Walk with me
We will become drenched in sunlight
Holding hands
Feeling the vibrato of happiness penetrating the back of your palm
electricity shooting from my finger tips
Im not sure its love, but I've never felt any emotion so true.

Walk with me
We are drenched in sunlight.

Like a leaf falling unknowingly towards a blade of grass…
I impacted at dawn with the sound of a faded smash…
Invaded by reality, my brain whipped up a list of tasks..
But I quickly yawned it off in favor of dreams from the past…

How nice is it to retire to a place of wonder and passion…
When your days are filled with pondering your squandered rations…
A place away from heartache in a land of exotic fashions…
Strange tales of horror mixed with ****** interactions..

What a world it is that our dreams create…
Even giving glimpses of a future face..
Or maybe a real story from a future place..
Of guts and glory from earth or space…

They open Pandora’s box of ideas and images..
But unlike life, the dream diminishes…
Like the feeling of love lost with sleepy grimaces..
And the attack on your foe that’s lost it’s viciousness..

The ability to be in one place then instantly in the next…
The thought of how you got there never leaves you perplexed…
It just is what it is like the characters in this text…
Images of prisoners that your subconscious collects…

Lined up next to each other, depicting events…
Comedies, dramas, love stories, and suspense…
The feeling of realism is just so intense…
The horror is horrifying and the fortunes are immense…

That’s why I love these stories my brain invents…
So now I’m off to catch tonight’s main events…

Balanced at the gravel margin
of the road, veiled in grey and blue,
his hands are ****** loose around
the bicycle’s white handlebars
in equipoise below his beard’s
feathered fringe. His threadbare jeans
ride up and down at the knees
with the turning of the pedals,
effortless as air. He shows the world
a look of grave surprise, it seems to me -
presents it to a land that never was his own,
but one that he is only passing through.
Roadside cottonwoods and maples
shield him from the skimming sun,
and overhead a skein of Canadian geese
call and call.

jazz,
jazz,
swing,
dancing melt city on the hot side walk,
where,
little boys in jeans play,
baseball,
newyorkcity,
newyorkwomen,
newyorkgraveyards,
new­yorkbackalleys,
newyorktelephonecall,
call her at 2 AM,
drunk on a wine only the bums know about,
i bought a pack of,
cigarettes this morning,
i'm all out,
the side walk tilts,
untying my shoe laces,
and knotting my eye lashes,
she picks up after the 4th ring,
she's dressed to go out,
she's dressed to be undressed and to be kissed,
she's dressed for me,
jazz or something like a Medieval God,
shakes and vibrates and quakes and ******* down the street,
it sounds like rich whiskey in cheap glasses,
and sweating trumpet players and women dancing with their legs and skirts up,
i tell her to meet me on 6th avenue,
where everything comes to make sense,
with the whiskey,
the jazz,
the women in short dresses,
and the club is loud,
leaking out only certain noises,
specific laughs and,
the important notes,
played on the piano,
and squeezed from the,
saxophone,
like a poppy flowers ***** milk,
the payphone rings,
but i'm gone.

Long drives, full of smoke, conversations melting into aurora’s milky shades after losing time in words; searching for it in each other’s eyes
Winter snow warmed by your thighs
Everywhere inside your voice, velvet blankets, curled in our cocoon
Engineering butterflies, highlighted by sun-varnished fields
In the car and in our eyes we saw eachother’s (two others together, not one another but an other ) minds smiling suspended, a suspected coming seduction
Your smell enveloping the pillow for days after, mid-day sleep for your touch and afternoon naps for your body, midnight slumber for your eyes, and morning red-eyed serenity for your thoughts
A necessity and a need
Pretending that IT’s not there
But IT’s everywhere
And she’s out of town so I’ll stay with you
And we know in the shower, we know in the kitchen, we know as my fingers slide through hair to tame the beast in your wild curls behind left ear
Pearl cream and warm caverns of electric heat, living pulsating oceans dripping rhythm and blues, exploring sensation.  
As you remove the protection
and we can feel the concave and convex atom fit atom,
completing complex patterns and opening eachother’s wonders: from
Closed to open to fixated pupils to lights on and conscious of each prickly soft sensation building each moment forming each expanse of your silky body
A reality so dreamy in time, so blue neon in memory
But imagined into dark corners, madebelieved-backed-out of existence…again and again
The car becomes the motions of goodbye, oh but for a month, oh but for a few, oh but for a forever year, and finally a never
And I travel 2000 miles to die in forgotten Springfield
And it becomes real after that white horribly glowing hospital, wanderers scraping of their faces but mostly just failing at suicide and everything: all. at. once.
We know now and don’t pretend
Telephone vibrations heating our voices entwining our choices, imagined bodies and pictured eyes
The love that radiates as if a star you see but only after it has already died, burned itself alive millions of miles away
Aesthetic aftershocks of your heartbeat running against my chest those nights of that laugh tickling the corners of my ear
Now where even Time fails us, a mist gracefully bowing over the water as it recedes with its illusion of contact
Now like something that has lost all edges: an image, a symbol, a perfect form escaped from the world of perfect forms, the empty form of eternal comparison or the shattering porcelain gavel
Now too broken
Now too high
Now too late to bring my baby home.
Deaf into that obsidian dream hanging
like a new moon behind everything,
the northwest-telephone rainy and cold
And it’s gone
But I remember seeing myself inside your eye, your reflection dancing in mine, the space between possibility