Poetry Blog by Zach Dafoe

imagine doing the thankless job of rivets 

hold together, you beleaguered son of a bitch 

hold together, this heaving, creaking hull
this, sinking, stinking patchwork glory 
made at the end of so many stubbed cigars
held wet, by the mouth
while two busy hands 
idled towards retirement , pounding away 
christening by the light of midnight oils, annointed 
(10 in 1!) 
in the warbled so...

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the long and loping ache
of the seizing loop called 
Aorta 
crimped by a lifetime 
of sacrifice to the dogs
of electrochemistry: 
wrung beats from the feverish sweat
of bedmates and 
those kinds of friendships that die in shared smoke
Rising: fragile broken birds
whose abalone pieces remain
imprinted christmases on my blood 
trading one tether for another
to let loose and limp 
the w...

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 sitting
at the bottom
of a well

everything looks so small from down here.

as a close acquaintance to nothing
I can tell you that time is relative to
the steps I take towards a biological death
but not the wrath and reaping in-depth
well-lit and liked
by a narrow spoonful of silver moonlight.
were it so easy to call it
death
but down here time remains bereft

cobblestones worn smooth
...

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please don't talk to me about 
how all addicts should be put to death 
If you've never cracked the joke: 
"Ah, I've had two drinks. Now I'm finally sober. 
Now I'm finally me" 
and been right. 

;

please don't talk to me about those 

milk-fed good vibes 

and treat me like a tumor 

when my legs finally break from 

the weight of the world relieved by me 

doomed to glue-...

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a spiral of ribs 
detaching like plugs
splitting like looming nodes 
shredding red, tight ribbons 
with a snap only as audible as your mind allows. 

unplug, unplug, unplug 
unzip, all the way down 
spindles going slack 
slack and spooling, loosed, 
uncontrolled tensility 
A freefall.
to unravel all of what could've made me 
if it only had the strength 
to endure these crushing molar...

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the world will always be a terrible place if you decide what's coming out of my mouth before I say anything.

Before you even know my name , you've already decided who I am and the min max of what I have to say.

and then we don't even have a conversation, you just scry keywords and wait for your chance to talk.

it goes nowhere

and when it goes nowhere, you consider that a victory.

an...

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IT IS A DAMNING BLOODLESS TIME TO BE ALIVE AND IN LOVE
CHASTIZED
CIRCUMVENTING TURTLE DOVES
AT THE SPEED
OF WAR:
preface this
in a wake of what roves
what undulates beneath the wreaths of painted doors
in front of what should be a door step
a stoop
instead lays the view
from half way down
approaching the abyssal zone

and here we float
an echo in the deep
amongst echoes in the deep
...

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a couple moves into a house 
there's a bed in the basement. One of them cannot leave it -- there is a pleasant, numbing tiredness that keeps her there. There is an inexplicable weight. A presence and a draw, crushing gradually more and more tightly. The man feels it too. They lay together, crushed tighter and tighter. The woman has been in there for days. Her bones are crushed by the bodies of th...

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this old couch 
a rested place 
of day dreams :
A sanctum for the spittle of birds 
breaking in with the early dawn. 

and each window, in the winter 
a mouth of frost, 
vignettes of cold rolling thru the glass with ease 

i can feel my breath on my teeth
heating and cooling these tines
tuning truths on a good day 
hoping for just
 white lies on all the rest :
mild discomforts, acid...

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I knew someone that was all torn up about my having people comment on some of my works as a poet, tearfully saying "everyone loves you as you are."

well, no. 
Not everyone does. 
But Id like to think I appreciate the ones that do. 
And as I got older, my tools for sussing out who didn't got sharper 
or maybe im just a likeable person
or maybe I don't fixate on the parts of the world I cann...

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