The beach is covered in skin
and very little fabric
A light through which we all hurtle
Everyone’s a jerk
with my mouth
I’m angry and resentful and try
not to let that show but it shows
How much of reading, then, is just a kind of narcissism—a marker of who you were and what you were thinking when you encountered a text?
Cross dressed and contra-indicated.
Psychobiological necessity or character flaw
The death of cool
In my dreams, I knuckle walk
Take pictures of animals
During moments of silence I suck
in my gut
Carry my body wrong and thus am
in bodily pain
My dreams are warnings
not to dream Avian raptors
Little baby field mice spreading all the head lice
Justin Marks’ second book, You’re Going to Miss Me When You’re Bored, is forthcoming from Barrelhouse Books in Spring 2014. His first book is A Million in Prizes (New Issues, 2009), and his latest chapbooks are We Used to Have Parties (Dikembe Press, forthcoming) and Best Practices (Greying Ghost, 2013). Recent work has appeared in Denver Quarterly, Matter, Leveler Interrupture and similar::peaks. He is a co-founder of Birds, LLC, an independent poetry press, and lives in Queens, NY with his wife and their twin son and daughter.