I Remember Every Day of My Life (So Far)

It has been the same two minute song for an hour 
what it does is teenaging

A youth killing which orbits the twenties 
you remember

the cincture of knowing the pattern barely 
laying on their lawns with disputes

Spotify menacing the silence with silence

Walking by those places—sheen proximities 
How even illumined I feel I have the whole night

Number 7

What is felt is a semblance of thought 
you have paused for in the turning of your lights

There is a rainbow on your tongue as there has been on mine 
Glistening nothing

You lift with your data and breathe with your fan 
& this is forever lasting

You’ve taken my novelties with you, 
my marshmallow desktop

I’ll never remember if my hair has always been parted this way

Trespass and Symmetry

The acorn dons the buffalos cupule
prying as a force this

lantern cuittled to texturize the nook
furrowing a great crop of sasquatch

wearing t-shirts with no pants on

looking at you from their living room
walking in the middle of their street

minding your business with their car
and maybe their polenta or electric nail filers

Running would cut through the crickets
blow through fm radio transmissions

Random sex and candy
Running would make you suspicious


The gelid namazu does not smudge in crystals of corydalis 
or juniper, pollia condensate

It cannot be found in the soil sifted Earth 
extracted from coiling hair

Patience for its name when it is seen first cut into the day 
a tinge of the freshest slice

An opening that gives you choices 
depth, range, and verbiage

For this setting we’ll call you Mr. Bresheare 
and every day Mr. Bresheare

Kris Hall is a writer and event coordinator for Ogopogo and Da'daedal from Seattle, WA. Author of the chapbooks Dillinger on the Beach (Horse Less Press) and Notes for Xenos Vesparum (Shotgun Wedding). He has been featured in The Monarch Review, Pismire, and The EEEL.