its not like i traded up
or for that matter down
every cog still turned to the left
each lever, still up and down

it started like an episode
of ricky lake
and ended abruptly
on springer

im in the sound proof booth
judging those who stand encased
aside me
i should leave before this gets ugly

indiscretion led me here
fortitude kept me
embarrassment fed me words
and loss encapsulates all

every stitch
the joy and glee
lost to ants in a wildflower patch
it stings now

verbosity rivaled only by impetus
but quickness
if only counted in months
falls short with words

im sure there's a happy ending
a call in the black of midnight
in a letter carefully opened
through a kiss tentatively given

i crafted an exquisite note
to be sent along
to the exquisite woman that no longer deserved it.

i sat down in a wildflower patch
with an empty bottle
which gave me the courage
to roll the parchment

the ants in all their fury
held no charge against me
and the strategically buried daggers
left nothing more than an impression
on my bare feet

nor did the canals
formed by tears' errosion on the cheek
the largest tree now long dead
a landmark lost to time
a love
a partner

Zombie love becomes a thing when
You shake off zombie dust
From writing utensils and shoes
To find another groaning
Aimlessly careening
Toward a blow to the skull

Let's eat someone together
You share

go ahead
put your feet up
make sure that everything is clean
because youre going to be sitting for a while

maybe rocking
but that just depends on your style
some people get out the stress like weirdos
personally, i just like to stare in the void vacantly

this isnt going to be some run of the ******* mill tussle
what this is
THIS?
this is a marathon pit fight
this is
blood and
teeth
and
flesh ripped
and left hanging

but you still stare into the void

because youve trained your whole life for this
and ill be ****** if anyone can take it from me

so on

and even the reprieves offer no consolation
when you get to sit in your corner
focused on the set across from you
plotting the next flurry

this transcends battle to the death
this is battle-to-the-death-and-then-the-guy-keeps-punching-the-other-til­l-he-dies
yes the visceral image of an incredibly old boxer
beating a corpse
and finally passing away from exhaustion

settle in

A candle lit
In a lone new room
Flutters with my breath
As it's whispered upon a flame

And with it
With the wicks whisper
All things are transmogrified
It bends to the will of my breath

but these prayers
aren't ones to bless
you or me or the new place
they are for my own utter annihilation

or that of my ego
so that the rift it creates
between you and i and everything
is lifted, narrowed, guided away, carried upon a breeze
away
away

i was blind before i wrote this
pitch black
behind the keys i found sight
finish

not the land where we
as people
loose ourself
its finished
the arguments
the loose ends
its over
my way and yours have inexorably been enter-twined  
chuckles mean no more

and i write
and you clean
and worship moments when you lose it
and chuckle
and clean

save me
you have the coins
to place on my eyes
and you clean
and i chuckle
and it is solved

and then it isnt
and then it is
and then WE are
and then it never was

and you talk back
and i win
and you lose
and it stinks
to high heaven

my heart beats at your pace
everything around me throbs
with the patience of your rhythm
and you
like the drum major
stomp with the purpose
of creating the tone
for the crowd
playing your song
as boisterous as it is

its still a song though
sweeping and beautiful
revelatory
weep-worthy

its a song.

i never would write until the night fell
you laugh at me from the light
and every smear of honesty
betrays me
and you stand a thousand stories tall
but i have to leave my shoes
in the door way

the stars arent your eyes any more
they are only the fire
the flame that scorches my rib cage
its as though i payed a mask maker
if everything was in its right place
my reflection wouldnt seemed so skewed
remember
a lemon is a fruit

with every car parked aside the avenue
all lanes free
you can run
lumber
in the turn lane
beneath the big sign
that changes colors
that blinds you with its fascism
with its charges against you
that youre given ninety to life for

***** and beanie weenies
a cats purr
pecans
the writings of a mystic
purrs
and the mask maker
and a sneeze
then love

to stretch out
to cuddle up
to fail at cartwheels
we cant loose

i hear you cheese over the phone
every single hormone
cresting and waining
here i am
the mind of the eye
or vica verse
if you cant
then i will