The Minutes pass me by
disdainful of my wailing.
They don't bother helping;
they don't stick around for that matter.
With only sixty seconds to exist,
I must be of no concern to them.

The Hours' fists crash into my skull
creating a constant clangor resonating through my brain
exciting my ego,
electrifying regrets.

The Days...
Oh those god-damned Days.
They see me confused and so seize their chance;
they pull out my feet
right from under my frame,
and helpless, hurt,
I collapse to the earth.
And now begins their fun.

The Months form gangs called 'Years'
and The Years take their turn
breaking my joints, my fingers, my knees,
all my snappable, crackable points.
Curved, crippled,  and creaking,  
I languish in fantasies of what's supposed to be.

Time makes things worse.

A dark shadow moves over me.
I look up  as far as I can lift my heavy head
and like a fat man coming to rest on an ant's back,
I see The Decades with their massive, soul crushing weight
squatting their hindquarters;
oppressively,
down upon my twig-like spine.

This is a merciless beating!
This is the beat of time.

And throughout the abuse,
I crawl, cringe, cower
as safe as can be in a low lying state on the ground,
(which is still six feet too high for all that time cares!)
I hear from somewhere afar
an unfaltering decree
from my maker to me
"Stand up straight! For Heaven's sake!"

Never forget
there is poetry in dirt
in greens, in beets,
especially in rutabagas.
Three-dollar-a-bag spinach,
you are a symphony of compost
with which an old man’s teeth are smitten;
Rosemary sprig, beneath all your flavor
you are the staff-lines of a madrigal written
in loving anticipation of the mason jars, weighed down with water
where you will grow and swell and bud and spread out strong purple flowers which say
that you are part of a song which sings
every year
a little louder.

This coming September, I will miss you dearly.
I will be days of travel away from your roots, your mist,
your six-in-the-morning-before-classes tonic of rain
which saturates my skin so good I’m surprised when I shake the dirt from the leeks
all over my bare feet & you don’t crop up green & white from between my toes,
that my arms don’t grow heavy with peppers
after they cake with jalapeno & bell seeds from all the half-rotten
to whom I have given baptism to in shallow plastic tubs of water
floating like elations of fire
in the grayness of the morning.

Know how to tell if a pepper’s rotten? Wash it & shake it
& if you can hear the water swishing inside,
if you can make a maraca of its innards,
then give it back to the dirt.

This is the wisdom of peppers:
when you grow soft
when you have been chosen
& plucked,
& washed
& thoroughly loved
& shaken,

when you have called out like fire
beside your brothers in a basin,

lay down in the compost
the kindly compost,
& listen, just listen,
(there will be nothing left to do
but listen)

to the poetry of dirt.

Dam I need a blunt,
can't put up with this cunt,
I'm fealin a new person
My heart just feals like cursin...

I've bin hear,
in this new home,
sober a new rome,
If i had my shear bong
you'd sure  would hear a cheer song.
I'd feal you out so happy,
have my words churned out to sappy?.
I'm way out,
    I'm not burned,
I get it I sure learned
far out mars rover,
spot me out like your'e lucky clover,
out in a big croud
I'm rare like a drout  cloud,
like I said,
I miss my bed,
eatin all day,
    freakin all may,
Give it a doobie a precious fuckin ruby
Not lit Not fit
can-I-Just-quit?.

How bout a bubble and a bowl,?
no trouble nore parol,
you know i'm slick won't get in no shit,
just help a nigga out and blow me a hit.
  I love my jane we plan to mary
when she's gone my world gets scary..
So be it if i'm sketchy,
I'm posted monalisa ,
see me on the wall,
touch me and I'll fall,
  trust I see it all,
you walk right out the door and leave me on this floor,
I've seen it as it's low thats why I tend to flow,
Best of what I know is what minds like to show..
don't come back that lock is latched,
   holdin steady bit attatched,
I need a hook to hold me steady.
some one strong that will be ready,

If you weren't you and u wasn't me...
Some way some how this could be...
That what ever us missing must be the key...

Lost in that one summer of glee...
What once was passion turned to misery...
No more us, there was no more we...
Lived through spite and hypocrisy...
Every now and then I wonder how could this be...

I lost the person I was once before, but not anymore you see...
So hear my plea...
I apologize in advance but I must go off in search of me...

Like rosemary twigs, and lavender leaves,
The loss that tore my heart open today,
Chews at my body and mind.
In my stomach I feel an aching from the emptiness therein.
Excitement is low, and I can’t hear the beating of my heart.
That organ seems so quiet and careful,
That I wonder if it’s my heart keeping me alive
Or just some force of the universe or my will.
At times my mind seems like rice paper,
An empty sheet of white with no words written on to tell a story.
At others, my thoughts drift backwards in time,
Wishing that all the moments before would still be alive for later.

I always thought mouths were for kissing, smiling, and laughing.
Isn’t that a beautiful fiction?
But it is not a hundred miles close to the truth.
Yes, mouths do kiss, and smile, and evoke laughter,
But the movements of the lips are also quick,
Like the strike of a snake.
These mouths spread talk and venomous gossip,
One to another,
Like an apocalyptic plague that brings to all fever and vomiting.

Wouldn't the world be as perfect as an ivory-bell-flower?
If there was no heart break, gossip, or endings.  

Here I sit now,
Sitting on my knees with my hands resting on my legs,
And my back arched forward,
Like a monk in meditation.
The rosemary and lavender is growing all over me,
Transforming my body into a scented orb of green.

She said, "You make me feel like I'm in the wrong skin."

And as he sat there in contemplation of this newest revelation

She told him about Thursday
And how he'd kissed her that way
And how it made her feel whole
As if they were one being meant to be
Joined at the mouth,
But had snapped apart and were together
Again

She told him about the way her heart
Raced with anxiety
And her fingers shook every day
But when he kissed her everything went numb
And her brain thought slowly
And the world kept turning
And she wasn't afraid it would stop anymore

Finally, she told him about the skin
She told him that being away from him
Made her snap back to reality
But she had finally tasted happiness
And her old reality felt all wrong
She felt all wrong without him

She asked him if he loved her
She couldn't bear to leave him

He didn't hear a word

"But your skin is so beautiful."

And he leaned in and kissed her.