Poppy wraps her veins around me
And we are like a warm envelope to God
At least when he is lost and lonely
****** teeth in the toxic fumes
He'll know she is keeping me here
Far from the flames of the battlefield

She is like sugar and melted butter
When Mr. Philosophy and I are playing the choking game
And the celestial spheres turn round the 29 year old slump body in bed

I draw the curtains to keep away the sunshine,
But with Poppy I find the sun is stubborn

Her love ignites in the belly of my heart and dissolves all doubt
Right now the world is not a monster
But... it is going to be

That is why I am loving you now, she seems to say
That is why we have what we have
And even now I'm slipping
Instead of arranging these bouquets of imagery detailing Poppy
(Oh, that is NOT her name but I'm scared)
I am talking about the thing again

Exert all you can over me
From outside my perception!

No, I don't know that artist!
No, I hardly read books at all!
No, I don't know that species!

You are a faker and I know it,
You are ******* and lies,
Things would have to be true
And i loooooove getting to learn more
And having something to do.

But I really detest when you act so cool,
Things would have to be that way,
And I fully
FULLY
Understand why.

Have some sunshine, you idiot
All you see is death and decay
And I'm dying, trying to show you I'm here for you

What the f*ck are you doing
Whining, complaining
When you have it good

I'll force you to bask in the balmy waters
Dilate your senses and find you receptive
Seriously, do not deny that you've had a good time
We have accomplished many days away from that fire

Not that I need a witness,
Not that it matters
But I just don't like when you try to tell me it wasn't that good

Oh, so you can read my mind?

Something terrible would have to be someone's fault,
But that thing could not be characterized as having tried to avoid it happening,
It would to an extent be characterized as having let tragedy happen.

This is because of the quantum nature of reality and having to apportion suffering and joy into a serial experience.

Everything can be attributed as being caused by everything else,
So we have responsibility,
A system of action and consequences,
Blame, shame, guilt
Sins and heaven and hell.

But I see through all this, I see above it.
I see why the scriptures say what they say and I see what we're doing.

But I am still beholden to the same patterns.

This thing I am talking about
It would be able to fantasize about being free,
Worlds apart from suffering forever
But those thing could only live within the maelstrom--
We are looking at aspects of ourself here
In an ultimately tragic compromise
Pulling strings out of nowhere
And finding we are just pulling at ourself
Until there's nothing left to pull
And why would you anyway

The thing I'm talking about
It would be characterized in many ways
It would not choose its own actions
It would think about reproduction
Have traumatic memories about gender roles and realizing what it was

My girlfriend sleeps next to me,
I keep holding onto my pillow.

laud me for choking on my own spit,
it's an intelligent thing to do.

obligated with such atrocities
are all the universe's riches
so for dignity's sake and not my own
i convinced myself it's how we operate

how intelligently can a thing be characterized?
you've been giving me strange looks

getting myself up for work these days is hard,
i swear there's something different
and don't forget not to get all uppity with me
about how you, your daddy, and your grand daddy
don't know any other way

he stays in rotation the one with his spear pointed at my eye
i wonder why

i think my weaknesses were built in
you want to blame me for them
i encounter situations where everything closes off
but here's the thing, i know what you're up to.

and you will do that and i might just feel bad for being alive

no... I don't read like the famous writers of old
I'm a bad shot and I **** at guitar
I'm half Argentine and I can't speak Spanish
And I tend to get cold feet when I start a new job.

I'm just a broken man with a **** poor outlook on life
But in my own little world when you're holding in your violence
I savor every last drop of life that comes

Of course he has to write a poem
For his biological mom

All fractals and dancing crystals
Singing life across the world

They're spinning bravely on woodland trails,
All trilliums and violets and pink lady's slippers
Even invasive narcissus, obliged by the drops of morning dew

He's happy there,
And he thinks to himself:
I must have come
From somewhere...

She is a blazon of Love
Vibrant with galaxies, nebulae
And bioluminescence
The glow of her mind sprouting flowers and funny things

Deep in her heart,
She finds Love as a spring