phased whispers from the past tiptoe across my ear hairs
they leave small shards of broken glass in their steps
and their scar tissue doesn't echo
it hums
i bleed memory more quietly now
...
but sorrow is the leg of the human condition, no?
we limp because we are still moving
we crawl because grief taught us rhythm
we find it here once again, realizing
these words will soon retire,
retreat into the unknown
we will rent a room in the house of rest
where the windows do not open
but dreams leak in anyway
the lease is steep, still paying monthly
even in death
sorrow is a landlord you never leave
...
so if you would,
dont drop a dime on a casket
lay me bare with the earth, as i did with her
allow the dirt to kiss me softly, as she did me
let my scars sing, and watch weeds form
from the end of my wilting touches
my only hope was for them to be
more beautiful than i

still spiraling-
the kind of panic that tastes like copper
and settles into the back parts of my gums
          i find myself at odds
          with the stranger's eyes staring back
everyone wears their hunger and their haunt
some just press it better
and i look especially dapper tonight

doctor, i say as i barely whisper,
my eyes have seen the years
they have watched revolutions lose steam
and villains win slow
theyve stared through smoke
and still missed the fire

the world has good men
the world needs bad men
i read that somewhere-
or maybe heard myself say it
over and
    over and
        over again
          the pliable line in the gray decides
          the men that simply sit in poetry
          and the ones that carve it into their bones

in the spaces between increasing beats
echoes of silence mask themselves as wisdom
and the reflection wears a suit fitting all too well
still wishing to change

an alternator is essential to the combustion engine
its main responsibility is to convert

chemical energy -------> to -------> electrical energy

this charges and replenishes the engine battery

my alternator has been broken for some time
but i didnt know until this morning
                                           when it finally snapped
perhaps it was my fault, believing human invention to be elastic
                                           when humans themselves are rigid, we believed
                                           we could create perfection outside ourselves
which is why i am now confused with this imperfect machinery
i have taken all the necessary precautions
i have filled the car will fuel
                                           in the form of fast food
and i know there is plenty of flower-based oil
                                           running through my tubes
i have solar-charged its battery
                                           by standing in the sun once a day
and i have pumped old exhaust out of the pistons
                                           by ******* by ******* brains out
so why, please tell me why
does the chemical energy i provide
yield no electrical energy in my brain
why oh why does it move slow still, and grind
                                            as a cassette track forced onto a vinyl player
why oh why, on this Monday of all Mondays
                                            on this week of all weeks
wont my ******* car start

in a room sits a man with a sunflower
there is nothing else in the room, he has
plenty of space to move around
but some days, it feels much smaller

he sits on the floor with his sunflower
and just watches it, his life is best
       when he just watches it
there is one window, always shining light
for the sunflower to follow,
       as sunflowers do

every so often, the man hides the sunflower
maybe he is bored, more likely scared
he puts it in the corner,
in the closet
       anything to keep it away from the sun
he will remove layers of his skin
so that he has something to cover the window
       anything to keep the light out of the room

his head buried in the ground
his eyes too red to read
       what would he read, anyway?
curled in a ball, he sleeps in the corner
       hiding

it takes time
but the sunflower       again
finds its way back to the center of the room
it begins to grow        again
it continues to follow the light
       as sunflowers do

sometimes he wakes up and notices,
and a smile breaks the crust on his lips
he sits with it, brushes the pedals       and cries
sometimes things are good
       sometimes he is okay with it
but we on the outside of the room
      we wait
until the light under the door disappears
until he       again       suffocates the sunflower with darkness
each time, the flower growing closer to death
       i don't know how to make him stop,
       but i wish the flower would just die

there is a darkness, an
                                   emptiness of my existence
yet in my pocket, always, is the

                                  light

someone else is missing
if only it shone stronger in my skies
but for now, in this space,
it is bright enough

****, her curl game crazy, my shawty lazy
she layin in the bed on a Sunday, it's hazy
i order pizza, my lovely gettin tasty
my wifey, my type beat, she in my head replayin
like me, she feisty, hold me down
she the type to ride until the ground
ride me, she likes the supersize me
and im lovin the sights that only I see
she hot and icy, rockin the white ice creams
aint no shoes in the corner coming from side teams
snap awake, she overtaken all my dreams, i done
wrote about her, my paper stackin to five reams
i know she driving me crazy
im sleeping less, more late nights of lately
im driving high, no highways to my baby
she the only one with the love that can save me

girl, you buzzing by
send a message, get me stressing
i get these butterflies
need your honey, not money, now im so lost in
those eyes
and the way that you're lookin, you got me sayin
where we goin tonight?
where we goin tonight?

said, you been stuck on my mind for a while now
i been thinking of sweet lines to calm me down
my heart writes with pistol ink still packing, but you
keep takin off with actors hogging all of the action
and i can't understand it, where's all the planning?
her heads in the clouds, and i can't see her ever landing
honey lost in the moves, let her hide from the truth
give me thoughts to list off in the booth, now she
hit me up on the come down, so i come round
every time, its like she finally love me now
show me songs, baby singing from my mouth
aint no thoughts in my head, she sayin them all aloud
now she gone, wait
there's gotta be another way
there's gotta be something more i could say
i know there's prolly things i could sing to make you stay
but i know none of those will prolly get said today

you stare at me with admiration,
a conquering aspect of nature
a mountain top, or the half moon
as it sits in the sky,                                     impossibly far

on evening drives, we listen to music
i turn the volume **** all the way up, and
you stare, as if you've never
loved so fully, or allowed yourself to exist
with passion

in early mornings, we laugh and we draw
pictures of a life together, small doodles
despite being awake, it's clear
                  we both know it's a dream
  and maybe we both know the dream ends
once we wake up
  and maybe we both know waking up means
more than just our eyes opening
                                                         ­         oh, how we've loved to keep them closed

and now, with eyes fully open and strained
i stare at the half moon,                            seeing you
seeing the empty space beside
i see a byproduct of a conquered love
and i stare, admiring