I placed a jar in Tennessee,
And round it was, upon a hill.
It made the slovenly wilderness
Surround that hill.

The wilderness rose up to it,
And sprawled around, no longer wild.
The jar was round upon the ground
And tall and of a port in air.

It took dominion everywhere.
The jar was gray and bare.
It did not give of bird or bush,
Like nothing else in Tennessee.

I placed a jar in Tennessee,
And round it was, upon a hill.
It made the slovenly wilderness
Surround that hill.

The wilderness rose up to it,
And sprawled around, no longer wild.
The jar was round upon the ground
And tall and of a port in air.

It took dominion everywhere.
The jar was gray and bare.
It did not give of bird or bush,
Like nothing else in Tennessee.

Your eyes are like the stars
okay
Such crimson fabric strewn in waves
sure
I watch you dance in the night
alright
My dear, the universe is ours
not bad
Our love is a thunderstorm, you're an insideout umbrella
why not
Beauty thrills me, poetry kills me
of course
Your heart is a moon that no man's landed
could I get that one framed?
Our eyes dance, our lips take naps
yeah
Did I compare anything to stars yet?

Your fingers laced
in your blanket
I press it close, just to
know your scent
I adore
the family of gnomes
and
the jungle
of stuffed animals
parading about you
as you dance
and stretch
through countless books
of wizardry
or wonder
or Sigmund Freud's
interpretation of
dreams.
My dreams are
Quite translucent,
I dream of you.
I dream of the little things.
Your placid hands peeling
tangerines, or
swimming in a pool
of jelly beans.
I dream in memories
of us, like
the time I dropped you
on our first date
and we both sat there
laughing at how awful
and beautiful it was
on that mountain
underneath the smoggy
night sky

But here I lie
Awake
And so do you.

Make sure you write your poems
With a typewriter
on some
Archaic
Obscure
Unconventional
Peice of paper

The idea of depth
Is more important
Than what actually lies beneath

No
Fifty miles an hour
Is not fast enough
And neither are my thoughts
When you approach me
You change me

Let's adjust our mirrors

I question my identity
Around others
I was never fast in gym class
So I pass you in the fast lane
Please honk
Turn on your brights
I drove my car off a cliff
Just to write about it
The page is white

Let's switch lanes again

This pencil is writing me
It's a keyboard though
Be real
Nothing's actual
Just
Digital.

I tossed away decades
Of cassette tapes today
No one has the means to play them

My mind is a floppy disk
Outdated
Useless
A source of laughter
At me, not with

But it's still meaningful
I'm ranting
Check your blind spot

What was I...
Oh, yes!
Cars.

Cars are pretty nice
You can shift
Your identity into it

Which is fine
Just
Leave the top down

I slip on my cardboard
shoes, and slide
out of my
cardboard box
I walk
to the same corner
and hold that cardboard
sign

I watch
car after car
after car
after car

I am the master
of closed windows
and straight
awkward posture

I'm the problem
that isn't there
because you ignore it

I'm thankful for my long
nails to pick
sticky ashtray change
off the pavement

I put the change
in a small
cardboard jar
I found behind a warehouse

It's a very nice jar
it hold things together well
it is well crafted

sure

it is no glass jar
or diamond
or gold
but a jar just the same

and someone threw it
away