off with the heads
of the heads of the states
out of the houses
and into the streets
no borders
no nations
no more exploitation
no starvation wages
or indoctrination
abolish all prisons
put kops out of jobs
an end to these prisms
and liberal facades
tired of lies from people in power
drag the bourgeois out their ivory towers
tear down the walls
dismantle the systems
answer the calls
don't act like you missed them
the time is now
the place is here
no hesitation
no more of this fear
the time to fight is now

palates and platelets
pallets and plates

mind and matter
brain and body

float me down the river
with the sun far from falling

---

desert fog
shiphorns blow in the distance

melting tundra
poke holes in the old maps

winds that blow between your toes
and stir undying shivers into quiet pines

you stood and spoke
like the women before had
and i felt it coming

you approached the front
and rising up in me
the stammering, wilting pain

you laid it out for the room
not even half your horrors
and i just wanted to die for you

because i would
selfish as it would be
the clichéd fatal love

We talk of our failures
past present and future
We forget to acknowledge

what you say he always says
the longest way round
is the shortest way home

i am afraid of
heights and
the buzzing in my head
the unacknowledged cravings
the thirst that drenches the flame
the words that you might say
that begin a whole new spiral
into a different circle that before
was just that craving, teasing
its way around the back of my mind
the tip of my tongue
the length of my everything
the depth of my nothing
the cravings that circle
with razor sharp teeth
and i read about those
with voices and christian parents
and know that i will never be
that which fascinates
whatever it is that lies inside

the  echoes rose up
from mouth to top
the ringing that reached
through a viscous darkness

the underwater dusk
wet and open
seeking to rest
or be banished

curious but
somehow busy
always fading
from light

i
am
going
to

it's hard
to know
who what
when where

why is never
close why is
the elusive it
that sweats through

i no longer write
for anyone but the
person that started writing
then slowly disappeared as

my fingers kept
tapping and i
lost sight of
the why that

i could
never have

a slave to wordiness, verbosity
self referential
(poems where sparsity lays the heart raw
something to thump against
our mouths and hands
little parts of ourselves
sadness is the only understanding).
cut, copy, paste
everything is lost, rediscovered
conduits are the building blocks
within the building blocks
contradictions of rationality.
everything is connected
drifting.
not machines
not of this world.