I don't know how I woke up next to your body & a wall of PBR but I guess I'll stick around for a while


we fucked daniel johnston into our heads

all rumble bodies/ devil hands

idling clutch, a hard turn

to curl & choke

catch skin/ my teeth

spit & suck back before it hits floor,

load me up ready, to do it all again.


what is love what is love what is love if

not handing endless quarters

to feed pinball through my body

all pbr/ whiskey & attack from mars!

have I dreamt these movements

from golden ether, unidentified objects

pending in chest/ dents that fill me full

machine, your hands held out to turn me

rhythm into skin

against your hands/ a captive ball.


what if what if what if love

was the moments between

matter/ the movement found while

careening space, that

sweet hot gasp of breath

before collision, metal clang kinetic

that transfer between

two daring bodies

lost & settling for heat

when there's nothing left to do?


C.M. Keehl lives in Grand Rapids, Michigan