The moment chin and chest are one
Angling to brace against one another
It curls your wrists as a beast would snarl
It’s involuntary: you’re breathing at intervals
(it feels nice to shiver)
You remain there
There is no real panic, 'they' still remain
'They' demand the credits roll as a tribute
You provide their names as a fair trade
(you let them see it through)
Sep 26, 2022
Sep 26, 2022 at 12:22 AM UTC
Pleading for a purchased god
Romanticized for its ancien régime
Celiac, and yet I licked the wheat paste
Of the letter I was was trimmed A4
In all that time spent by the basin
(and its traffic-trimming wetlands)
I only rode my bike to the depot
To color code my calendar
When capital kept its calls collect,
When the gravy train kept me idle
Each chamber would be emptied
Fruitlessly: punch drunk with praise
(Indulge a little)
Each from four through five: orchestrated
The plains always claim the sixth
(Respecting the tradition of western folk)
Only three will ever threaten treatment
Sep 25, 2022
Sep 25, 2022 at 9:57 PM UTC
Tulips tucked,
Prepared for breeze
Those April hours
The Wednesday wheeze
When all the pollen
And all the world,
Liquidate
Like milk that’s curled
No sour smell
Just tasteless terror
A fraction of them
Realize the error
They were first to fight
Or rather: to groan
The weary system
The lauded loan
They’re huddled hugging
By meters and miles
Like a Finnish bus stop
Spared the British Isles
Mar 12, 2020
Mar 12, 2020 at 6:34 PM UTC
Like a cauldron of spice that’s been left to simmer,
The shifting dunes; of sand and all it’s golden glimmer.
It’s a taste of home and I’ve got a ticket to ride,
Flames lick the lucid leaves you’ve drained and dried.
Mar 11, 2020
Mar 11, 2020 at 1:32 AM UTC
The thrum of a city’s streets; the lifeblood of the foyer’s rack.
A simple lobby to most in passing, yet—to some—a trap of loss and lack.
Mar 1, 2020
Mar 1, 2020 at 2:39 AM UTC
Bubbles bound for breakers,
Sea salt snacky snakers,
Great gulp goldfish galleys,
Brown beard barnacles and reef rash rallies,
Abstract art, active angles,
Tingly teepee tension tangles,
Swimming so safety sound,
Newest navies so nobly nouned!
Feb 20, 2020
Feb 20, 2020 at 5:02 PM UTC
It’s morning! Finally morning on the even ebb of eve.
The tides! The marina’s tides are thick like wicker’s weave.
What sand has shifted? What news from Diego’s dawn?
From covers; the bark of seals sing like a bay yacht’s yawn.
Dinghy docks and pristine clamor; now I hear the bells!
No, not the toll it takes, but just the charm it spells.
I orient, I wake. I’m quick to smile; the sun follows suit.
Searching south; the daily buzz on right, and left: a bay that’s mute.
But the sound’s not snuffed, you see, motors have plenty to spare.
Because whether or not you knew or noticed, the navy never seems to care.
Compelled and called from my fruitful rest; muesli munched with jams.
These charts and graphs I take with me while I brew my grind of grams.
Feb 20, 2020
Feb 20, 2020 at 12:45 PM UTC