There was an Old Person of Ems,
Who casually fell in the Thames;
And when he was found
They said he was drowned,
That unlucky Old Person of Ems.

We made nests in clocks
that Summer the electricity died.
Stars rose out of the ether for the first time in centuries.

Autumn rolled in
but it only grew hotter.
We climbed on rooftops to escape the heat of our homes
and saw the silhouettes of strangers follow.

Winter choked the freeways, the subways, the old ways.
Rust fell on us like rain.
We danced in the belly of an abandoned ship
cheeks burning with mirth.

By Spring
the plants had withered
and the animals had slept until their bodies devoured their souls.
We sat on the town hall as the sun engulfed the sky
Thankful for such a beautiful life.

I am
Nothing more
Than a bag of bones.
My rib cage
Is a prison you rend
In twain, tear the mesh,
And sift fruitlessly through.
I am
An empty shell
You discarded;
All unraveled ends
And frayed edges.
I am
Orange peels
Carrying the essence
Of something sweet
As an echo of scent
And color-
-I will
Return to the earth
And start again.

I smoked cigarettes to forget my pain,
Or ease it until I wasn't alone
At least in terms of physical space,
Throwing myself into people to forget
the person I didn't want to be
But felt myself becoming.

I wish I could go back to the summer nights,
Alcohol-tainted breath, the high goes away,
And you're left with nothing but blurry memories.

There is never a high, a rush good enough to
Erase reality,
Always waiting for the comedown,
Remembering the pain numbed by
Drug-induced self confidence and
False happiness

Searching for a place far enough from
This filthy world
Far enough away to numb me for good,
Wishing I had an escape route just a little
More permanent.

Words don't spill out of me anymore,
Tears don't either.
I can't force myself to put my feelings into
stanzas, well rhymed, correct syllable counts,
My words fall like *****,
Never appetizing enough to be beautiful

But I still find myself reaching for a bottle
When times get hard

Someone had to say it.
That gray area between black and white is so full of those lost in contemplation.
Without a doubt,
someone had to dig the moat that divides this sandcastle from the ocean.
The goal isn't to keep the water out,
but to let it surround us in a symbiotic relationship.

Someone had to do it.
Allow the sun to burn their skin in order to determine the value of a brand new tint.
A stint of concentrated consternation never did anyone no good.
Someone had to bite the bark to test the quality of the wood.

Somebody, somewhere,
traveled through light years just to glean a glow on a mystery that had always been misunderstood.
Someone had to go there first so that the rest of us could know.  

So here's an ode to all pioneers;
the bravest,
and most bold.

Like the sun's transcendental glow-
His positive energy is illuminating  

Like the sun is an almost perfect sphere -
His personality, character and qualities are almost flawless

Like the sun is the source of  Earth's bio -
His very existence sustains my joyful life

Like the sun being our universe's calm, steady and powerful center -
His presence occupies the core of my thought, word and deed

Like the sun radiates a strong magnetic field -
His embodiment allures me so intensely yet effortlessly

Though the sun's light reaches Earth in 8 minutes -
His light extends to me in an attosecond

Though the Sun contains 99.86% of the mass in the Solar System-
His accommodation in my heart encompasses a full 100%

Though the sun may one day run out of nuclear fuel and burn out
His love for me and my love for Him will remain eternal, everlasting...

*Unfathomably, Spiritually endless...
There can only be one sun in a universe, I know not mine.

you are leading me softly
into deep blues and tangled sheets
quiet impressions of your past loves and their crooked teeth
while you, hang me in yours:
golden molars set on a house of cards
(This dissipates and collides)
and you don't breathe you smoke
pouring grey all out into the empty space
skin meets air meets time meets space
you spit ash and I reevaluate
the space between our hands
spiraling again
you tell me to open my eyes and take it all in
your hands on my waist
my hands turning tight
catch and combust
collide and spark your apathy
I burry myself in the face of the ocean
swirling slate hushed under the seabed
the wanting comes in waves as I'm drifting after you
this longing eats holes in my favorite shirts and breaks like the wings of the tender creatures of the night
wasn't their fault they were just drawn to the light in your teeth
and the feeling compels that as the waves break neither of us can remain
I'm just tripping after
deep blues and tangled sheets
quiet impressions of your past loves and their crooked teeth
just hang it and hang me in yours.