as i live and breathe
and
as i die and shed:
moult,
transform,
undulate,
flourish.
a line or two
for vitality,
for becoming:
   a lake,
   a chasm,
   a riverbed.
a line or two
for mortality,
for becoming:
   a library,
   a prison,
   a crossing.
bodhisattva,
i drank the sun that morning,
golden brew,
a potion upon
my face.
bathing in warm light
eyes closed,
lungs sky,
my blood is a river,
mountains for bones.
my resonance is vitality.
i am becoming;
through death and life
and
through death
and
through life
i alight.

brief echoes of the past
arrange themselves in my present
like shadow puppets on the backs
of my eyelids while i sleep.  

there is an uneven fulcrum
digging into my lower back no
matter how i turn my long
body.

my eyes open into
the same familiar room, with
the same familiar speckles on the
ceiling that they always do.   the
shadows resume their innumerable
forms and i wake
to write another step towards
the beveled edge of immortality.

two (or is it three...?) weeks in to the
overnight shift and never have i wanted
   to wash myself in
the golden rays of that nearest                     star
our sun more than i do now as the ineradicable
   cloak of night stretches
itself over these my newly waking hours.  this night
i feel massive but
diffuse, like the ghost of a
   glacier lingering amongst the scablands;  nebulous
and immense,
   like a short-circuited god-machine
cannibalizing itself in a forgotten
corner of the universe.    the sleep is broken, the
mind needs rest.  the mind needs
   rest.

"isn't that something you
want?" she asked.
"no" i replied. "what i desire cannot be given. only by providence can that which is unattached be realized and only by letting go can it be integrated."
"well then...", she said with a smile,
"...perhaps it's time, hmmm?"
and at that she folded
in on herself
over and over
like complex origami
until she became
a butterfly.  

then she fluttered
into my
chest and took
root in my heart
like a seed.  

she grows there
now like a low moon
lover bathing in moonshine,
dripping in starlight,
changing in
the glow.

she's in my mind
only, ever
in my mind.  i am
a beast drinking blood
in cold shadows.  she's on the stairs towards the gods with gold-flake mirrors on fire.
i can't be soothed by their plasma flesh pixels anymore.
i can't be soothed by their carbon copies.
i will soon be below their real for good.
in need no more of the soft same semblance displayed on the shelves.
i swim in deep pools collecting aloneness on high. the
romantic disaster laughter is muted. these days i can't
help but feel, every now and then,
that death
is
a great kindness
in disguise,          but

not in the
way you
think.

"This is a collect call from: 'Darlene Ryder', at the Nielsen County Sheriff's Department, press '2' to accept charges and be connected."

beep

"hello? Bill?...you there?"
"**** Darlene, how many times we gotta ******' do this?!", he threw his voice at her through the phone like a fastball wrapped in firecrackers.
"I dint do nuthin' wrong! they jus got sumpn' against me s'all!"
"uh huh, the **** d'you do, huh?
"the ***** had it comin', I was jus tryin' to have a few 'n relax then she come 'n talk 'bout how I was lookn' atter funny but I watn't- I was jus mindin' my own talkin' to Charlie. So all's I need from you is to get yer lazy, belly-picken', beer-guzzlin' hole fer a face down here and unpinch this ******' mess!" and hung up the receiver on her end of prison.
      The guards shoot each other a look then raise their eyebrows.  They'll be recounting this over beers tonight beneath the monstrous glow of 47 90" TVs in between attempts at the waitress young enough to be their daughter.  They'll shovel in the wings of a total of 18 birds drowned in hot sauce and butter before the sports bar stops feeding them.  Then they'll all drive home drunk with hot breath and testosterone like molasses, ending their nightly routine with their ***** in their hands and their pants around their ankles drooling at tiny glowing screens.  
      Long live the American gods of New Olympus.

all the
great religions
of the world
are ships

i am more
interested
in the
ocean