yellow beams
through dead branches
like broken glass
suspended
above the gutters
broken wood bridge
do not enter
under fences
across train tracks
too dark
it is rarely worth it
boiled emulsion
bubbling sickly beige
solid wafers
of former images
unfit for alien eyes
i watch as the faces
melt
i watch
too long
the strip goes blank
it wasn't much
of a memory
any way
Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 1:44 PM UTC
driving through wet canyons
searching for meaning
and chocolate cake
howling and snapping
the fog rolls in
too specific to be a dream
too absurd to be real
a contained hysteria
forged through loneliness
and exasperation
everything is red and blue and yellow
and the diner closes early on sundays
underpasses and trashbags
gritty and ugly
conversations bombastic
short lived
while the rain drips lazy
and the fog sinks lower
racing across town lines
clamoring for cheap fills because
one was not enough
my eyes cannot focus
and she soon leaves
but we have to come back
and we come back to
creep through the hills
and the fog descends
choking the empty spaces
and i sit grinning
terrified as the
night ends with these
fake
houses on a solitary
hill and the fog
still rolling
rolling
down
Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 1:40 PM UTC
everywhere i look
i stare through my surroundings
in this lovely little market
with hand drawn laminated signs
and a somewhat not
miserable work force
i feel almost happy
but it is like my eyes
my eyes
have gone numb
and i wander
sample and gaze blank
i do not know what
shook me out of it
but i want
i really want to go back
to that fluorescent purity
of fair trade peace of mind
a non GMO existence
among the antioxidants
and coffee samples
and those hawaiian shirts
oh wow those hawaiian shirts
my eyes like shattered glass
refracting all this light
inside and my mind going blank
where did this goofy smile
come from?
but it's gone and
all i am left with
is the euphoria
the wonder
of missing something
Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 1:34 PM UTC
empty lakes and
barren streets try
to keep me inside
detached from the
land of detachment
tired eyes cold coffee
sun of light but no
warmth the constant
buzz of renovation
call it limbo call it
boring it stands here
the middle of the end
a running projector with
no film left the encroaching
white space passive sadness
screams are not heard they
are never voiced but they
are there under the material
Nov 22, 2014
Nov 22, 2014 at 1:06 PM UTC
i only dream of the past
the moments of indiscretion
i grasp at the illusions
pocketing wisps of smoke
i pray for nothing i have
lost faith in good faith
although rationality is just
as bad just as artificial
i hope that every little
thing is gonna be alright
but every little thing is
is just one massive thing
i wish to maintain the
frenetic the hot ears and
head the constant movement
that synthesizes purpose
i want to embrace death
hold it close and quiet have
it whisper in my head as i am
gently ripped from the fabric
Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 5:16 PM UTC
mouth of proof power
present taped over
stitched together with
words promises
processes good faith
the scream locked below
our feet deeper than
sadness or frustration
pulsing as we step the
primal mouth of existence
an all powerful maw
muzzled by complexity
trampled by progress
our inner core
impossibly dense iron
and nickel holding the
entirety of history
compressed by layer
upon layer the scream
we fear the scream of
truth laying the horrors
before us stripping us
naked and feeding us
through the teething
razor wired intestines
of humanity's
digestive tract
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 4:16 PM UTC
the mess that fills empty space
robbing it of power
too well lit
only empty in shadow
ears ringing out the window and
our faces are so close
her eyes flash their teeth
dull sheen in the new day darkness
legs intertwined solely as anchors
we exist shift and prove through
our torsos face and hair
stopping to share the fear that
only grips us in
the comfortable silences
that weave through unseen gaps
three small windows leaking
grey morning shrill chirps every
five minutes jar and fracture warmth
foreshadow abandonment
the pleasant desolation
of the face down concrete march
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 1:26 PM UTC
labyrinth lit by
floodlights straining
the vibrations
emanating from the
ground crusted with
glue pine sap and
citric acid a
flashlight in hand
to shine shadows
on awareness to
cast the eyes shut
and unflinching
not a twitch of
sight feeling the
coarse pig hair of
the walls shutting
out the light with
clenched lids open
palms with fiberglass
gashes staining a
path not to follow
but to inhale the
pathogenic patterns
ghosts showing us
the way towards
translucent permanence
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 1:21 PM UTC
a throbbing that
presses in and
forward from
the back of the
head eyeballs
squeezed gently
in the palm of
the orbita to
serve as reminder
of the pain of
shrinking the fear
of compaction
warm lights that
stab and radiate
as taste lingers
on the sides and
back of the tongue
swallowing the
nostalgia as forceps
press tight enough
to lift the brain out
of the cranium
vibrations and the
ringing that is too
much to seek out
grating cheese along
a brick wall as temple
rubs lose their power
in stressed syllables
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 11:58 PM UTC
my friend made a
fort of her bed with
tapestries and lights
and the five of us
converged into a
mass condensed to
a point of peace
and convalescence
time did not exist
under that sheet
with pin ****** of
light laid gently on
top the hours were
not ours we hugged
and shifted and
peeled away the
inner layers of an
almost rotten onion
tears and eyes filled
with a sad knowing
that we murmured
but did not explain
always drawn closer
in there was no point
of critical mass no
crevice small enough
to ignore no words
too true to be withheld
i spent twenty two
hours there growing
one with the mattress
pads and wind chimes
clanging as the heat
hissed gently and found
that silence that we
always said we wanted
just a moment of silence
in which i was able to be
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 1:23 PM UTC