nudge, nudge

you wake up,

pupils running
circles around
your eyeballs
till they get tired

collapse
at the bottom,
near the eyelid

and then your
mouth creaks,
opens like the
door of a basement

a yawn peeks
out, up
and at 'em

the dawn lulls
you back to sleep

I could be in bed right now.

Under the sheets where it's safe;

like the tongue resting firmly
between teeth; presumably
the gaping mouth of
a banshee.

I could call it an early night.

Dream of you, and the
effervescent hell
betwixt those thighs.

I could do
many things;
and yet, it still
would not suffice.

It's safe to say,
'coulds' should
be deleted from
my lexicon.

it was
another saturday night
they stood by the door
like vultures above
the carcass
hungry, their feathers
ablaze,
their tongues
swaying
church bells

the ring
so loud
it destroyed
the glass walls

they poured in,
their bodies
crashing
into each other
like waves

when one went
down, another
took it's place

after it was
all said and done

there were no words
to share, no memories
to be had

it was as if
they were born from
zeros, and went
back to zeros

where no
concept could
be formed

I enjoy the way the light
shines on your forehead
like the sun scattering
arrows across the plains
of a desert

your unwashed hair
polishes it just right,

greasy and mirror-like

Your eyes are open
wide when you scrub
your crooked teeth
with the Hot Wheels
toothbrush;

I suddenly imagine
a navy blue 76 Chevrolet Camaro
speeding through
a busy-body city
with empty shoddy buildings
like it's the end of the world

Then there's the sound
of liquid crashing like
waves inside a tiny
tunnel

You turn off the light
and lay in bed next to me

'Your breath stinks,'

you say as you push
me to the side to make space

Groggy old me agrees;

you're just
as bad when it's
that time of the month

but I don't say anything

because I know how bad
it can be

How do you spell your own
name without falling over
backwards? Desperate
to piece a Self together,
as it simultaneously unravels;

the floor is muddy
with wants, needs,
likes, dislikes

"I'm not that
kind of person"

leaks from the mouth
like gasoline from
an open sore
of a brand new car

And we limp
forward, as though
our souls were
built upon stilts

This is a good start,
mind you,

Because without
the trouble you don't
have the nightmare
and without the nightmare
you can't have a world
full of suffering, and without
the suffering...

There is no meaning

behind your name,

no sticky blue
plasma that emits
personality rays

Oh, you know,--

That poor ole thing we call

a soul.

I open up the UberEats app,
order two lattes from Brian's Brew
I wait, every now and then
I check my phone to see what time it is

Time, you're silly

I wish I could slap
you back to where you came
from

I wipe my eyes, the dust from
the lids sprinkle my cheeks
like sugar crumbs on
a cake yet to be baked

Space, can you be a darling
and bring all of our hearts
closer together?

I just want an earthquake to shake
things up

Still, I sit here and wait
outside on the patio,
or inside on the couch
watching re-runs of Jerry Springer

Internet, can you supply
the world with more mysteries
rather than answers to questions
that haven't been asked yet?

It will be okay, but it won't
really

Opening books, scribbling
on white cloaks, and tapping
on keys are all I know,

millennial disease,
I suppose

I wait, listen for
the knock on the door

it doesn't come,

I don't bother with
anything anymore...

Oh, memory,

will you just stay with me?

Even if for a little while..

don't mind
the burning
red eyes,
or the tears
streaming
like exhausted
snakes

down my cheeks;

I'm just here,
waiting (with
clenched fists
and trembling
ribs)

for your

sweet kiss
goodnight

It was mid-August,
maybe later, when I developed
feelings for my best friend.

I think I knew
when I saw that
the trees in the
backyard were dying;

they stopped producing
oranges, their leaves were
soggy, pitiful trinkets.

It was the day after
I stopped believing in Santa;

my mother saw it on my face
when she turned around
and offered me toast bread.

I usually ate bread with my
oatmeal, but the spoon
was still on the table;

the oatmeal still in the bowl.

She asked me what was wrong
and I shrugged. I wanted to say
I was in love.

I wanted to ask if being in love
always felt this terrible; I didn't
care to go back to school, nor
study, nor become the doctor
they wanted me to be.

But that's when my father came in.

I was sent upstairs
to my room, and was told
to memorize the fifty
states.

In between reciting their names,
I could hear my father yelling
over my mother, and my mother
choking on the words, don't leave.

I could feel myself choking too.

So I walked to my window
and saw the dying orange tree;

then I thought of my friend

and how I'd like to play

with her again.

I.. I..

I.. Honestly didn't think it would get this far.
I thought I had meant it when I said I was in love.
It was only a week, but that's all I needed.
I felt I was right and finally belonged.
So why does my heart say it's all wrong?

My father said my heart
has no tongue, and that
the gut speaks all the words;

He told me to trust it
first and foremost;
command me not to give in
to this wolfish urge.

But when I see you get off the
bus and walk towards your door
I focus intently
on the scars across
your arms; they remind me
of the congruent shapes
on mother's favorite
curtains.

I.. I've thought so much
about this.

Forever was an hour in your embrace;
it was the sound you made
when I plunged into
your ocean; causing
a thousand and one waves.

You moaned my name,

Moses, and

you were the deep red sea

all over the cloud 9 mattress.

I'm in love, tell me it's so, and
I won't question it ever again.

Ever since I fell into this
cave, I've noticed

The night

isn't as black

as I first thought it was.

You got a purdy
face; hidden behind
the veil of naivety;

it's a round,
oblong shaped
distraction

Something tells me
you haven't shaved in days,
the whiskey smell still lingers,
and your favorite rigged chips
have left stains

on the couch, on your
only white t-shirt;
nothing but crumbs
all over the carpet

Rent is due,
your face will pay the bills;
it writes the checks
with ruby red lips;

and your body
drags itself like a carcass
just to keep up

I've been handed new lives to live,
multiple perspectives, laser-like attention spans,
kaleidoscope vessels, an ****
of acute senses;

all at my disposal; I am free now.

But every now and then
a freedom is challenged
by another sentient being,
dependent, under developed;
a weak and vulnerable specie.

We're as one,
thinking tanks at war,
on our own;
the bee
and the honeycomb;

Health is only a
decoration; our insides
a personal labyrinth

a complex tomb
if you will;

and will you shall.

I am ushered in
like a corpse
full of science;

a personal example displayed
only in public;

The reality and it's
magic;

the distracting
sense of self;

and the absolute
breathing project.

We're free now,
let's enjoy this
enslavement while we can;

While we're
still sinking
in fruit.

Where do we stand?

We're like a couple of broken DNA strands.

Your mother left you when you were young;
you were this tall, barely a know it all, and your body
grew thinner and thinner as they days went by.

Do you often dream of the night

I dragged my fingers across your ribcage?

It tickled you into adulthood.

I sawed you in half
held you down until
you cried for me to stop.

Limits weren't my specialty in those days.

But you asked, no,
begged to be torn apart;
said limbs were for soldiers
and dolls.

How right you were,
with two elbows and
kneecaps edged into the
wood floor.

Now were do we stand?

As we lay like bags without sand.

I await your response.

i woke up today
just to cry myself
back to sleep

i thought about the world
but in pixels and tones

the wheel of color
spun and spun
until it washed
my dreams in gray

and i sank like
a cloud of smoke
into an old woman's
mouth

i stood among others
and noticed their
shoulders were being
pulled by strings, and their
knees clanking like
aluminum cans
in their faded denim jeans

i laughed a little laugh
and felt a tear roll down my cheek

a hand crept out of the shadows
and swam in my creek,
told me it would be alright
and that i should get back to sleep

and so i did, but then
i dreamt i was alive

and the glory of God
had shown me the way

i was overwhelmed
with worry, wasn't
i born to one father?

and what of mother?

these two creatures
sit like ravens on their perches;
cawing for my return but i did
not look back; for i know
what their feathers have in store for me

i speak in a human tongue:

let you go i must, i say;

as though speaking
were much like guiding a small
part of heaven through
bitter soil

let's leave here, i say
to my love, let's become
better

and my eyes
shut forever, my mind
no longer a seeking missile
desperate for a target,

but like a thread
guided by a compassionate
hand, i am woven

into the fabric

of forgiveness

the chaotic movement
behind the bushes
of my neighbor's front yard

the yelps of a dear
caught in the headlights,

she pleads
for the flesh
to sink down
to the depths

where no man
dares tread

the moon shines
upon bare backs
like the dead weight
inside the flask

two pour into
one

and the hush
comes quickly;

sweeps the night
off it's feet
and lays it to rest

by the curb

or bed;

much like the face
of a newly wed
into his or own
hands.

It won't be long, darling,--
till you're back in my life
I know we ended things
on bad terms,

You rented my face
out to a couple of
black eyes;

Told me rent was due
and tore my body in two,

Said it would be better
if I never left the house
and stayed home;
playing nurse to you
and me all day long

I was in the wrong,
so I turned to alcohol,
my acoustic guitar
and started writing songs

After what seemed like
better days rather than
bitter moments, you brought
home someone new,

A skeleton she was,
but you assured it was
just for a few months

What say did I have in the matter?

Night after night,
I could hear you both
groan and murmur
like the walls of
an old mansion;
and every now and then
a ghost would moan
and I'd bury my head
into my knees and sink
further into the darkness

I wanted out,
but it was now
two against one,

and so my body
was contorted, bent
and bruised;

I was the poor
man's exorcist

It wasn't till you both
started fighting, decided
to get married and have
a honeymoon in Hawaii

did I realize that something
terrible was growing in me

I sharped everything
I could find in the house,
knives, razors; hell,
even turned a child's
bat into a vampire's
worst nightmare

and when you two got home,
I let you have it,

the walls still speak
of your silly antics,

mortal
and futile,

as though you were
born insects but
took the form of
strong, confident humans

I put an end to all that
at a moment's notice

I'm on the run now,
but I know deep down
it won't be long till we meet again

You'll be back in my life, darling

and that's a promise

Your night resembles
a worn piece of cloth;
I watch as it flies
in the midnight air;

I am reminded of
the American flag

and a sigh leaves
my body, as it has
so many times before

This is a life
worth leaving

The bones
no longer feel
like stones;

The flesh
ignores the desires
and wishes
of it's owner,

The mouth
tangoes with
the tongue
leaving the
words tangled
in knots

Let me wither away
as most tangible objects do

Be it on a hospital bed,
behind an alley way,
or with my fiendish
friends

We'll cross paths someday
and you'll clutch the purse,
I'll cross the street, we'll
keep to our own sick,
sad devices

and wonder if
it would've been
better had we
never been born at all;

except I would've
got it all wrong;

mistaking your
frown for something profound

Disappointment
reigns heavy in
the hearts that fear
failure

pardon me
for peeking
into your window

i was just admiring
your Christmas tree

it's very beautiful

i like the oriental
ornaments; my favorite
one is the the rainbow
colored candy cane
swinging like
an iridescent icicle

don't mind me,
nor the ***** rags
i'm covered in

i'll be on my way
once the snow settles

You were looking through my recent Google search history weren't you?

That's fine. I predicted you would.

You see what I want you to see;

Those iceberg eyes sink deep into me,
and the anchor is all this misunderstanding.

There was never any trust to begin with.
No real love. At least not like the **** we consume during
our daily binge watching. So drama ensues; the only thing we can count on. It turns the pale skin walls into crimson red curtain calls. Threats to leave fill the midnight air. Someone falls down to their knees, prepared to crawl. There are stains of tears that plague the carpet floor. *****
on the piano tucked in the corner of the living room. It's a coffee-caramel coated body that's seen bitter days. How sweet things were
before the necessary change.

We're still here aren't we?

There are fools that believe it grows on you;

I don't think so.

one just gets used to how awful it all really is.

i brush my teeth;
gargle and spit it
towards the sky

if i close my left eye
and squint with the right
i can see our astrology
signs align

i feel you next to me,
nudging against my tumor,
relaxed i submerge myself
in Arabic

there is no pain here,
no past hurts to haunt
the rest of my days
on this earth

and so i bring you
in closer, more closer
than i have ever brought
anyone

and with that,
comes the almighty
fear of God

i pray that we love
each other like
we loved one another
centuries ago...

never mind the
bullocks.

'My heart is weak'
he says to his loved ones;
his back turned, shoulders
heavy and neck
loosened

He hangs his head
in shame, and the
mouth follows
with one long drop

'This heart
is a jar filled
with pennies;
trinkets of days
gone by; no love,
no, not for any of you'

They listen as
carefully as they can;
while managing their
own disappointments
and failures; with
their hands tied
behind their backs,
they can only do so
much

'Son, we have
no gold to bequeath
upon you, no diamonds,
no silver, no fortune
to behold,

--forgive us'

No one stirs;
the earth rumbles,
it's belly starved
of bodies

'So it shall be done'
he says to himself;

and this, they all
quietly agree upon
with great regret

His father left the earth
the same way;
and now there
will be one less mouth to feed

20 minutes before midnight
strikes, the heart is racing
for it's dear life

you're standing on the side
of the road
watching me
run away from my
problems

The rats cling to the
streets, their bellies
full of spite
for the uprights

A shadow takes in
all the detail
from outside
the light

Holy, as it were

Holy, as it shall be
forevermore

My head
rests on the desk;

I pretend it's the *****
of my lover;

and I weep,
and weep,
and weep,

until the
scar riddled wolf

is ready to eat.

Speaking of...

Loosen up the bowls,
body tremors are normal;

get the shakes, pass them
around for goodness sake

Ear plugs, wear them
when the voices start to
arrive;

don't worry
your head about it,

they
were invited

You don't understand
when it comes to laying
around the house

like a carcass you rise
up with fists, six feet
deep in the misunderstandings
and commitments

Sound the alarm,
it rattles a sweet
little tune, something
like a warning,

or better yet,

a future full of prospect

*** in your hand
and smear it all over
the plastic spirit

Do your best

to trust yourself,

lover.

Okay, we started off on the wrong foot. Wrong foot. Is that saying relevant anymore? After all, you're 20 years my junior; and I'd like to form a connection. We're into the same things, you know? I enjoy The Walking Dead, too. Did you know there a few video games based on the series? Of course you do -- you have an Xbox One. I bought one for my daughter last Christmas. She's about your age now. I think she'd be fond of you. I'm getting ahead aren't I? I didn't mean to. It's just that I like you. Am I being too pushy? I'll go...

He lays on the couch
his gut peering
over the valley
of camo shorts;

He yells for a beer.

No one comes.

So he tries to get up
but in doing so,
knocks over the
small folding table;

Yesterday's dinner follows.

It's a new problem to fix.

But easily avoidable
(for the moment)
with internet ****.

Google Browser Incognito
flares up. His wife will come home
in half an hour. Gotta finish soon,--

before she cleans the entire mess.

rewind
be kind, i haven't been
so
to others or myself
we are one
behind this teal
veil;
but rather,
i stay bottled up
in a grimed shell;
let's dance,
shall we?
to music unseen,
our hearts soaring
without wings,
but instead
riding upon
the air waves
of compassion

one day, i won't be
here anymore,--

the breath will have
subsided, and my body
given to the coast guard
for safe keeping;

what of my soul?
the mind struggles to
answer this ever-fleeting
riddle by complicating
matters worse: accumulate,
compete, and compare

meanwhile
the smiles, the frowns,
the lips aligned
in parallel design

play like an instrument
behind the curtain that is
the flesh

and what the flesh
desires, it desires
in droves

i hear my mother
in the background,

screaming something
about how i'll never
amount to anything

but she's long been
dead; and what remains
is a dear old friend

those faithful lines of
hers always keep me in check

they dot the i's
cross the t's

i handle all the rest

but let's
rewind, shall we?

be kind, what of that child
who never got much attention
or nourishment?

surely he's still around
here somewhere; waiting
in the shadows to be called
forth, with words such as:

'come out, my friend. no need
to be afraid; death will take us home
some day, but for now

we awake, we live

to love one another'

because I believe
we are birds of a feather.

here, let me buy
you a Mexican coke

don't worry, i got
a bottle opener
somewhere in my bag

found it

see,
there you go

don't worry,--

tastes good doesn't it?

welcome, my friend

to America

Can I be honest witchu 'ere?

I don't trust ya boy, Jakoby. He's been sniffin' around places that don't need no sniffin'. Roy's been tellin' me he's been doing the same thing there too. Coincidence? I think not, my friend. I'm just doing youse a favor and relaying this concern of mines. Did you know he slept with Tom's sister? The one with the wheelchair and weird teeth? I don't think she can even see straight. Her eyes are all cross eyed. I also heard he put his dilly in Holly, Greg's old cousin that's been livin' with his family for years. And she's not right in the head either. He's got something for them 'tards. Maybe his parents aint raised him right. They's was never around for him, poor guy.

Ditch the punk if you know what's good for ya. I'd hate to see something happen to your girl, or, you know, you.

Just sayin' is all.*

- ****

I as in *******;
year's worth of body coursework;
four seasons
of education

Mind wandering;
frustration of the Inguina

Liquids expanding,
collapsing, rising,
falling

action upon action
between two bodies

I as in wake up
tomorrow, alone
in an empty room

filled with tiny silences;
an open space mass;
atoms the size
of wet noodles

Inhale this lust,

mate, breed,

open mouth surgery

I as in can't take much more
death is calling;

carry on this legacy,
a past riddled with scars,

bequeathed upon your innocence

this agony.

I want to be kissed by a small
wounded animal. I long
to have bullets graze
past my chubby cheeks.

I'm too busy
looking away
instead of focusing
on what is right
in front of me.

I want my belly to be filled
with Death's babies; and for
my hair to grow long and
spider-like.

Blanket me in a thousand blacks.

Pixelate my entire soul and transfer me
through the infinite circuitry.

I am Image
and Image is legend.

Bundled up in dry words
of a snowstorm day dream;

I reap all that is beautiful;

it's definition not so definitive

anymore.

I got a wonderful pal
and don't think I mention
him enough;

he's a tiny creature
with a big,
******, beating
heart.

We hardly,
if ever,
see eye to eye
on things;

but it's never too long
before we kiss and make up
(and for the record
they are the best
kisses,
bar none)

If I wasn't so
caught up in the
wild throes
of the brain;

I'd live like he does,

present and care-free.

I got a wonderful pal,

and I love him so.

she's
got a tattoo
of the alkaline
trio logo;
the heart
and skull
by the crease
opposite of her
elbow

she does acoustic
renditions of
90's punks songs
in the backrooms
of cafes around
the shady parts
of town

i'm not a fan
but an innocent
bystander

pierced by
bullet
and blade

hands cupped
over my ears
pleading
for the sound
to finally fade away

i just work here
and can't
handle it anymore

i get called
an *******

but i can live with that

Oh dear,
what was the word he used to
describe me?

The crack in the sky,
like some kind of raw
nerve endings of a
lost family tree;

It started with the
letter B, and a few of my friends
throw it around like it's round,
soft, and precious to hold

But it's the first thing
you call someone who
wants you to let go

My dear,
there is a mouth
half opened, as though
it were built for a hand
to clasp it;

there is a body
left for dead, it's arms
outstretched like
the antennas
of an insect;

Jog the memory;
what word did he use
to describe me?

A lonely face
shouldn't have said nothing;

Just stay a shut-in;

forever outspoken.

eliminated from the team, refracted
from the equation, put in a bird
cage, flimsy construction
paper soul pressed against
the lips of a thousand blades

vibrating like soil
under the weight
of a nameless stampede

floating away, a distant
but fond memory,

tired of living,

exhausted from trying

let it come naturally...

breathing the sharpest
daggers, open arms for
cruel, sick jokes;

embrace the absurdity;

sleep upon nerves
shot to hell, welcome

the worst of thoughts;

like wicked flames
burning from a holy
candle;

a wick lead by temptation;
fueled by innocence

the tiniest speck
against the giant
wave of grain that approaches...

open eyes that see nothing at all...

but an accompanied mouth
to claim such things exist.

The pistol is on the desk;
the dog tilts her head;
someone is at the door
and it isn't her master

A car passes,
and the street lamps
light it up like
a torch;

it rumbles past
the house, and a
window is shut

The feet of darkness
press upon the floor;
dogs can be heard in the
distance; their masters
asleep, dreaming
the American dream;

their children
in love with
the children of others

A television hums
a late night lullaby;

and the fans
sway back and forth
hissing at the callous
feet of laborers

A loud noise cuts
the day in half

Now the moon peeks
above a cloud
to investigate the sound

Much like the animals,

it's indifferent to the violence
and virtues of others

but that doesn't stop anyone

from waking up;

be it from a headache,

or another

broken heart.

You know,
i am living
between blood
and bone;

a little swimmer
suddenly so
alone

sinking deeper
and deeper
until the unknown
is home.

And i stay here
as you breathe
out there;

because one day
i believe this will
all make sense,

one day
i'll have my riches;

spoiled rotten
right down to
the core.

Nevermore,
you caw;
my muscles
tied in knots;

knock, knock

my brain rattles,
rattles, until
it tips over
and falls.

We were here
all along,--

except i prefered
to stay lost.

You know,
I am stuck
between blood
and bone.

I do my best not to age you
beyond your wonderful years. Your skin
stretches far and wide. Your belly
has no end in sight;
and it's in the way you
move under such dim light that has me
wondering if questions are worth answering;

I wonder if these feelings
are worth doubting.

What are bodies,
other than lonely spaceships
without aliens?

You're my favorite stranger,
my kind of danger; the blood
that boils deep in these veins.

Is that not living?

I do my best not to shape you
past your immaculate form. Your mind
is a curious device; your brain
contains no stop signs;
and it's in the way you moan
my name through telephone wires at night
that has me wondering if questions are worth answering.

I wonder if these feelings
are worth doubting.

You're the settle of taut
muscles; the easy ***
and difficult to let go.

Can I say anymore
that hasn't already been
said out loud
and in secret?

No one tells ya
that love is a risk.

Love? You ask
with pursed lips,
that smooth one
eyebrow lift;

quizzical, indeed you are.

I am reminded of my 2 year old kid.

She's always asking questions.

It's been figured out, I say.
Everything. Just search for the answers on the internet.

But it's never to your liking

is it?

You get one, two, three,
four million answers to choose from
you can agree, or disagree
or vaguely do either;

and not
much of it will make a difference.

So is that why she asks
for a bed time story every night?

Not the one where the princess
is saved by the knight, or the one
where a group of guys take
on the witch of Ice, or the one
where the lover dies and the hero
destroys the villain
only to replace him in the end.

She likes the one
where love is simply a risk
between one, two, three, four million
strangers, and you can laugh, or
cry, or do both at the same time.

It's what you want for yourself
that makes all the difference.

He lays on the sidewalk;
tired, destitute, and most of all
lazy; deprived of any and
every effort possible.

'Spare some change?'
he says, and his voice
rises, and lingers
in the air like the dust
between his fingers.

He's talking to no one;

Many no ones;

No ones in suits, no ones with headphones
on, no ones with their heads glued to their cellphones;
no ones who are going nowhere,
and who got nothing going on themselves.

Or so he thinks.

A child walks by, her hand
in her mother's and she smiles at the man;

The man smiles back and raises his cup;
the change rattles and stops; the sun hits the copper;
it reflects off her blue eyes and she puts her
arm and hand up like shield.

He frowns and mumbles
something like the B word;
or so the child thinks.

She pulls her hand out
of her mothers and runs to the man,
and he raises the cup once again,
but before he can shake it at her,
she kicks him right in the shin
and runs back to her mother.

He doesn't bother to get up;

Stupid no one, he grumbles.

She turns her head and sticks
her tongue out, then smiles back
at her mother;

suddenly her hand is squeezed in
some kind of death grip;

she sees that
terror has seized
her mother's face.

I was so young. Just born fresh really. My flesh was as tight
as it could manage itself around me. Somehow
this attracted your gaunt wrinkled fingers; your corroded bones
found their way into my new home.

You tickled until you found the right spot,
and then you prodded until you drowned out
the stops.

You made a holy body
laugh it's way back into the womb.

Who knew safety
was never real? And yet
it would be worth more than
the King's jewels, Made in China gadgets,
and hell,--

God?

You took every intimate secret and made it public.
Shoved a black crystal into my heart, like a child
stuffing a cube into the star shaped gap; positioned
it just right so that every horror would
reflect from any light.

You penetrated the silence of night
and the pleasure you inflicted with ease
lingered for life.

The sweet and subtle pricking
caused ripples that would prevent
me from ever being truly satisfied.

To hell with your lovely disease;
your seductive ways in resuscitating.

Your plague shadow
remains a smeared blotch on the wall
of my humanity.

I take my hand out of my pants
and bring it to my nose. I take
a whiff of the goodness
that is a hard day's work;
something is working hard
and it's got my girl's name on it;

My crotch and I are close
we've named each other after
the stoic philosophers,

I am Zeno of Cilium

and it goes by the name
Marcus Aurelius,

pompous *******, I know,

right?

We get along, some might
say we get along
too well

because we hardly
if ever, say goodbye
to one another

and instead bask in our
own joy, as though
God himself
erected such a
work of art

At night
it pulls me closer, and
whispers to my ear
it's almost time to release
the Kracken,

I say, that was before your time,
sir,

you got it all wrong.

Don't you mean,

liberate the sea men?

After work
I come home from a
half hour bike ride;
I don't count
the miles,

why bother?

As I place my bike
against the bookshelf
I have yet to organize

I overhear people
in the kitchen;
loud like the engines
of trains on a sunny
day in Arkansas

They're talking
about *****,
the tips
of *****

nuts;

blurry waves
of cosmic notes
against the sheets
of empty space

This is what we do
with noise when
our brains
fill to the brim
with symbols,
concepts, ideas
and worries

Do we have
real control over
our tongues?

How they click
and cluck; lash
like bullwhips
against the back
our teeth

As though
they are in a hurry
to get our mouths
to turn the
thoughts into

daggers;

sling them wherever
and hope they
hit a target;

any target will do

The bed is like a mug full of
***** fog I drink in.

Before I wake up, it dribbles
off my lip
and after I go to bed
it softens the blow
of living without
it during the day

It's a fading mist,
and I'm a lost ship
tossing, and turning,

in all it's glory.

******,

I forgot to tell you goodnight

I was too tired to open my mouth

too exhausted to form a thought
but many thoughts came on later
that evening; I was worried
you might get angry with my
silence

secretly harbor resentment;

retire to your dreamland
and keep me outside
the pearly white fences;

I'd whimper to come back in;

and I'm sure

you'd hesitate
(like you always do)

before unlocking the gate

and welcoming me
into your garden of good graces.

What's important?

I failed to see that today.

Instead of enjoying myself,

I turned a form of entertainment
into need for validation.

My relationship comes first;

to keep that closeness, and
and love fulfilled above all.

What brings us together
shouldn't tear us apart.

It's just a game.

It's not something I'm very proud of
but I feel less guilty
when I know I'm not the only one

There are others
but I don't know their names,
I don't know where they stay,
and certainly remain ignorant of
their personal pleasures and intimate pains

We're all in this together
but on our own
in constant motion;
petrified from the tip of the iceberg
down to the floor of the unknown

Is shame real?

Or did we built this atrocity together?

Our ancestors had the best intentions

After survival, what comes next?

The rational decision making,
the fragile economy, bastardized standards
and capsizing traditions; and it's as though
we keep asking,

no,

pleading for more of it

Almighty silent search bar
answer all of my questions,
direct me through this
neon wilderness, guide me
with your fluorescent light;
north, south, and every which
way between...

I am guilty of nothing

I left living in your hands
and it's become a complicated design;
mistaken for a binary fairytale;
an illusion of flawless bells and whistles

Sign me up, an elegant scribble
like a mouth dribble, along the
dotted line

Modernity
is malnourishment
pristine

It was never something I was proud of
never something I asked for, but questioned
constantly is this right, is this wrong, is this normal
is this healthy?

Look up, look up, look up,
Define me

We're all in this together,

But on our own, as though

doors never open

and windows stay shut.

She pulls a razor
out the secret
zipped compartment
of her leather purse

Her yellow teeth,
with bits of lipstick
in between, reflect
from it's dull belly

She kisses it then
glides it down from
her kneecap to under
her thigh and pushes
it into her flesh

She flinches, her eyes
squint in ecstasy and
she feels life leaving her
from below

There's a faint smile,
followed by a sigh
of relief; a sweet
resignation of some kind

Someone knocks on the door;
they need to ***,

no, they
need to take a ****;

but she knows
what that really means

She stopped doing coke
ten years ago, after
her husband took the baby;

Now she gets a visit a two
once a month and that's
enough to be considered lucky

She leaves the razor
on the sink for the next
person;

they could use it, she thinks;

someone else has gotta bleed.

the rain came
down in torrents
i grew jealous
and sped home
as fast as i could
on two legs, two wheels
one flimsy frame

when i got there,
i was here and i opened
the door to find i had
nothing to fear

the house was empty
the windows boarded up,
and the sink leaking
as though it were
laughing at my predicament

i dug my nails into
my skin, punctured
a few loose veins
and let the blood
do it's thing,--

look pretty, embrace
the floor, and spread
like wildfire through
the cracks of the porcelain
skin

i fell to my knees
and wailed until the wolves
howled for silence
to return to me

and it did
but not without
fighting my screams

the noises in my head
refused to cease, and so
this continued on for days,
months, maybe even
weeks

until my beard grew
and sheltered me
from putting anything
in my mouth

my ribcage felt like
the talons of a hawk
clawing to get out

i wasn't me anymore;
the me she loved
and adored

instead,
i was much better,
albiet much worse
than ever before

i became the nightmare
i wanted to be

and sank in this reverie
until i could no longer
feel hunger

Once,

I spoke to myself in crowds;
a unibody with heavenly mouths,
clouds lost in air that carried serpent tongues.

I dreamt we had a child
and named her Many Moons;
she grew to be the slayer
of conquerers and the
thief to tyrants.

And in between
her coiled arms
she bore poisonous fruit.

A ***** blossoming
infernal scents of dews...

She looked like you
when you were a young illusion;
an astral image projected
by a silent conversation.

I sat to myself and pondered
the freedom of thought
with limited mental capacity;

I sat by myself
and tried lonesome on for size;
and I saw that I lost you
in all the useless things I find;
a fragmented concept
produced by a whole mind.

I dreamt we made love
while others spoke of
it's practical uses;

I dreamt you were inside me
while you surrounded me;

And then I saw the eclipse
eat itself alive.

Something tells me
you never questioned
whether or not
you have a soul
resting beneath
that blanket of
thick, moist flesh

You see, ma
never sang me
a lullaby to sleep,

and now I rest with
weary bones
and crooked teeth

as though they were
toy soldiers
marching down
the streets of a ghost town

an army of woes

and sorrows stacked
so high, you'd think
the aches were
some sort of skyrise

And on, and on
the trembles speak

shaking what was never known
but could be known

if one only
went through the proper channels.