Like Paper cuts do.

I guess I wanted to know.
But I knew.
How so.
I mean...I guess that's how I always felt.
About those eyes.
Peering from across the room.



Garrett Johnson.

Perpetual Evening.

Car door.
Street light.
Your Lips.
Never felt better.



GarretT JohnsoN

The Fall.

Trees out my window.
So barren and chipper.
As if I could almost taste the death.
Taste their eyes on my person.
Their wraithing edges.
Their aging systems welcoming like *****.
Splatters.
Across all fronts.
To conjure the oh so sweet milk of air.
The dusty platitude of forgiveness.
Sight the faces so smug.
So lucrative.
So tiny.
As the weaving sits bined.
And the yellowness unwindes.
Trees out my window stand gladly.


Garrett Johnson.

Process in weariness.

Peanut butter and jelly.
Ice and drool.
Duck tape my eyes.
Alex, yeah she's cool.
Always alone like Constantine.
Ol Johnny boy.
I think I'm gone.
And very annoyed
I didn't think I would leave.
I didn't think so.
I didn't know how to complete.
My rowing team...Oh.


Garrett Johnson.

A little grey.

Why.
Don't shut it out.
If feels of eternity.
Again n again.
The grooves.
From the hips.
Left still.
In vigorous thought.
Around the eyes.
Around it all.


Garrett Johnson.

Oh does she.

Last step.
Shirt caught.
But she doesn't care.
Boots.
Through mud.
But she doesn't care.
Eyeshadow.
Looks up and down.
But she doesn't care.
Hair.
Blue.
And.
Brown.
But she doesn't care.
Sweater rip.
I help.
But she doesn't care.
But then she cares.


Garrett Johnson

Spotted Dust.

Side walk mistress.
To the curb.
Bile be the word for low and.
No high to leave with.




Garrett Johnson