The happiest man I see all day
cleans up after us depressed college kids
While we chase jobs that aren't our dreams
And drown ourselves in liquor so we don't feel a thing
While we smoke ciggerates to exhale all the pain
And it really makes me wonder what were doing here if the happiest man I see all I day is only just a janitor.

******* and
**** your white knuckles shaped like the hills in Tennessee
And **** your soft lips that dry out in the sun
And **** your tan skin and your heartbeat
And **** your indecisive eyes that can never pick between green or blue
And **** your brown and blonde hair that you NEVER do anything with
And **** your silence
And
**** your smile
And the way the sun hits your teeth
And
*******

...for taking over my head...
I can't get you out.
******* for making me fall in love
With everything you are.

When I lived in the city, night, true night, never came.
The natural day gave way to the artificial day,
a day made possible by streetlight, by humming billboard.
With sick pinks and near-white greys, the early hours
hiccuped away. I slept or didn't. And this time in my life,
as any time in my life, is marked by a woman.

I won't say much about her. She was a performer,
and I've never been a steady fan of much of anything.
So when I kissed her the last time, I kissed her like it
was the last time, a kiss calibrated to say, "It's been."
When she kissed me the last time, she kissed me
like she didn't know it was the last time,
a kiss not so much a kiss as a mouth half-opened eternity,
where the sun didn't shine, nor was there night.

Baucis and Philemon,
Elderly souls, never empty of
Love,
Opened their doors for two strangers,
Whom
Unbeknownst to them, originated from
Above.
Zues and Hermes, cloaked in the robes of the
Poor,
Were turned away from every household,
Until they rapped on Baucis and Philemon's
Door.
"Come in, come in, shed your cloaks, and warm your hands,
Baucis,
Go!
Use our last loaves, grab the roast, the ham!"

Never mind their
Poverty

Never mind their
Nearly empty
Pantry and Cupboards

Baucis and Philemon possessed the rarest trait,
One the God's most
Coveted.
And while the two strangers ate their foods, and consumed their
Wine,
Baucis noted their cups never lowered beneathe the
Brim Line.

"God's... Divine!"
Cried the two elderly
Lovers.
"Follow us up the hill, Baucis, Philemon,
Do not look back as you climb,
Only to each other."

The two followed the Gods, still cloaked in the garb of strangers,
Never looking back at their village
Below.
Until, reaching the top, and turning back, their eyes didn't fall back upon their
Home.

Zues had called forth a flood, sent to destroy the once ungrateful
Village,
But where Baucis and Philemons cottage once lay,
A beautiful temple had risen from the filthy
Sullage.

Their wish to take care of the temple was swiftly
Granted,
As was their second wish, one that was almost
Demanded.


"I must die, as soon as my love does, I can't ever be without her."


The rest of their lives were spent glorifying the Gods for their kindness and love,
And when the time came for them to take their last
Breath,
Squeezed hands and warm souls crossed the River Styx,
And their broken and withered bodies were
Left.

The wrinkles on their
Skin,
Were made brown, and beautiful
Again
As their flesh turned to bark, and their hair to
Leaves,
The two elderly lovers, became intertwining
Trees.

I find comfort in Death
When I look at the Stars

Because I see them suspended in the sky
And think

How I came from those very lights
And one day I'll die and decompose into dirt and nutrients for the soil

Then, millions of
Years later,
Our sun will die too, and turn everything we've ever known
Back into the atoms
That make up those very stars I once viewed

Then I'll be home.

Then I'll be home.

Take my hand,
Outside, look, tell
Me what you see.
"Clouds swirling together in the sky,
Wavering plains, green grass swaying in the wind,
And on that hill, a tree."
Squeeze my hand,
Ask me what I see.
"I see mankind's escape, the root of the word natural,
And everything that is beauty.
I see the chaos of accidental art, the brightness of innate happiness,
And its most important, crucial ability."
Squeeze your hand,
Fingertips stroking emotions onto my skin,
Look yourself in the mirror,
Written on your sharp cheekbones,
I'll tell you what I see.
I see clouds, swirling together in the sky, wavering plains, green grass swaying in the wind,
And on that hill, a tree.
Beneath your half closed eyes, and through the waves of your voice,
I see everything,
Everything that is beauty.