there is one more poem that got cut, but adam robinson is going to publish and excerpt from the book on This PDF Chapbook and i want that poem to be like a bonus track thing.
here are the cut poems
we were driving down columbus ave to oregon ave and we were next to the train tracks and there was a single train only the engine and it was just sort of moving just ambling on down the tracks and i thought that would be a pretty great job to drive a single train engine down columbus all day and then further down there were these three cargo beds or whatever they're called and then we passed all of that and i didn't forget to look back on it i just didn't.
at night i wake up with the sheets soaking wet
“what are you talking about?” “what?” “just now. what were you saying? “saying?” “yes. saying.” “nothing. i wasn’t saying anything.” “oh. was i dreaming?” “yes. go back to sleep.” i tell myself it is time to go to sleep it is time to go to sleep it is time to go to sleep i am now asleep. the radiator is asleep the bed is asleep the dresser and all the clothes are asleep the stairs are asleep go to sleep she says. oh my god. right now.
brown ’n serve
in the morning i made waffles and sausages from the freezer. i re-heated them and made coffee. i was in my underwear and wanted to pull on my junk until it was a mile long. i had jeans over my shoulder and put them on. the sun should have been out, but it wasn’t. also the blinds were closed. i zipped my pants up, which was satisfying. a bird was whistling as i opened the blinds. while the coffee dripped i did several very deep stretches and then ate an apple.
your eyes are flashing like airplane lights
“i am at times terrified of you. of a rising violence in you, or your eyes growing large and you chasing me around the house with your arms stretched like the wings of a plane. and this terrible bleating sound coming from your mouth.” i was watching her sleep in the morning. i thought, my heart will break at any moment. i planned the escape route out with window with a sheet. or maybe like tapping her at several point on her face causing confusion and maybe momentary paralysis. i wouldn’t want to shoot her or do something that could not be undid. or rile her up any more. in theory. i feel like if you’re going to bring a gun into things then you’d better make sure they don’t ever get up, because i imagine that being shot would hurt, and make a person very angry and far less likely to have sex with you.
this outfit cannot possibly contain me
what do you mean she said. look i said look come on. outside. now we went out the front door me dragging her by the wrist as overhead several planes dropped a very large object directly in the street, destroying the young tree our landlord had planted and also some cars and a grill someone chained to their stoop she was very scared. she wanted me to hold her close. i was not expecting this although i made room for it in my plans i had made plans for this. for something like this. in my plans a whale is eaten by a bandit whole and then the bandit assumes the shape of a whale and it’s sort of gross and very stretchy and he lumbers down the street knocking over trees and cars, just swaying like when you eat way too much and have no real gyroscope inside you because a whale you ate just ate it and i would set the thing on fire and give it directions to the delaware river it just heads east. right now though i close the door.
when you finally broke my legs
the bandits are crying they have come out of hiding. but their tears dry instantly for they are a vast dessert. today it is cold and i am baking a pie. making the crust is certainly more work than i thought it would be. i hear a sound and turn. she is approaching me with a kerchief over her face and no pants. i do not know what to make of this. but she is approaching. her hands look like guns like cannons like a destructive force that is barely being contained. hey she said. hey i said. i am trying to bake a pie. she says nothing. i can hear her breathing. i want to make her cry to see if she is a desert. i cannot think of what to do. i just stand there.
used to be
i shot into the sky at the stars. i knew they weren't stars that they were planes and that i didn't really have a gun but it felt like something i had to do. as i walked back things seemed to lighten the less i thought about them. there was a long time to get things done. the planes were in the sky. fish were in their tanks, baseball was the national past time but i had little more to say on this. warm and cold fronts were moving right at each other.
on duty at the ammunition factory
“i had a dream that we were holed up in this old building made of stone, and that there were soldiers everywhere, and it all felt like chewing gum for way too long. it ended with you telling me you were not a fucking dead horse and i was not riding you any where any time, not in the marital bed, not into town, not no fucking way fucking how.” she gave me a look that i decided meant she'd had the same dream, and it too had touched her deeply, and in ways we couldn't yet talk about.
i saw god's shadow on this world
the sun came through the window and you could feel it. i was sitting in a wicker chair and that is how it felt. i was trying to hear the plants grow. i was making a face that reflected all of this and more. she said “stop that.” i wanted to tear her clothes off and leave it at that. my penis felt like it had frozen. overhead was the ceiling. downstairs the dryer was rumbling.
the great train robbery was over
what, she said. i said i thought all my fillings fell out and i was terrified. why, what did you dream about? she said she dreamed about the day when everybody understood everything, and how it was a lot like today except the news channels were all different. she said in this dream she saw wide open spaces with careful grass she saw clean bodies of water with pretty yellow ducks she saw tall buildings that weren’t too tall she saw friendly faces and horses everywhere. i said how were the dentists there. she said they were fantastic. i said that sounded pretty great. she said yes.
“my feet are cold” i said. but she was watching the tv and off thinking her own private thoughts. i thought how i would like to climb a tall mountain. i knew how i would like the take-out delivery man to get here faster. to get here more faster. more better. i would have liked more better insulation for my feet. my feet that were cold because i was not wearing shoes. she had slippers on. her feet were probably very warm. they were probably sweating. we were separated by a common distance, and that distance is represented here by one single couch cushion. hello and thank you.
sandbag the levies she said i said yes the levies. no i got the levy bit. ok i said. sandbag them. are there even any levies in philadelphia she said. i said there is the delaware. oh she said. yeah i said. i see she said. i know i said. the waffles popped from the toaster. i punched her right in the mouth. in my head. i thought about it. i seriously thought about it. i've never done it before. she looked at me funny. i could tell she knew i was repeating myself. i winced a little. oh come on she said. i said my tooth hurts. i thought about the last time i swept the kitchen, and decided against it.
i forgot about some of these poems completely.