Dina and Dan Give Them What They Are Owed

Keats returns. He sits pensively.

What happens is

There are the dinosaurs

The dinosaurs from his youth

Around the terrain of his lonely days

Their tiny claws picking dog bones from their teeth

The seasons' clouds disappear and sun from her ears falls out like a sound

Unhearing itself

Who is she?

The girl acting like his sister is his sister

Crowns of fire from the number of crowns of trees

Visible in the window when he takes her to bed

What happens is

This is not autumn

He says I have returned

But his ghost is waiting for him at the top of the stairs

My goal is to get a haircut at some point

She starts crying

One goes and one returns to where the previous was

This is what he returns to

The reason there are dinosaurs if you will, 

To watch dinosaurs, and why he

Of all people

From this perch

Wishes there were more dinosaurs

In the bed with them, their parents shudder

And this is what we are doing

Wishes where he is able to enjoy the maximum of sunshine

The way his thoughts go, as a steam, disappearing

His sister removes her socks and says

I can't feel my face

The rest of what he sees in this ancient setting

He will have to figure out, as if urging forward

His sister standing in the mouth of a cave into which he must go

To discover himself

Though he is afraid

For there to be anymore of it here, for us, so to speak

Likening ourselves in its being figured out

In the process of us becoming ourselves

For instance the toads and his sister in the garden, realer than the garden

Cooling her breasts with pearl combs and fleshy flowers

Or she wears his hair in a forgetting fashion

Stands on the promenade in the latest fashion

Forgetting that he is addicted to making things up about them

Taking therapeutic baths

When they go out with their parents

He wears on the head of this two headed child this forgetting

Her love now wobbly in his mouth he pulls it out

Like a hair in his soup

In his mouth, an affinity for all possible teeth

Keats what king on the hill deduces a tongue in his mouth

Were you to usurp the land of his youth with your tongue

Or spoil the soup with piano keys

Chalking this up to the chalk

And this big green field in which dinosaurs roll

He looks out on, as from the window

Of a result he has yet to reckon

I am not sure what gushes but it is the color of silver

There is moss on Mount Sentinel, gorse and sage

There is glass scattered on the sidewalk of Atlanta

In which you can see yourself

But is it fitness, that is, one going well with the other

So like the hills, for this is a hilly site
From which he stole his genius

Gave it back momentarily like fire

Through our tears, dear sister, or it is by our tears

We see the land as a principle of the unseen

To mourn our ugly losses, and tally,

And after taking flowers, the apparentness of the results

And after taking

All but the face emerging from the perhaps not intelligent picture

Of a thing operating like a wind on the hot coal of the other

But if you get to the top of the heap because

You understand through and through what it means

Then fine, reserve a seat for me beside yourself

Because I've heard every word you've ever said

Whenever you've been beside yourself.

Keats forgets the night’s purpose or knows and decides not to

As too strong for happiness, all young men do so

Or too ambivalent, all young men who get

And what burdens are the family and the chords that chill 

Sometimes it feels like I've been

Hammered into the ground

But often it's the opposite

Every sense is strange, equivocal

It's like I'm not here, not in this terrain

All is wind swept

Far down flying from everyone else who knocks

Extinction of the entire surface

All dissolves in thin water

The compulsory question

Can you hear me now

The subatomic mass of what you do not say

Is shaped like the possible shapes of bones

For animals

Repeating can you, we must

Ride one another with baby oil

Or there are too many

Dinosaurs to overcome this limitation

Of having mentioned

What nuances, endless nuances,

I can't even leave the bed. O I'm always

Crying mommy o o o

The night is black murk with its delicate stars, my laziness

Makes me cry, black murk

The joke played on us all, my sister

Stop it, little man! Youre a snitch in a police state

He stole my clothes

He took my PS3

Thinking will not move

The law nor the prior facts of itself

Nor unhide your purpose here!

Heart surgery

That's the order, here,

Be here of all places

And be for all the faults

What it will not say of itself

This region where everyone is born lucky

And you know damn well no one will speak

For what doesn’t belong to them

The buildings grope along the sky

Until tumbling, the sunlight fixes

Its target, we are encountered streaming out of movies

Which one haven’t we seen?  

The one where your picture is at the station?

Recall it then, dear sister

Are there jobs to be done?

What war will we wage? Today, it pays

O morning, awoke to ripen the fruits of my muscles…

I feel like a white rifle! I feel weak!

Everyone else is getting what has to be

The fragrance of car parts—

What the hell? What time is it? No, no—

Not to jail. I regret my power to charm.

Not assassination. Bolt me to the floor.

Come on this isn't fair. I know already,

The world isn't, I know, I know

That is the American thing to do