Three thousand feet up! Up the side of Mount Crumpit,

He rode to the tiptop to dump it!

"Pooh-pooh to the Whos!" he was grinch-ish-ly humming.

"They're finding out now that no Christmas is coming!

"They're just waking up! I know just what they'll do!

"Their mouths will hang open a minute or two

"All the Whos down in Who-ville will all cry BOO-HOO!"...



At the top of the mountain he untied his dog

From the sleigh. And the valley was filling with fog

As thick as the Who Hash he'd grinched just before.

He chuckled with glee at what was in store.

Now the Grinch grabbed the sacks from the top of the sleigh,

And with a mighty "HEAVE **!" he shoved them away.

The bags filled with toys well they weaved and they shook

With the weight of the things he so sneakily took.

Until finally momentum made things far less slow.

They fell 3000 feet to the jagged rocks below.

A sickening crunch and several sharp cries

At first startled the Grinch but caused him to realize

When he stole from the Whos down in Whoville his pride

Had gotten the best of him; he'd thrown some children inside.

He giggled maliciously, grabbed his dog Max

And got back in the sleigh, for he couldn't relax.

He had to go back, for his job wasn't done.

All the Whos down in Whoville, every last one

Every man, every woman, every daughter and son

Would be dead in their beds by the dawn of the sun.

The trip down Mount Crumpit was faster than up

As he growled to himself, "where's that ***** with the cup?"

He jumped off the sleigh, machete in hand

And marched straight into Whoville, whose gates could not stand

For the rage made him strong. How he hated the Whos

With their **** cheesy smiles, and their dumb pointy shoes,

Turned up noses and pigtails and hideous songs,

THE SONGS, THE SONGS, HOW HE HATED THE SONGS.

And now he'd make sure that the Whos sang no more...

At Cindy Lou Who's house he kicked down the door

And strode into the bedroom of Cindy Lou Who.

She woke with a start, murmured "Santa? That you?"

The Grinch, with a sneer, grabbed Lou Who by the hair,

****** her out of bed seven feet in the air,

And with two sharp knives pinned her arms to the wall.

Her screams roused her parents just down the hall.

They ran to their child to save her from harm.

The mistake that they made cost them each their right arm.

Writhing on the floor in their own ****** mess,

They looked at the Grinch in a state of distress.

"Why would you do this?" they managed to hurl,

"Please, you can **** us, just not our little girl!"

He listened to their pleas with a wry little smile,

He patiently heard them, then after a while,

He cut out their tongues with another sharp knife,

First of the husband, and then of the wife.

Then he turned to young Cindy with glee,

And hissed in her ear, "you'll do something for me..."

Cindy shook her head violently, but to no avail,

For the Grinch had the tongues on a rusty old nail.

He shoved them down her gullet. She started to choke,

Then she finally died, for the rusty nail broke.

He stepped over the body of mother Lou Who,

And the Grinch slithered over to house #2.

With this house he made quick work of the Whos.

He set them on fire to cure them of the "blues."

The blaze that resulted would spread down the street,

Drawing Whos from their houses like flies to dead meat.

A grenade waited for them in center of town.

A click, then a boom mowed, like, half of them down.

The other half attempted a weak attack.

With a Type-67 the Grinch kept them back.

The little Who children could do nothing but stare

In open-mouthed horror as the Grinch, without care,

Shot them down one by one till the snow was stained red,

And he would not stop firing till they were all dead.



And as the sun rose oe'r the grisly scene,

The Grinch drenched in blood of adult, child, and teen,

With a pentagram smack in the center of town,

And the tree in the middle would slowly burn down.

With the scalps of the Whos down in Whoville in hand,

The Grinch called his dog Max, who could barely stand

Because he was violently shaking in shock.

He could not even whimper, let alone walk.

Not a Who was left standing, not a song to be heard,

Save for that of a single Who bird

Which was quickly snuffed out by a single pistol round.

And after that there was not a sound.

The Grinch, his work finished, got back in the sleigh,

Cracked the whip over Max, and slithered away.

The last thing the poor town of Whoville would hear:

"If there's anyone left, well, I'll come back next year!"

Dream knelt beside Reality
And
Brought her back to life
and Reality opened her eyes
and looked into Dream's
And suddenly
Dream came true
and Reality loved Dream
and Dream loved Reality
and they became heaven.

They'll get their powers back
by tomorrow morning
and unfreeze the well
to save the water
because they had to carry in snow
and melt it.

i found you in the ocean
                                                                                   your eyes treading water
                                                                                       your hair lost gold
swimming out to sea
                                                                                        turning back once
                                                                                        to beckon me onward
i swam until my arms were too tired to move and
when i looked back i could no longer see the shore
                                                                                         you were waiting
and you broke me apart with your words
i nodded
breathless from the wound and exhaustion
my head turning toward the sky
and slipping below the waves
i watched the creatures of the deep glide by
seeing clearer than ever before
you put me together with your lips
and met me at the ocean floor

pale sickness
you're white as a sheet

draining illness
your clammy white skin
rots

deathly light
the diseased white sun will bleach your bones
after the doves pick them clean

sickly white
your cracked teeth clatter out of your skull
dominos in a dead white jar


trembling hands the color of spoiling milk
carefully cradle an almost translucent infant
mother and child
both far too weak to feed

the only thing that grows here is decay
white mold thrives on your hoarded white bread
while outside the safety of the white picket fence
there is not a single soul who does not
recognize the white of an unburied skeleton
under a full moon

I can see into the 5 minute future
It's not even six o'clock
Music defines time
I'm furious for not knowing this before
Your name sobers
Me in a different
Way than getting
Sober
Does
Different from this control freak
I am compelled to write this for you
I love you I LOVE YOU
more than Germany
Loves you more than anyone
Loves you falling
Razor sides moves to the
Rings there's still liquid
In it I don't know
All I know is
I shouldn't be this sorry

scent carries the strongest memories
and when i smell the smoke of
a distant wildfire
i remember you

i hear sirens
and remember the song of you calling to me
– tempting me with your promise –
but by the name that would have crashed me into the rocks
had i let it live

i taste salt and blood
whiskey and water
ash
and lust
i had thought my palate cleansed
yet the flavor remains in my throat

when i dream about you, i often wake unsure whether i am drenched in my own sweat or yours
sometimes i can still feel the strength of your hands
around my neck
around my thighs
sometimes i can still feel your body along with my own
i wonder if you still think about me when you touch yourself

scent carries the strongest memories
and when i smell the smoke of a
distant wildfire
i remember you

i freeze over
when i attempt to visualize giving myself
even an ounce of compassion

i would have to consider myself worthy
worthy of kindness
worthy of love
worthy of a home
worthy of life

i do not remember when i last felt i deserved compassion

it may have been when i was young
my foolish heart believed in the body for which it beat
until it broke
and broke
and broke

i am told i wear wisdom well
as if wisdom is a new coat that i tried on
instead of ancient scars under the fresh fabric

i did not choose
this

i plead with my reflection
even though we are both holding a knife
please
let me live
let me rest

but the villain lunges, slashing wildly, drawing blood
a hit
a palpable hit

Burn, freeze, sanitize
my hands
So they'll forget how yours feel
Cleanse my skin again and again
And maybe I won't remember
How soft you were in my arms
Lobotomize my brain, please
So I can forget who you are to me
Then maybe a smile
will appear on my cracked lips
And I will
lose you
to that beautiful new world

You can't see them
but I can
They're everywhere
Your fingers just traced eight of them
Unnoticed by you
but not me
I count them every day
even though
you can't see them

Everything stops when I see the            blur
hear the low, vibrating                                 buzz
                                                       RIGHT IN MY EAR
Flinch
spasm
FREEZE

My muscles
every last one
tense and rigid

                                         Don't
                                          Move
        ­                                    An
                        ­                         Inch
My head snaps to my shoulder
My hands fly to my neck
                                   my signature tic
protect my ears protect my head
or the monster
the horror
                               the bee
will fly into my skull and-


I feel its legs                covered in short fibrous tendrils oh god no

scuttling inside my head an itch I can't scratch

a whimper lodges in my throat
                               threatens to turn into a

SCREAM

-into my brain

the blur flashes by
as sweat     r
                      o
                          l
           ­                 l
                              s
down my back
MY SKIN IS BURNING EVERYTHING IS BURNING
the wasp in my head is
STINGING ME EVERYWHERE AT ONCE
Tears sting
Arms sting
everything stings

***** this phobia!

you hold me under the water
until my lungs scream out for air
you know i cannot hold my breath forever,
don't you?

you hold me under the water
in a perverse baptism
the one i worship delivers me to death

you hold me under the water
one hand buried in my hair
the other firmly on my neck
i have no choice but to choke

you hold me under the water
and i do not struggle to break from your grip
you were always stronger than me
and a part of me has always wanted this

you hold me under the water
and fill my mouth with the sea
i swallow, even as i know
to drink is to die

you hold me under the water
gently, as a lover would
it won't be long now
before i become one with the ocean

i am aware that you are speaking to me
but i cannot hear you over the crashing of the waves
when your work is finished and you wade away
there will be no blood on your hands

i remember again why i hate the summer as the jeep jostles on the bumpy dirt road to the river

my shorts ride up over my knees and i have to keep my hands splayed over my thighs so you won't see the godawful things i carved into them years ago

the music blares and skips like my heartbeat does when we hit a pothole and you go flying into me

you laugh, leaning against my shoulder like it's nothing to you

i laugh, the heat of the day creeping into my face because you're everything to me

i stammer out something dry and everyone laughs

you look at me, the glitter of the sun against the river quite clear in your eyes and in your smile

you tell me you smile with your eyes and i believe you

i adjust my sunglasses for the third time but by the time we arrive in a cloud of dust and laughter the sun is already behind the tree lined mountains

It gets better
he said soothingly
And he wasn't the first to say it
nor-I think-will he be the last
but it was the first time
I believed it if only for a moment
Take your time, he assured me
And in a world of
rush rush rush
Those words alone made sense to me
and as we stood and smiled I felt hope flicker to life
at least for a moment

i lift my shoulders and hunch my back
don't look at me don't look at me don't look at me
walking faster, heart racing, i feel the presence getting closer
leave me alone leave me alone leave me alone
i break into a futile sprint

it's not as though i can speak
tell it to leave my sight
tell it i have nothing left for it to take
hope it believes me
while i shove the final page of my story deeper into my pocket

i know better than to lie to this thing
my legs are growing heavy as i try to outpace it
but it's no use
an experienced hunter, the creature waits for me to exhaust myself running from it, then moves in for the ****
at least there, i have the last laugh-
i have already died from fear

my eyes, too blind from the light of hell to see
pray for you to choke the blasphemy out of me

ave maria, gratia plena, dominus tecum. benedicta tu in mulieribus, et benedictus fructus ventris tui, iesus. sancta maria, mater dei, ora pro nobis peccatoribus, nunc, et in hora mortis nostrae

you misread my plea and loosen your holy grip
and more sins spill from my ****** lips

ave maria, gratia plena, dominus tecum. benedicta tu in mulieribus, et benedictus fructus ventris tui, iesus. sancta maria, mater dei, ora pro nobis peccatoribus, nunc, et in hora mortis nostrae

my tongue is heavy with heresy
but still i babble hypocrisy

ave maria, gratia plena, dominus tecum. benedicta tu in mulieribus, et benedictus fructus ventris tui, iesus. sancta maria, mater dei, ora pro nobis peccatoribus, nunc, et in hora mortis nostrae

amen

Recycled noise
eyes litter the floor
Consciousness murmurs day by day
We don't know where home is and
we're okay with that
It'll be okay
Our feet are cold
Our body awake
Our mind rested and ready to lapse into memory waves
Signs of anchored wisdom and prophecy
A black screen of mindfulness on my hands
blue shells clatter to the floor
The heat of the weapon warms my feet
We aren't tired, are we?
Our heads are too heavy
We risk stretching our legs
And the blood rushes back in
We're tempted to bathe
We're tempted to relay our dreams
It is hard to deny these
Yet it isn't
Our writing becomes large when we have this joy
we have no struggle
no shortage of peace

the clippers buzz a drone against my skull
the hair falls like dead flies
into the sink and onto the floor
loose curls crawl down my shoulders and back
tickling my neck

afterwards i stare hard into the mirror
searching my own face
for someone i  could love
or at the very least live with

there is no color for regret
this fist of hindsight clenched in my stomach
sitting heavy, firm and uneasy

i can't paint over this lingering, wholesome sorrow
splashed in my lamentable eyes

the agony is blind and cannot feel its way out of this dark corridor
the uneasiness is more real than the feeler

repentance is stuck in my teeth and gnaws at my tongue
discomfort catches its fingernails on the chalkboard recesses of the past

regret

regret

the neon open sign flickers and its fumes are toxic

bubbling, boiling, the ****** acid sizzles
my insides like water hissing as it turns to steam
helpless against the fury of a forest fire
it chars my throat,
tears springing to my eyes

i can taste the salt on my face
but all i see is red

mirthless laughter echoes
the way black coal smoke billows
from the smoke stacks of my
lungs

the searing heat of hatred
irritates the skin on my wrists
i scratch and scratch and scratch
until the skin is raw
until the skin is broken
until the skin hangs off the bone
i feel nothing but the rage

giving me strength
giving me focus
giving me calm

the lava rises, shrieking,
into my eyes,
pouring from my ears and nostrils,
seethes between my clenched teeth and sealed lips

my breathing
even, deep,
matches the rumble of the cracking earth

and from its core more fire comes
evaporating the tears on my cheeks
the blood on my arms
the rain from the very sky

my mouth mechanically moves
wouldyoulikeabaghereisyourreceiptthankyousomuchforcominginh­aveaniceday
i wonder how many times i have said the same sentence in the last half hour
as those recycled, rearranged letters
squeak, tired, from the middle of my throat
a laugh, fake, tense, comes from my nose
as i feel what little soul there was in me to begin with
die
this can't be it
this can't be all there is
the helpless thoughts slide sluggishly by
what is the point of surviving so much
when this is all i have to look forward to?

She is her own island
A porcelain memory with
tendrils twisting through the brutally
polite obsession of her few inhabitants
She fancies herself abandoned-laughable!
Doomed daffodils embroider themselves into her hair and
frame her cold hands, pale arms
(mortared, mistranslated) scars
fingernails like moons slaughter foreigners
and petrify
the flea ridden.

feeling small is sacred
when my head rests against Your warm chest
and i can hear Your heartbeat slow
as You begin to fall asleep in my arms

feeling small is sacred
when i feel Your lips against my forehead
Your warm hands cradling my face
Your smile against my cheek

feeling small is sacred
when i see Your eyes, illuminated by the warm morning sun coming in through Your bedroom window
not only the brilliant colors
but the depth of the soul within as well

feeling small is sacred
when i hear my own name in Your mouth
it sounds worthy of the warm love with which You pronounced it
and i almost want to ask You to say it again
just so i can hear it

when one is cared for
when one is held
when one is loved
the way You have me
feeling small is sacred

if i do not tend to my wounds they will become infected
inflamed, red, hot to the touch
rotting and dripping with pus

i know this, and still i let them fester
refusing to remove the soiled bandages because i know it will hurt
even though i am no stranger to pain

eventually the sickness will infect my blood
spread to the rest of my body and brain
maybe it will **** me
but i will not hold my breath

i have survived wounds like this before
i have the scars to prove it
i have no choice but to heal
and try again

i think about the songs i wish i could write about you
deep and sweeping words that would compare your eyes to the sky and your laugh to starlight
compare the curves of your body to the most breathtaking places in the world and every childhood story you've told me to yards of silk folded and stored reverently in the attic of my head, on the shelf closest to my eyes so i'll remember them always
but then i remember that
these verses tied to your wrists with delicate, translucent chords
while they may make the tide trace currents in the lines in your face
they will not make your heart collide with mine

I see red
Of course she is red

                                                                A fire I do not dare to grasp
                                                                But oh, do I dream

Not mine
Of course not mine

                                                                This much is customary
                                                                 I'm used to that

Beautiful, and full of joy
                                                                It's always this way
                                                                Why is it always this way?
                                                                She must not know
                                                                I have to tell her
                                                                But do I?
That sweetness
I will never have