Ryan Mills

Three Poems

Aych Brick

in memory of Thomas B. Hutchins

The biscuit cut (an esssssss in there somewhere)
an imprint of a shoe and
left the Epoch in a golf cart
with his own feet. Please

no ok no ok no ok no ok
these are the dreams and rather shave
the beard than tend to it but the bathroom!
It’s full of things Unscented
hairspray fresh burst Listerine (deeper)
the Hand Soap! the toilet
Paper!

A queue or a sea (in which pees thrice)
and the pretzel flower shrine
in a Finnish room (the old castle)
Gee! he wrote one weird salon sign.

He looks like a “why” the cigarette butts(?)
and letters. Treated plywood saved,
your life was sunburned again.

A very small fire hydrant
uproots Aych Brick. He misses his old lover!
Until Ten, Every person is like “Every” person
Smoking. Under naked trees on the abandoned floodplain
it is April but it is February.

And This Fly On My Knuckle

Although I enter
You walk on.

We both go home.

I could hike,
you must.

The walk is towards here or there.

And this fly on my knuckle
is love in the world.

I Will Flush the Toilet

The men in my family are giants;
We walk into the bathroom & apologize
for our human Nature
all the while loving you.
There are things that lie on the ground
& it’s really common to use toilet paper
in this land, the thing is
I sit here wanting to hear my own voice.
It’s terrible, know
neither of us want to call one
another, there’s just no love around:
everywhere might as well be
the same as here.

I had almost forgotten how fun it is to turn the corner & see Lichtenstein’s Brushstrokes & just love it, oh I love that sculpture & the park blocks & the buildings & the people but I will address Mr. Lichtenstein by his first name (Roy) & bring him back to life! I will raise the dead!
but anyways, it can be fun again! I kind of like a little fun maybe a dash of excrement; maybe a bottle of Afrin in a nostril or a Very Muscular Dog. Lately I hadn’t considered the joy or those other anti-downer things. It can be easy to get SERIOUS!
I want this & that & I don’t want to cry anymore tonight but I just will & I won’t flush a thing because MY ears hurt so bad from hearing so much crying. Then I go outside & it’s cold out but I keep thinking about what to put in the toilet so I’m warm & Jolly! Jolly! Truly Jolly! & Isn’t that what it’s all about!? Yeah! It is! But then my father calls to ask me to flush a thing for his dead Dad’s funeral party & it just becomes awful. Again. Truly awful & no more being Jolly. (frown)

I have flushed the toilet
& the Very Muscular Dog waits;
it can be easy to get serious!
but I hear there are Giant Octopus
in these waters.
My infatuation is dumb
in a specific way
oh but perhaps back to Roy:
You have to watch the world

Stay the same, still don’t follow.