Dusty Neu

from Idiots

 

I is after
I & slowly &
without

current, pool
expo, or boat
show. His many

years and
twenty acre
hands

handy in helping those in
need. A pencil to
use, for us

to get on with
ourselves. Getting on
I'm often asleep

in the back seat——
often all the way
asleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                 "To get
                 on with ourselves," said

                 Leander,

                 mine man in the
                 Pacific War. He
                 drank his

                 cheek bone, 
                 two ribs, 
                 his

                 bed, he
                 occurred in
                 bags like

                 families on a trip. I
                 sleep all
                 the way there.

                 There's a man
                 after my own
                 legs.

 

 

 
 

Stop now or
the next
day. May

stoops over me
at all my
blessings; a

light jacket, mild
aches. Can
change my

look, move away to
a reptile farm. Two
plates meet

at the northern
end of the
lake near a horse farm

and form a
ridge for the
fog to come over at night.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

& if an
opportunity comes
to knock on a body

I'll do it as
it comes. But for a few in

block houses,

in bed, private; to
avoid shooters, 
I'd gladly pay

my way more. Graphic
realities, country of
arms &

my brother; it's a lot
of love for him
to swerve into a ditch.

Last year I was
in terrible pain &
I can't remember why.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                  Field elm, island oak, 
                  live oak, almond, alder, 
                  sycamore, laurel,

                  I'm so trees! So
                  no direct relief
                  for me,

                  light irregular
                  geology of
                  the north country

                  (not mini golf, etc.) sinks
                  too my feeling.
                  My apologies to

                  orchard bees, sick
                  fathers, and horse
                  breeders;

                  the valley's light
                  objects instead of

                  slash-and-burn or insecticides. 

 

Dusty Neu is a poet and translator born and raised in rural California with an MFA from Brown University. He co-translated Alessandro de Francesco's Remote Vision from the Italian (Punctum Books) and his poetry has appeared in VOLT, Pear Noir!, and 3am. He lives and works in Rhode Island.