1.


2.


3.

sitting on the foot of the bed,
I look up at the burnt-out
bulb above me
--superior life--it tells me
a light moment of irony
before I lay down
to sleep

here's to all the burnt-out
bulbs above us and
the rest we find
below them

i live in a brightness
of worlds
paper-thin

a screenshot of
malleability
introduces my reckoning

today, the serpent
lays hold of
the egg
and starvation
is kept at bay

belly full
cut the cord
the descendants
hang heavy

all my life i've wanted
a reason to
die well

tonight, I hear it
in the sirens...
I hear it
in the coyotes...
I hear it
in my soul...
tonight, I hear it
in plain sight--
as clear
as a daisy

i was allowed
to slow down

to see my life
in a different gear

to venture a guess
towards life in payment
of a different path

i was
hungry
and hung-up

i was held-up
with my pants
down

i was a man
living his life
in the modern
mouse-trap

and nobody
cares about the
man in the
modern
mouse-trap

forget about the
cheese...

find your way
own way
out

what are we
even doing?

I can't
promise you
anything

I'm leaving,
I have to
do this

I've never
been on my
own before
and I want to
see if I
can do it

I can't be what
you want
me to be

if it's meant
to be
it's meant
to be

I saw your
doppelgänger
at the bar
last night

it's not
that I don't want
to see you,
it's just that
I don't
have time

I would
say we should
grab a beer
and catch up
but
I'm only in
town for
a little bit
and my family
comes first

you could've
reached out
to me too
you know

you have
my number,
I don't
understand
why you
stopped
talking to me?

just thinking back
           on
my twenties and cracking
           a
smile for every tree I hollowed
           out
to make room for a new universe.


now,
in my thirties, I laugh at windows
           stacked
on top of Mercury's head as
           Venus covers her mouth and hides again.

there is a price to
authenticity that
most people
are not prepared
to pay

the cost
(at least in part)
is:
indifference,
isolation,
rejection, failure,
anxiety, madness,
etc.

it's vicious
strangers and
deadly lovers--
all of them
with spinning
flowers for
eyes as they
dig in: the
elbow, the
heel, the
knife

becoming who
you are demands
that you sacrifice
every inch of
what you
thought you
were to the
eternal flames

it means you're
gonna be hard
on yourself--harder
than anybody else
has ever been
on you

it means you're
gonna think
about killing
yourself
sometimes--you
may even come
close--

and,
make no
mistake, it
will be the
death of you
someday,
but
it will be
the best death
you could've
offered yourself

you will look
back upon
your life with
a cutting
smile and
piercing eyes
knowing that
you stayed
fighting

through every
cheap shot,
backstab, and
bad call

every
knockdown,
defeat, and
sabotage

you kept
coming, no
matter what
life threw at
you:
poverty,
shame,
guilt,
loss,
exile

these things
mean nothing
in the face
of true
becoming

and what
is becoming
if not
annihilation
and that
which remains
after its
totality?

stars align in
a blanket of
        future snow
dusting time's
plateau with
        a smear of
red paint across
the fallen angel's
        face shedding
tears in the naked
light from the
        hollow of a
mirrored heart
playing shadows
        like a work
of art

it's an expansive
drama of forgotten
         leagues keeping
memories in silence
between the ravines
         of what has and
what has yet. digital
ridges serrate the
         landscape of quiet
burdens borne by the
beings of beastly
         countenance
counting seven in
perpetuity in honor
        of the bell that
tolled so long ago now.

there is a low roar
bellowing from the
         womb of novelty
coming to upset the
balance bristling with
         charged particles
of transmutation and
flashing in a dance of
         lightning from
the void. born from
eternity to create in
         time those wildest
dreams from the
darkness of God's mind.