Autism
does not simply exist

on a spectrum

We
are not a limited range

Autistic Experience and
Autistic Expression
coexist

across an infinitely expanding sphere

We are bathing existence
itself

in the very light

omni-present and
omni-persisting

within us

has torn your book
redstained spine
scarred sand-
paper palm
passage
revised

and
dogeared

I'm now well into my thirties, which is to say
I'm too old to be stumbling in the dark
Too young to be measuring by touch
The depth of these scars or
Predicting their long-term effects on
Short-term sorrows

Immeasurable goals

But I can see just fine, thanks
My eyes adjusted years ago and
I'll rip those shades
When I'm ******* ready

Poring over months-old words
Losing will and time to count
Embellishing every syllable
Coughing up the spaces
Choking on the lines
All the same lines
Fooling no one

Well
Maybe one

Sixes and sevens
Mark new beginnings
The after-burn is bittersweet
A full rose moon lights my way
Maybe after
When the breathing's done
I can pretend
To sleep

Spoken word video of my poem "Ever Changing"

https://youtu.be/Ry-d2vvO1ZE

Spoken word video of my poem "Ecstatic"

https://youtu.be/FUjUcq4FK5g

People are always describing their dreams as crazy.
I had this crazy dream last night, they say.
I think all they really mean is the dream is still fresh in their mind;
crazy means vivid; crazy means I'm going to describe to you my dream as if I believe that it's only a dream but I expect you to tell me what you think it means.

Most of my dreams aren't that crazy, but I did have this really crazy dream the other night.
I was running through a long tunnel; you were there and so was Edward Norton.

We (not Norton, he comes later) were running, hand in hand, like the guy and girl do in those predictable action-thrillers.
It was dim and loud and voices echoed off the tunnel walls and back at us, upon us, like when we were in Atlanta and the sky opened up.

We were running; everybody was running and people were screaming and I had to **** and up ahead were men in black suits and black sunglasses with black AR-10s and they were shooting and people were dropping and I told you to run but you were scared, and it was too late; they were upon us.

They yelled and waved their guns and we did what we were told.
They divided us into two rows, each facing the other.
They were screaming and demanding and firing and people were dropping and I really had to **** and they were looking for a man.
They were looking for Norton and I could point him out and I had to **** but I really liked him in Fight Club and apparently my moral compass was still intact.

So I kept my mouth shut and so did you and and so did Norton and when I awoke the room was cold and dark but I was on a mission.

At dinner with his father
In reflexive response to the worry
Of his sister's relationship and
Its eminent failure:

"Well, most relationships end prematurely"

He hadn't meant it
He'd meant "her" relationships
Not "most"

But he'd been divorced
And so had both of his parents
And several of their friends
And both of his aunts
And his friend
And her friend
And his former boss
And a neighbor
And a barber
And this random guy at the bar
And now another friend--

Being alone when you know
What it's like to not be
Has a way of warping your perspective

Or maybe they were right after all

Maybe his optimism was only skin deep

I've noticed
There is a slight
  Indention
In the middle of my right little finger
From the one-handed way I hold
My phone
I wonder if
It's permanent

You and me, lost
In a sea of unnamed faces
And now it seems we're back
In these sub-familiar places

And so, hand in hand
We travel light
This path is dim but
I can see the light
Is burning brighter
Above these walls, they tower
Beyond our narrowed sight

Still, steady gains
Perhaps nearing shore
This fight for more light, like the
Fire that's still burning
So deep within our core
Will never, ever falter, despite
Our fright, this creeping suspicion
We've been here before

"State Line"

Downpour

The torrential kind
In which
You forget
Through overexposure
What it feels like
To see color

Yet remember
Everything else

Clarity in flashes

The earth spills
Its daily struggles
And I bottle mine

---

"Welcome to Earth"

Condensed
Supersaturated

Breaching and scorching
This tortured sky

Will Smith is too expensive
To save us now

---

"A Thousand Words"

In the storm
Shadows and highlights
Are nonsensical terms

Indistinguishable

Black level, high
Contrast, immeasurable
Noise, present

---

"Peripheral"

Push it
Go as fast as you like
I'll take my time
And watch you spin
Out of control
Just outside
The point of
No return

---

"Patience"

Accuse me
Again and again
Convince me I'm wrong

I'll hurl my innocence
Into the storm

Wait for it
It's coming back

---

"Double Down"

That isn't light
At the end of the tunnel
It's just less dark

Double down
It's not over yet

---

"Joy"

Persistent color
Through the fog
Shrek on wheels
Snoopy on ice
They pass and
We follow

---

"Crossing Over"

There is a pain
That comes after

In the relief

In the recuperated vision
An aching remnant of
Stolen senses

You almost miss it

---

"Recovery"

Dreams resurface
Broken
Sparse
Waist-deep in white noise
A melody identifiable as my own

Crickets chirp
Incessant
Ironic
Soaked in stagnant thought
A denotation of the passing storm

I can't remember the code
To get in

Normally it's not a problem

Numbers are like puzzle pieces
To me

Seven and three
Three and fourteen

Fives are blue and
Tens are black

They all just fit

Magnetically
Charged and begging
For togetherness

And understanding

Like the eagle understands gravity
And thrives on it

Despite resenting
Its usefulness

I stand
Outside

I push
Buttons

I hear
Sounds

I understand
So little

Sick and secluded
I discover myself
Bouncing between
Feelings and hot water music

A poetry pong master in the making!

Or perhaps a mere loner
Lost in wild blue?
Criticizing deflections and
The distance of the moon

These tides are my own doing
They'll drag me back in
They always do

A drunken realization of
What matters most
Wanders in and out
Of consciousness
In and out
Of solipsistic getaways
In and out
Of this existential rain
Then miraculously sticks

Becomes static

Electricity
Crackles and lingers
In my ears like
Bubble wrap buttons
Snapping and
Slamming this
Contemporary chatter
Back into the reality
Of these off-white walls

A residual impact
I can feel in my bones

I wonder who knows

He was
A fallen star
Ever spinning
A hidden halo of
Hawking radiation

He dragged her in
Kicking and screaming

Swallowed her fire and spat out
The ash, now stripped of all color

Into a world not unlike the one he'd stolen her from

Her particles
Now formless
Drifted without purpose

A monochromatic diffusion of her quondam existence

The sepia shade of her filter facade
Barely deflected the stupid questions
She'd never have the answers to

But she knew what to do

She knew how to drift and spread herself
Across this rock of coruscating life

With a thinness nothing short of impressive

Like a flattened chameleon
Hidden in the midst of
A bustling city sidewalk

You observed for six months as
I clawed away at every fleshy obstacle
And only then were you so compelled
To take part in the excavation

Our love is measured
(I should have defended myself better
But you were drunk and
I knew you wouldn't remember)
By the embarrassment that binds us together