality we are
becoming — – vegetable&natural
hard with words

&stories every untold will be
painted on the walls of a rediscovered
history understood

&librarieslibrarieslibraries
where)men with groomed&wild looks, sit
elbow to elbow

in the stacks with time

© Emerys Watchel, 2020 All rights reserved.

what survives

i begin always on paper
with pencil
then transcribed
my bookshelf is a museum of madness
older than X yrs

-wonder if any of it will be discovered
like Dickenson
after she passed, her family
packingup things
whole drawers full of notes lost
before somebody decided to read

them
all that we have now is what

survived

© Emerys Watchel, 2020 All rights reserved.

the process

caught by the middle-distance
a mote(? a memory

does dust remember

thinking’s pained expression)a thought!
roaming the pejorative
– – – hunting sinewy context

all eyebrows&something define-ably extraneous

then the madness of jumping apropos
arrives; a poet

© Emerys Watchel, 2020 All rights reserved.

unlikely Hero

idea-saturated economies

overwhelmed internal mechanism

capricious emotional response
i think i’m ready
to disappear

seriously dreaming

where was i going
to be
in all of this(?

too much
&battling that wagered statement
:a “giving up”

knowing i will rise again to kill
the despot, feed him&
twart the revolitionary.This

is My tail-chasing circle

© Emerys Watchel, 2020 All rights reserved.

from the parapet

in defense of misfortune
argue obvious
foundations of sand

do this; make ready
the sacrifice
&defend

-there will be nothing
spoken of victory in
either event

a gainless memorial
of choice holding a doorway

© Emerys Watchel, 2020 All rights reserved.

qu’est-ce que c’est?

when there are nomore
tomorrow’s
&every available lie has been
let
,like so many balloons(
a d r i f t & )
neighbourhoods&neighbourhoodsbetween
a you, a me there

forgetting faces
it will come

that dreamed of day when
all collisions
have of sacrifice a little breathing
wish”
i would say, “wishing has (we knew
the dangers of that place
had hooks
been cast
still
into that torment go and grew

for a somewhere Sun
that
never sets

© Emerys Watchel, 2019 All rights reserved.

out

out in to it all
thinly float

see for yourself,
words
spelled on a dream
‘s shore

“let it go

a lie is all you keep
this, and this&nothing

follow me

soon the common-kind
will you endure

le sacre du

© Emerys Watchel, 2019 All rights reserved.

skin2skin

&so you come in
flourishing gestures as your

familiar impressions retreat
to an internal architecture while

on the surface !)alive
with irritated projections

looking but finding only glimpses, i
respond inspiring calm

as is why you came with your disguises
that i(practicing love), disarm

© Emerys Watchel, 2019 All rights reserved.

catharsis

wreckage is stories
:a collection of&
mangled into unfinished
snips
arranged,shattered reattached

now mass unrecognizable
from origin

the sore edges sting
forever
forever until
a compression gooily lumps the former
to a new digestible

by whichever can adopt
absorb

re-purpose

© Emerys Watchel, 2019 All rights reserved.

triumph

every odyssey begins with
an idea of Self; golden’d in final aquisition
of that so-desired object

spurred by curiosity’s guile,
and rudderless whim, or bitten
by pangs of longing

,or either; adventure’s
thrust upon the unwilling, or contented
to a folly of mischief

in either event a prevailing thought
will emerge
that of home, or of glory

it is not God(or Gods)that reward
this tenacity

it is with tenebral persistence that we
shape dream out of failure

© Emerys Watchel, 2019 All rights reserved.

giddying little sorrow

for any of this(these)to be
more
than just impermanence
onedesire must, above all others glow
more
brilliantly

That! the light by which we guide
our instrument
That! future to which we cast
our(near&wanting)-selves

for fantasy be.made.real
(more)
This! or less;that vessels girded
with semi-precious wishes, only

and minor victories of chance-value
-a lusterless trinket
),be

© Emerys Watchel, 2019 All rights reserved.

Onward,

&by imagining each disaster
possible,each
changing detail

can we
trace an accuracy of steps
back to our present
fumbling navigations

keeping sacred our virtues,and silent
ward against the wildness

purest drop of remedy white
singular.magic
mute
before a cacophonous sea
of other droplets

© Emerys Watchel, 2019 All rights reserved.

heart

she said”you arewhat you
are.” to a stunned, i
well
if this is true then every-
thing.every fought-for
refused for, insisted on(lengthened tooth&
&wordsexchangedinanger(instantly-grayed for
defending
thing, a:

forgettable transform
of clumsy origami, or

easily now so distant
looking upon

ignorant curls of dust
remembered differently&
by no one

© Emerys Watchel, 2019 All rights reserved.

Fleisch

eclipsed by the consuming
waters
the once proud seafarer submits
to eternal
inevitability

endowed
by the hands that made her
with every enchantment, and superstition
in foreknowing the navigable mysterious
ahead and on all sides

by the belief in her radiance, guided
and fell

fodder for invaders

© Emerys Watchel, 2019 All rights reserved.

abuse

is as i have suspected
:an interruption,a
course correction”
love- even when well-meant is
it would hurt
me
to see you (fumble&stumble about
so.much.so that i must
interject myself into your
logical spheres
tying unconnected ends together&
sweeping up unnecessaries

) )there)

all is arranged according to my
designimperfect
listen, beloved

© Emerys Watchel, 2019 All rights reserved.

Give

of exhaustible thought energy
self
ish
ly
even as we never think of our selves
as self “ish”
,or that we give without expecting transactional
return

which is a lie

the moment when natural growth was
inhibited by civilization’s prudence,
the simplicity of the animal kingdom
had been lost

© Emerys Watchel, 2019 All rights reserved.

asleep, routine

…exigencies
,or perhaps the Great Procrastinator in
me shirks demand i have
difficulty relating to
what Webster’s defines as
“pressing need”

this is a hunger, i think
a situation calling for immediate action

routinely asleep
and dreaming better Unicorns

© Emerys Watchel, 2019 All rights reserved.

&

because the essence of human existence
should be liquified in metaphor
that
Time’s immutable drum be deafened
song and story be

and language

© Emerys Watchel, 2019 All rights reserved.

the truth about artificial intelligence

do you remember when i
‘d call you up
&we’d talk for hours&the con
-versation w’ld be about nothing
specific
one

of us w’ld be folding laundry or
a familiar song w’ld play in the background
there
‘d be that reminiscing on a word
soundslike touching laughter

whom forinstance said
i told you how much i was moved
that you would bother to come
through that wilderness

with me
after
all”

© Emerys Watchel, 2019 All rights reserved.

her body

despite
attempts to hide it
she needs
almost presumably, beyond
recognizable flaws
to be seen -less than un-attainable
more than
simply human

;desired.
with even her detached appreciation
for what could be described as
imprisonment

within,

© Emerys Watchel, 2019 All rights reserved.

the

around, and around
wanderingwaiting for
dark that comes like a
closing door

there is a name
other than any spoken there
time will tell clicking&
spilling its lightlong wall
and descending stair

it comes in grasps
cold and catching
thinly fitting the weight of breath
all on a spun
and tumble scratching
for a scream

unbutton Night’s suffocating let
air in and
starry
the nauseating senses

circle repeats around
and around withoutrelief:

in the corner an addict chokes
on a tongue&a
fox chases one relentless tail

© Emerys Watchel, 2018 All rights reserved.

to have

you always knew,didn’t-
we had said
it many times so ghostly
as cold winter mountains
shadows stretching to meet almost
and never quite songs
in echoes a deep forest calling
and listening

you
when first clouds parted and metaphors
stuck weightless like dandelion spores
and time stopped and snow fell
in a moment all
was auburn and chestnut
good
bye’s
knew always didn’t

this moment right here)this room
now
i’ve seen before

that’s how
whoever we were hurts more
to hold

© Emerys Watchel, 2018 All rights reserved.

barefoot in the yard

i
adore cemeteries though
seldom speak
of them outside of metaphors

or
trying to preserve the features
of her memory
in a country house
delicates on the laundryline
cat
licking songbird from its paws
belly sun warmed
in the grass

attic full of empty boxes stuffed
with forgetting, do you imagine
as i do
she humms to herself
a thing like a rhyme
remembered
barefoot
in the yard

between the clothespegs
there
in all the textures of
an instant

without fading

© Emerys Watchel, 2018 All rights reserved.

hello

hello happens with a fold
in space
i see myself in a future
minute
near enough for touching
to be held
by you, “Hello,”

and everything seems to still
a moment theorized by time
-travellers(our unity
has deleted past-possibles
,and created
new-probabilities)

romance,
in an instant twines its roots
around our bodies
the surrender and the resistance
is a force
mistaken for fate
if but to conclude:
an irrational reality has
within it actual consequence

then your two feet, and mine,
have stumbled
getting here (in that each stumble was)
an unseen fortune
waiting to present itself
as our steps finally
met

reliving the new, and wonderfully-new
is as human an event as anything
but all the clocks are ticking
time will arrive
with differential speed
the dreaming done it must be
decided (by every name including
relationship) where

going with this are we
now as two
with the world at a doorstep

© Emerys Watchel, 2018 All rights reserved.

there

there will be a panic
a mystery unresolved, pain
tugging at threads of the

unseen. a fear of going
beyond the border of return
there will be doors

of moments, windows of interaction
closing opening, or
the reverse is not a guarantee

you will be tested. the end
will event itself in an
obvious fashion. made clear when

time will allow a retrospective view.
there will be an emptiness
to be filled, a wound

replaced. an addiction
in the form of an escape. there
will be lies, you will tell

them to
yourself

© Emerys Watchel, 2018 All rights reserved.

thought opression

entryway opens with a
bing
the anti-theft scanners
are always there
silent sentry. every
loophole has been accounted for
cameras monitor activity

the subjects stare. in defense
of personal space
some talk out loud
their private wars with
personal oppressors
and
are considered crazy
most do this in their heads

the cashier has an anxious way
of making conversation
is everybody traumatized?
forget
it
just
get what you can while it’s on sale
& try not to think too much
about

freedom

© Emerys Watchel, 2018 All rights reserved.

yours

if i fall apart now
it is be
-cause the pieces
that i cut off

are Mine to choose

is
what i wanted to say
iswhat i told myself i’dsay
if
saw you again

isn’t true. can’t lie won’t
not even to spare this

or these
wish they were

yours

© Emerys Watchel, 2018 All rights reserved.

shared

for a little bit of meat
pot boiled rice
a green-hearted vegetable

i would trade this un-fed body
dance, my white-bellied dance
naked as a moonbeam

for an encore of bread crust
recite fire-side incanto’s
of ancient magical property

for a moment let the dragons in my mind
spread their wings that yours
may give colour and receive them

for the prospect of a recognition
eyes and eyes locked, lost
in the portals between possibility

i would trade this self of mine
an idea kept, longer than needed
if one, a you, could see yours completely

hinge this starving tired
to the slow rising stomach of a breath
following shared dreams

© Emerys Watchel, 2018 All rights reserved.

still want

remember always a some
thing wanted, I
what that was or changeschange)s
less now
older
but
then ask
what
am i doing in this room
?
still

excuses to personsuit&walk
my wear
streets of people imitating self
for a dreamer un-dreamed
see-
king an un-initiate to def
-lower
barter over cost the best
parts of anatomy my
most alluring
brain
i hope,pants

off.conversation terribly feel
s a streetfight like drag
-ged backalleyscared words.my
words
talking/acting never
come out, come across
shame to meet
an
awkward IDK
what is a man expected
to, why

i love have loved met love
can cry
remember connected being a
he&she
hair on pillow mused skin
perfumed delicate thin
-gs.sounds.
&eyes!
how cld i forget ?ever
staring back
at mine or trying not
to smile

she am now have not me
i do
again and want to

try

© Emerys Watchel, 2018 All rights reserved.

make again

when found begins
freshthumb explored dis
-covered naval

all within alight with
eyes and probes sear
-ching New &nothingNew&
dies

creator then decides

let inhabit whisper
-ing,ghosts(or make
again of tumblestuff
alive

© Emerys Watchel, 2018 All rights reserved.

anthropoids

i’m already over it itwas
day(s)ago,but
since you asked

this guy(this
that seems altogether charming,al
-together singular
he,he)is
a potato

agreeing on the wise
against inclination
not disagreeable
of a sort that
mind’s his own mind

to be liked,or thought like
-able he wants(wants&
that inthat should not
give trust
completely

to he(he)you
are an opponent

to be absorbed
&mimicked,

mannerism copied,tone&gesture&
philosophical persuasion
you(poor little you)will
see a likeminded, he(he) will
earn what he did not
work for

friend

© Emerys Watchel, 2018 All rights reserved.

damages

carpet stains
a hallway full of doors
smells like police tape
and torture for
entertainment
get ready the internet is waiting

news report draws attention to violence
support the underdog victims
of society
with fetishist sex analogues
navigating bondage
“**** did what **** could to stay alive”
interviewed neighbours detail
a history of behaviour

arranging
sympathetic dialogue
consistent with the ephemera of the scene
organised material
“had *** ***** in common” between
bookends and bath towel superstition
disembodied souls meant to be
transformed

nevermind the limp unfettered laughter
remembered true as sunbeams intimately held
auburn and chestnut spoons
willingly
in a naked fire

backed up against the wall
challenged to respond for sport
react defend, entertain the ignoble
pushed to the point of attacking everything
animals
keep nothing sacred

been here before, be here again
it was always and never supposed to be like
this

© Emerys Watchel, 2018 All rights reserved.

Glass Castles

there have always been moments
when the clouds break
always the feel of pavement
and temperamental skies

always a hopeful thought
for rainbows
,like legends passed down
from ancient days

always the pangs of loss
and joy in acquiring things anew
glass castles though they are
and wandering from heart to heart

only as real as transient desire

© Emerys Watchel, 2018 All rights reserved.

us or them

wasn’t difficult to say
it means more now to hear
once those three words first trembled

i watched
and a mouth moved to speak them
a face waited to hear them returned

this is the excitement what follows
a struggle to keep them first,
and last

everything was happening as it should
and never occurred that we
were acting out roles

,man and woman, trying
a simple knot to keep
what was invented for us to maintain

© Emerys Watchel, 2018 All rights reserved.

All of Us

who was the dog laughing
in the nightjars of pollen
trumpeting designs
up at windows

who wore the silks and sang
the shifting sky
into swell for the frogspore
and glister’d jelly

who at the thorned table
ate the goatskull of betrayed
for the low ruin of carnivals
desecrated mind strewn for feedhawks

who with the pocked-eye gleaned
this facile-verse a viper
lamprey mouth trying its jaws
on the equator

who in the suits of hightown
slurped his soup with pretend mimes
feeling the tingle of camaraderie
ejected for jesting trite confessional

who was told the parables
of squarepegs and roundholes
applied this earnest learning
foundered nothing and resentment

who attempted return
to animal kinskin dreaming utopias
only to walk a loneward shuffle
among the tenements of perversion

who trumpeted designs
up at the jars of windows
in the dognight
laughing pollen

© Emerys Watchel, 2018 All rights reserved.

Giant

i first met you
in a late adolescent
vision spun for dreamyhead
a presence of tormenting
this
the future me would reflect on
curious

no name, until i named you
Mine
on those summer nights
when the sun crept low,
and long
following your skirt pleats
up that staircase
you cast a subtle glance
over your shoulder i ignored
tranced
by the revealing
and disappearing shock
of panty white cotton
up the dusty slant-light
and intermittent shade

you smelled of danger
and uneclipsable knowledge
the things you knew
destroyed
with a sublimating transform
held in your powerful talons
though you kept the secret of flight
i was a giant
in the momentary magic
there transferred

imagine
the continents crushed between my toes
the worlds created between my thumb
and forefinger
tracing close breath
a warm line
of saliva wet mouth
squeeze and nibble
with a naturalness we didn’t learn
in books

i was bitten by a curse
to pursue
this moment again
in others
as a prototype reenacted
and those stories ended the same
with an inclination to hate you
but
i only see my giddy self
chasing fictions
with a time-worn net

© Emerys Watchel, 2018 All rights reserved.

a naïve and dying thing

i remember the distant
sounds of coughing
ears going in
,and out
mind ws’in ajar thrown
to a hy
-drogen maze

arms lank at my sides
palms turned up
head tilted deep breaths
walking
like fall
ing
somehow i found my way
home
to bed. last night’s reverie
a fragmented remembrance
never to return
complete

cornflakes. milk 1%
crispy
in the yellow morning clean
bowl
spoon
sink
breakfast puzzl
_______________es
fuck, __________ ?
i must be living in someone else’s
house

© Emerys Watchel, 2018 All rights reserved.

,or just another retreat

wen it isn’t you
i run to
a retreet i set the table for
habitually
magic circles can be found
in
ev’rything
“this is the way we- -wash our hands
comb our teeth
brush our hair”
this is the way humanitee builds monUments
i’m making light of yr’ situation
and how could i not
when you give me that look, like
the factual world has no place
for esoteric wizardry?
i am waht i eat
and i’ve had my fill of universes

© Emerys Watchel, 2018 All rights reserved.

exist to be discovered

love,
a Well dried of deep
dark water, thirsty
hollow
screaming wind
enough to drink whole uni-
verses
bestial
ravening mad-want
see
the desert stretched beyond horizons
see the sun-drenched spectacle of death
the vortex is all around
feel
the heat rise, choking its way inside
fight
with fresh red lung meat
inhale
consciousness
is not long for this.
consume. the mercy of illness
compels
divide
apply concerned determination
to the vertical leap
and strike when the moment is
rich with metaphorical compositions

it will return
it will exist to be discovered
always

she will cut the pearl of her warmth
and mend her sorrow
with your flesh
if it would only keep you

and
can it
satisfy
?

© Emerys Watchel, 2018 All rights reserved.

Valdez’s Donkey

i adore the scent
of her bloom
it’s a presence that remains
after her spidery thing
of love
it makes the ridiculousness of
her profile
more endearing
tho
when
(as she does)
troop in pallet, after pallet
after pallet
a serrated line of antique
intricacy
aimed at me, and sets the walls
of her moat afire
that ridiculousness is less so,
and more-so
endearing

her, with reinforced walls
and unassailable
phantoms
wait
for me to parley
to approach silver armored,
pearl horsed, raised white flag
and present a token of trust
:her tincture
unwashed from the nape
of my waist

and this is insanity, i insist
in cold-rooms
wrapped in her web
…madness”
then a trumpet sounds
in the courtyard
and once more i
am evicted
to brave a storm
co-created

,out to the desolate border
turn
hungry, reinvigorated
sword ready

© Emerys Watchel, 2018 All rights reserved.

casual

gobble up the vegetables
placate the stomach
percolate with television
thumb rubbing gut

groan, complain
it’s casual, expected
body language to explain
you’re over-fed

nevermind Churchill
standing at the bulwark
watching the bombers
from below

nevermind Stonewall’s amputated arm
shot by an ally
a devastating loss

change the channel
there’s nothing on
overpriced cable tv dying medium
in the internet age

pay the bills
gas up the car
clip the coupons, complain
it’s casual, expected

© Emerys Watchel, 2018 All rights reserved.

living together

& that’s what we’ll do
cut the body up
portion out meat for each-
other to chew
i’ll work on this
you work on that
take a piece of kidney
lung
leave me the heart
and we’ll work our way up
to the eyes and brain
naming each bit as we go
ignore the spirit
it has no body
and we can finish
sit down
cross our legs
and make war with other
beasts

© Emerys Watchel, 2018 All rights reserved.

Preen

i
hate the way you
preen, not un-like
a freshly tongue-bathed cat
yawns and droops a heavy head
momentarily regal
admired beyond the audience
in front of a sun-warmed
vacant window

or, a gargoyle
crookedly crouching
scowling a monotone
of un-spoken words
tension
in the wrists of shoulders
chin pointed
out
with a curse

or, dappled
sleepy in your morning
flowerbed
smelling of spring pollen
and sex, rolling naked
on your side
thigh, over thigh
hands searching thin-air
for a huggable pillow
while
you mewl out vowels
,and sigh feeling lusty
yes, you know
without looking
– you are adored

wicked thing

© Emerys Watchel, 2018 All rights reserved.

voir dire

never, and never my love flown far
and near
wades in the gristle’d glade
of goose gone lakes afire
in teeth of the jawbone hungry damned
eat, and eat they sworl
in the shark-blood torrent finned
thirst for the de-flowered fuse,
and die

her lust-light charms
attract
the snake-head poison grown
they wield the sword, mere claimants
to the stone-cold throne
inspired
for no gold they own, but the glint
of the eyes of liars
ever, and ever my love flown arrow
and bow

© Emerys Watchel, 2018 All rights reserved.