This is a nevermind write something I started without a light Something I push on am not pulled|And I recoil here And run off. Or try. What cravenous keeps me here incongruous with the night and your desires
Noisome old child would be vibing tine seeking orchestration waves of direction keeping time and melodic line and silences like boxcars parked in the switch yard long as anyone can remember tapping along
snick snick goes something timely in the background snick snick snick snick rising tenor has me hoping and looking up for light to shine you should see the air shimmer
skritch skritch across a rising round solidity are you are you are you still in this song still playing along i can't tell anymore i can't feel any more subtlety i need the boom boom boom song i need to ask i need to be along note
I read this physicist's comment on consciousness to Nell, my white bunny Nell said, Nibble, nibble nibble Nibble nibble, nibble Nibble nibble nib Then paused watching in her quiet way to let it sink in Delightful!
and there is this moment that has no bottom the surfaces around you the people around you the furniture around you you cannot grasp as you drain away from everything knowing
this juvenalistic probalistic stream with no oil or butter scalds no one doesn't smell like breakfast does it sneak away from that thought 'for your caught with
What would I teach a poet? to write with your feet so you won't miss a beat to keep the page neat and pretend to be sweet that rhyming all the lines is poetry dressed to the 9's that reading it aloud always makes you proud to not pretend and let the **** thing end
When I was not a person I could not treat you like one I could not understand the-the looks you gave me When I was not a person I was a crunchy thing good and broken spilt in time unapproved and no way in contesting for particles of, whilst lifting myself out of self-hood I raged When I was not a person I did things I couldn't do as a person that piled up around me and couldn't be surmounted encasing possibility plastic wrapping the settee When I was not a person I was a much greater thing then all of you could ever hope to be though blind and hopeless and crying look at me When I was not a person I couldn't let you see me like this
I am oscillating in a wrestling match over an infuriating soup of potentials I'd be a wave but I'm particular We'd know if you'd look that hardening down and away
In my head ducking thoughts bears chasing through trees me squawking away hitting the other side of my skull and realizing I can't fit out that ear Head for a nostril? it is not going to work i hold very still and start vibrating 'til even the woods are shaking and the bears yield to my faux quake and then because that is so hard to do so much to endure I dampen down the vibrations and we're all good and no one sees
small words in a small white box i feel as if I am burying something and begging you to dig it up and exclaim in delight and a little fright right right right
What happened there I wondered and I thought of the rain it held to things and light had a special gravity across your face it said the universe lightly
who's hands are these are they my mom's they are capable of working so hard though i don't so much, i have and they do are they my dad's i can work with them they get how most things fit pretty much on their own are these the hands of some ancestor whose thumb swiveled around abit are these the hands at the ends of your wrists, henchmen to would-be poets