Where I’m from
the cat gets disowned for her curiosity,
but not before a lengthy trial
a litany of pejoratives
testament to synonyms.

Where I’m from
the persecution does not end
until the pyre has been built,
a verdict conceived of perceived faults and failures.

Where I’m from
singularity is superfluous.
You’re only as good as the clarity and carats
of boulder you shoulder with a Colgate Smile.


…


Where I’m from
I will be publishing
under pseudonym:
a witness to individuality in need of protection.

tangent lines
stretching
searching for our function

'the derivative of instantaneous change'
a solution for the epidemic that is loneliness.

He does not bring a ring.

Nor lilies,

but doom.

A gift
to hang around your neck,
a notarized noose of possessive vernacular.

There's no one to save here.
All there is left is truth,

                                                                   the past is rotting in the future
                                                                   while my war torn psyche
                                                                   waves its white flag-

8 yards out
6 feet under

unearth the skeletons
line them up for show and tell

the one with a smile
like sunburn on a foggy day

the one whose words
left me with permanent tinnitus

the one
who floundered at my my feet
begging to get in
only to find my waters too deep

                                                           ­                                     and you.

shame is a garment of sorrow
threatening to rattle our equilibrium

pre-solstice jitters
bereft of an altitude

loves lisp
resting on forgotten forevers

                                                          who wants a life like that?

the hapless half-life of our limerence
hemorrhaging hope in the waiting room

                           “take a seat”

      “the doctor will be with you shortly”

chart up my insides

luminescent display of shortcomings.

                                                  ­                  


                            reasons you'll find to walk...

the purple-yellow bruising on my heart
refuses to heal.

behind every unlocked door I find
a brick wall.

Your airport refused to check my baggage.

So here I am
stranded in an empty terminal
clutching a dead phone

waiting

to speak to a manager that went home ages ago.