if you listen carefully
to that song that you love
so much so that it brings salt
to your eyelashes
pay attention

stare directly at the sun
or into a projector
displaying a map of canada
and witness it

the luminescence
and every tone and shade
of every chroma
flashing with every blink
the liquid provides
a spectrum unbeknownst
to vertebrates
much like blood for vision

this whole house smells like pie
or should i say pies
and what does that mean
that my only connections
will be absent and myself
alone
shades drawn and space blaring
my battalion against common fear
that silence means emptiness
that curious jeer means insult
that sweet interrogation means
we will never be apart

there is no such spare part
which could bring my lid
into a snug placement
it will always shake and rattle

there is no sized slice of this
that could satisfy
the space between here
and yesterday
and tomorrow

but how delightful and sweet though!
soft and creamy in its presence
y-h i beg
save me a slice

its not filthy
its just unappealing
its just the grooves
the places between the melody
that desperately need a cleaning
the tune no longer resonates
the tone dull
and crackly
its has nothing to do with
amplification
or projection
its the source material that fails me
im no good at this
at a loss for tools
which could make completely clear
the soaring voice that is love
impassioned and dedicated
but they are contained
within the outmoded technology
wax or vinyl

it could be
though
that my table is just on the fritz

they came
slurred and darkened
angry and
with a tinge of indigence  
let me see those clothes
i pointed to the pile
on the quilt that the ex made
dig through it
i murmured
and i sank
deep within myself
though 20's era deviants kept me
above the "sunk" place

on her side
completely silent
on mine raucous
but i can identify with donning
the drab of a different era
he said as he wrote
and looked at his phone

there is nothing about us static
nothing that keeps us from
killing ourselves only to be revived
in a brand new era
or moment of slight significance

i perform this act in times legion
dressing to impress
or to convey honest slovenliness
or power
or amorousness

this task
these efforts
can never be realized
attempting transubstantiation fails
and its motive with it

with jeans and a white tee
i am this one
lonely
lost
lingering
limitless

by all means
take all my clothes
ties and suspenders too
i have what im wearing

i had to move my pitch counter
after it was lifted i reset it
0000
i never told you what that was for
but now that youre 0001
i dont think it matters anymore

it was moved to aid in the removal
of those tacky though plush covers
the pink ones with the cat
those that you harassed me over
pointed with other people and laughed
well they came off but thats not the story either

when they first became unsnugged
i found the liquid gold
small black bottle by europeans
as pure and as innocent as it could be
hiding right in plain sight
but you neednt hide when no one looks

as i held that child
and looked over my shoulder
for you mostly but him too
trimmed the rosebush and piled it
atop a smouldering heap of ashes
i knew that it would
be acceptable to sleep again
if only for a night

i swear to god im going to stop
yes ill crumple my pack
and pour out the bottle under my bed
unload the shotgun
deactivate my account
and put my pen away
not because you complain of my odor
or that i stumble too often
or that im trigger happy
or that i post like theres no tomorrow
or because the verses i author
are vile
accusatory
explicit
pathetic
needy or
inflammatory
but because the first is the best day
to trick yourself
into existing just as you should
into being someone that
a partner might actually want to be with
i can
i can do it
and if a pledge isnt good enough
im selling tickets
general admission though
first come first served
and honestly you should
get there early because
this is something that everyone
is going to want to see

ive been drawing for you all day
impermanent scrawlings on the white board
im just trying to keep my hands moving
so my students dont have to see me weep
because today its not going to be pretty
one of those hard lump in the throat ones
i would have taken pictures of them
the doodles
but you know how i am with technology
all thumbs if thumbs werent the only thing you needed
you keep coming to me in my sleep
and in a cold sweat i search the house
for your wet foot prints
and now your visage is imprinted
in orange and yellow dry erase
camera phones clicking behind me
performance art that hurts
wild and swooping gestures
leaving tracers to be erased