Bulbous eyes and gaping mouth see splayed flesh
Served on rice with wasabi, bodies naked and fresh
Bash my glass brimming with koi fish swimming
"Am I WINNING?!" he screamed so drunk on saki, a wok he'd
Swept off the counter, I floundered
And so spying asked "Why are you crying?"
Because the waitress with plaited hair quit last week?
Because you're short on rent and you're all out of drink?
Well so am I PUT ME BACK IN THE WATER!
The fodder that expects me to
Always look pretty.

Love blossoms in a thousand colors
It buds in our hearts and blooms in gestures of kindess
Petals that softly caress away tears
Envelope us in fragrance, the sweet embrace of loved ones lost

Humanity burns in six billion candles
Melting wax day by day, warming the world
So many snuffed out before their time
Some still living-dead, burnt out of compassion

A little boy asks what use are flowers and candles
They are gestures of love and humanity
Which do actually protect us from violence

we endure in these infinities stretched microscopic
where time and memory wander off topic
until even our stories done slipped into stardust
and blow away in foreign winds

trying to sail to a home that may no longer exist
the pulse of a heart in the curve of your wrist
but the only green thing I see is a sea filled with salt
they deny you your pain and say its your fault

when there’s a set back I step back and see past myself
standing on grand canyons only to think its a shelf
have you health and peace or a will to live?
I am only free when I fight and forgive.

my home is welcome all my own go foreclose the banks so dance I yell bang pots and pans play christmas music in july forget using coasters eat all the food fry marshmallows with candle lighters set off smoke detector and no one knows no landlord can find no obligation to make the bed vacuum talk in the hallway put earplugs answer the phone can I yes come go as I please never a tagalong never pretend I don't live there I will be too honest and turn off the lights I will never be quiet I will jump on the couch cushions and bounce on the bed blow bubbles in tea and make a huge mess I can have anyone over whenever I like or no one at all I will never be careful. And in my house I don't cry into pillows.

Rilled
as
  a Rose,
      Petals Painted                                                          ­    
            with Radio-waves                                        Billowing     ­       
                               amongst                   Bouquet of          Ballerinas,
                                         ­    a   Blossoming                                    Trailing
                                                                ­                                          New
                   ­                                                          stars                  Born
                                     ­                                and           Blushing
                                                             Foaming
                                                         ­           at their
                                                           ­                Skirts
                                                                ­              like
      wrapped                                                   ­ the      
up              like home,             Surf of the Sea
in her                    Doesn't it feel
     spiraling                                                        ­  Scented with
                arms?                                       of her sleeves,          warm
                     Sewn into       cotton fibers                                       cosmic
                                       the                                                              ­    latte?
                                                      ­                              uni-                         Oh,
                                                                ­          entire      verse             before
                                                          ­               our                                   we
                                                                ­                was                  grew  
                     ­                                                                 ­  She  // taller

I leave you at the bus stop
half a wake in the wake of you drifting into distance
like this morning but I cannot tell if I am half a dream
when you are away
or half a living
but I definitely feel
like I am one half

When will we ever learn
Not to love with ALL our heart
I suppose it just means
I'm a bad economist.