there's something supremely wonderful
at the end of that ridiculously long line
be patient

in March the sky is cobalt blue
in August it's haze is the hue of slightly ***** water
a non-color, really
learn to appreciate them both

put an NRA sticker on your apartment door
even if you're a pacifist
trust me

remember, chances are
you will die in an earthquake bigger than Haiti's
or sizzle in a brushfire más caliente que Hades
or perish on the smog with your stupid lungs that don't breathe
with one of our 3.858 million
love thy neighbor

if you happen upon
some people making love in the park
it's perfectly OK to stare
everyone is a performer

learn
Spanish.

I’m drowning into thoughts of my imagination
lost within a sea of roaring waves all around
filled with swimming memories shaded gray
each screaming to be heard, but not emitting sound.


My eyes hone in on secrets when words play a wrong tune.
They narrow just a sliver into the depths of what is true.
The sand grinds hands and knees as I push myself up
Though I have not been here, this place I already somehow knew.


The palm trees sway swiftly in a breeze of blue,
the frawns whipping wrestlessly, whispering to hurry.
But I have no fear now, these thoughts can not consume me
my balance has become steady now, therefore I have no worry.

this isn't a poem
unless you read it

this isn't art
until you see it

this isn't life
until you breathe it

so don't go to a coffee shop expecting to work;
because the hand that feeds will SEIZE a dose of life NEEDED.

elotes jingling ringing by
ponies munching grass
inevitable sticky arm
pointing to the sky
watching Cooper's pass

buses exhale noxious fumes
singing greasy axle tunes
grainy walk beneath our feet
offers something more than supple street

something more than supple street
something more we can't defeat
a burning penny in blue-tile sky
a charred lily in our green water supply
a pyroclastic flow of people
i'd love to meet
i'd love to meet
i'd love to meet