i leave your name
floating in the ethers
unless i see you
then its shouted

you couldnt imagine the life of my muse
her hair whips me
atop levels of down
cherished interminglings
clasped hands
SHE is the one that inspires me
not you

it wasnt about you
this time or ever
your delirium must be setting in again
if it was about you
... though it never would be
if it WAS about you

i would paint your picture
just as it should
caricature style
with sunglasses you dont need
and a bow-tie for a hair pin
something that screams
"HEY ...
are those more lighters..."

if i was writing about you
this would be differently titled
something more
....
just different

to a dusty shelf I aspire
collected among your beloved works
my spine illegible and creased
pages molded and dog eared
i rest eye level
in your drawing room

i was yours originally
as much as i was my own
no
i was written by a three greats something
a man and a woman
far removed from me now
and was lent to your three greats something
passed down to you
now found cloistered
three shelves down

as per the sensibility
of three greats aunt percy
you would expect the syllables
bound within me
to be replete with ratiocinative reminders
but my binding betrays me not
bloviative bacchanalian blabberings
are the texts contained beyond my cover
but you wouldnt know
the dust proves it

but i dont mind
purely delighted
to be covered in dander
and the skin that used to make you up
that i might be found when you need me
or that i might remain in your family
for at least one more generation
but
if you need a quick ten spot
if youre really hard up for cash
if. you. need. money.
i know a really cute used bookstore

twelve and im still standing
24 too
were lost
lost in solid black
find me bellied up
ive been taking time to describe
in shapes what our space is
doodle your visage twice
right on the back of the coaster
napkin too
arm
face of the bartender
im no longer afraid of those
who espouse depth and hooves
darkness
surely if we are between the attraction of love
then our souls touch
so close that they fuse
and i can pour you from within myself
into a cup which both bites and charms

you run from through my veins
the people that i meet like you disappoint
they tell me youre nice
but i should hate you
no repair necessary
gulp
downbeat

this one doesnt count
its on private
no one else can read it
you dont have to worry
about what ill write this time

i swear to ******* christ
i wont cuss in this one
i wont talk about you
at least not as the "******" woman
you admit to being
your words not mine
but i wont use them
i dont even agree with them
those syllables would never
spill from between these lips
guilty conscience perhaps
nah
if i can muster something like that
then you couldnt

i dont think the next lines matter
the supposed resolution...

i know that im at fault here
writing lines that point to and accuse you
on what moral grounds do i stand?
if any they are shaky

i must hold out may hands as if to surf
(i have never done that by the way)
to steady myself
and through my accusations
and through your actions
us

to use the queens plurality
we dont need this
in fact
we
we dont need
a single other thing, dingus

but you knew
and i did too
and as much as
EYE
and EWE
despise all of it
im sure
sure of it
that we can come out the other side
more willing than ready
to tackle
THE MOST SERIOUS SNUGGLEFEST

snugglefest for the win.
bi

dont get weirded out
this is safe for work
you see im entertaining tomorrow
a thorough cleaning is in order
through and through
first things first
a proper dusting
right after the coveted sharpie box
shelf comes "first"
books records bric-a-brac and all
****
ive been meaning to listen to this album
signed and everything
lets put that on for some dusting music
table turns
check
the needles effective
i can hear the shallow resonance
hmm no audio
lets unplug all the cables
check the power supply
and the pre-amp
turn it all off then on again
****
let me take this apart real quick
****
i need some parts
i need to call stanton
OPERATOR! OPERATOR!
30 minutes later im told they dont have it
WHELP
back to dusting
stepping over stanton parts
I THOUGHT I LOST THIS MOVIE
i can play it in the background
whilst im cleaning
THE PROJECTORS BROKEN
let me take that apart real quick
hope i dont get the parts
of the two aberrations crossed
that mustnt happen
wink
and then the re-framing project
and then organizing my music collection
and then just one poem
color code my closet
rewrite my resume
clip my toenails
and my nose hair
four more poems
annnnnnnnnnd
mess

"oh hey welcome, drinks are over there
just dont step on my record player"

and heres where it gets crazy smart
i tear EVERYTHING off the walls
draw all over all the stuffs
with those ****** sharpies that started it all
turn the whole ******* place
into a performance art piece
i call it
"fix it: I DARE YOU!"

i swear to god
swear it wasnt me
i was here the whole time
holding your hands
im innocent

well
now that you mention it
i might have something to tell you
**** more things than SOMEthing
i lied

ill try not to take that tone
should i whisper it
i mean i kind of need to
after all that yelling

forget i said anything
lets just act like adults about this
heres all the terrible things
puke on the page

you know,
if you ate better
you might not get so sick in the *future

That tree
The oak out front
The one indelibly tattooed on me
In full moon light
When everyone is quiet
Above all imposed virtue
Moreys
Those vanish
Comfortably in their dreamscapes
Meeting their lives love
Committing Crimes
They would never imagine 
Appropriate 
Necessary 
Fair
Or in some cases
Riding on the back 
Of an ice cream donkey
Into the sunset

In that quiet
I can see
With all certainty
Who that tree really is

Im looking into the eye of  a scowling Bowser
Two eight-limbed horns

This is the tree 
That triple dog dares me
To stop squatting
Not this front porch
Unfiltered and French inhaling
Sighing because this tree
Is shaming me with its boughs 

Leave!
It dares me
And I will
I should
So I can find 
Like the dreamers above
my life's love

i carefully cut branches from a cherry tree
its blooms in all stages
first vibrant red
buds aching to erupt
and then pinked
full, open with petals that flutter in a warm breeze
until the white comes
with age in wisdom and prepared to relinquish all
these three sprigs I weave  together
graft and plant
until none could tell one from the other


when it grew
with posture that could catch
the exhales of all the men taller than me
i clipped another branch
bigger than my thumb
and began to whittle
an instrument
strong enough to grace
with charming melody
the sweet aroma
the shade
the blossom pressings that now adorn my wall
and with each stroke
and shaving peeled
i realized that i was reaching your core
and that soon you would splinter
break even
so i got to the heart of you
and stayed there
shaving a finer point
until i could poke myself
and draw blood

its not work if youre playing
youre using all ten
but me?
me?
im doing two thumbs
what im doing
practicing being articulate
literally ornate
is so much like the melody
that you bang out with ten
the creativity ratio
ten to one and two to one
but yours is extensive
and mine
mine is too plosive
sharp
dissected
and yours lofts
and swoops
tricks the ear
and swirls

nothing pushes us this way
in this direction
not a person directs my fingers
or yours
and yet there is something to be assimilated
something to take home
a bit to stick under your pillow
the fairy will trade it for a nickle

take off that ring
its clicking on the keys
thats what we said to each other
the click gets agitating
but i tie a knot on my side burn
a ribbon really
and grin

welcome back

fancy trender
the algorithms adore me
bits and bites love me
girlfriends gush over
what i write
the promises and perjury i pour out
though other few find it fascinating
a collection of casual carousers
deeply drunk and delirious
leer and like
fumble through and follow
these wild words

which

long for your love
and admonish apathy
say something
anything at least
jovially jeer
praise pompously

i rest
with my hands on the home keys
derive inspiration
from insignificant minutia
and you read
and read
taking a break from your home row
hum drum
flaccid
"oh thats nice"
NEXT

dont read and not write
i give not two
i should say ***
but i wont
i dont care
how inarticulately evil
you chose to be
but you must write

say something
start a conversation
engage your fellow artist

what else are we doing here
if not to inspire
it was never an endeavor
to impress our friends
was it
we found this place
for any kind of outlet
a chance to give breath
to the lightening in our bottles

this is our march
on the collective consciousness
that could be called washington
london
but when we march
we hold hands
chant
sing
speak with one another
and form bonds
and that should be done here too

without those acts
we are protestant pastors
banging on pulpits
toward a parish
that no longer exists
or if they do
never say "amen"

amen

this all could have been mine
geometric shape wallpaper
and dashes, dots on my sheets
mom making my bed
smoking non-filtereds
and staring in the direction of
old globes and stuffed squirrels
posters of campuses i should i have attended

shirt no pants
no shirts
scribbling something partially worth reading
legs crossed
listening to that song for the fiftieth time
ashing on the floor
waiting by the phone for you and only you

but this isnt home
i didnt grow up here
i slept here
i embraced those who meant something
i giggled till tears
dripped into my oil paints
but even watered down they were made of use

a spring in this bed is
right the **** up my ***
springy is what they call me now
ill scrape those stickers off
a six inch blade till dawn
and i would be no closer

to those days where i cheesed
where you begged for me
where i began to loose myself
where i became less of a person
and more of a character to you all
cartoonish

no
my home is not here
and if you try to get me to own
a single element of it all
ill decry it
i know its not healthy
but i was thinking
that i could make up the difference

in my bedroom
not only with my hands on you
a gentle graze
or light and deserving
application of the pucker
but with my pen to pulp
and a gush to the world
so that a secret might
be known to us all
not just me

i waited on you for weeks
calling and cooing
frumpy fighting

i need you to know
that heros hug
champions challenge

i waited to get wet
slippery and soapy
licking lickless
wounds

you
kick up your knee
gracefully and gently
hairy horror
firsted

hey
let me lead you
up siz-zag undulations of angles
gracefully grazing
carpet
us two

darling
let me lightly place you
upon the undone bed
shovel self in
down.pillows
dreaming
of each other
sweaty

and this is where im going to break the poetic form
youve told me. and i you. you know where and how
to find me when we are writhing and flipping around
and ill pick you up off the top of that news stand again
JUST JUMP i yell and you most certainly oblige once more
and that hug
that one that i was talking about earlier
the enclosure all encompassing
will be the act that save me from the last week
the goose pimple that perk all about
will make every single shift from thigh to knee relevant
propelling ourselves skyward and floating now

come with me
i know this one place
terrific tapas

im a writer
mostly on the mirror
when you're not looking
i wait patiently
no longer soapy
but squeaky
until those curls are
being lathered and rinsed
until your eyes are pinched tight
thats when i
carefully remove myself
from the place where we two
spit on each other for fun
and while you rinse
i make absolutely sure
not to disturb
the ringlets that
give weightlessness to
our privacy
to the mat
and then forward
to the reflecting surface
to my canvas
glistening
it invites me
and i paint
single finger extended
i eek it out
it squeaks
prints against glass
this is my textual dead drop
an espionage of love
scrawled above my sink
only for you
hurriedly i escape
before you know
whats happened
before you know im not there

now you are
squeaky
and wet
and upset
that im not...
what the...
"live long and prosper"
?

waiting for you
clad in narry a single article
i hear you lament
until
a heavy sigh emits
from the tiled "bachelor room"
adjacent to mine
a half curse and
then a swoon
and then squeaks

you traipse in
naked
earthly hips swinging
fling open
and then shut
the edifice that marks the barrier
between the real
and the imaginary
you
force yourself into
the place between my eyes
and the place that knows

"brush your teeth again real quick"
you want me
but
who wants to smell
the cheapest whiskey
while you make love

obliging i shuffle off
hoping to please
my only muse
when i read
below mine

"make it so"

keeper.

regular delivery
it arrived with the standard 8 vertices
rigid and battered
******* box

i kicked it around the house
oh bout two months
maybe three
till i got sick of lookin at it
it started kicking me back
hard as hell
and right where it counts
you know what im talking about
chunking it out the window
never worked
just re-delivered
i had to sign for that *******
every time
my john hancock is all over it now

i should open it
rip back the crumpled packing tape
and just peer in

and when i did
and that rip stopped echoing
in the cave that is my room
and the moldy ***** were pulled back
the cavity was exposed
a cool gust shot up
curled back my mustache
and made me grin
like i just saw a russian blue
do a back flip

funny too
it smelled like you
sweet perfume
and that ***** drawer whiskey
i gasped and tried to **** it all in
to ghost that hit of you

i stuck my head in
to get all of it
licked the inside of the cardboard
for each last scrap

i made each fold into origami
crane
dragon
turtle
rabbit
so on

and just before i knelt down
to pray for another breeze in a box
i opened a window
and sat with my feet dangling
grinning with you all over me
sure that a wind
would soon blow up from the south
warm and loving
fragrant and laughing
to smack me
just when i need it most

she begged
dont forget about me
dont let me go
kiss me before you leave
how could i
wish i didnt have to
here
mwah

i pleaded
take me home with you
here take my shirt
come back with me
how could she
she wished she didnt have to
no
i cant

above acorns
plosive "p's"
slurred and lisped "s's"
bare feet crying out
i began
humming
what used to be called
dub
we kissed
and
as our lips vibrated
cracked and dry
pseudo-moistened with
yesterdays scent
my smile showed first
then hers
then mine again

all too easy to close
the door clanged
and with a creak
the window revealed
what i was losing

one more for the road

I paused
On the road to pick those wildflowers
Yeah I stopped
ill indignantly pluck
roaming buds for you
without warning

here
hold these

I paused then too
When I tried to kiss you
And that show was playing
Stars and septette timelines
im sorry you were saying some-thin
but look
shhhh
grab my hand

I paused
before grinned
that round-toothed smile
you so love
or at least write about

i paused to look at you
to smell you one more time
before opening the window
and then again
when the window didnt matter

when "full on" was a demand
when you asked me more questions
when we fought about our limits

ill pause
because i have to
bring you back to
we imagine
careen and just not crash

somersaults and strobe lights

were pausing
for a moment
to change each other
who COULD like this

i wont lie about it
im begging
on two knees

it started as a mean joke
i pray that it ends as no suicide letter
i mean
this poem will self destruct

pause at JUST the right second

i never pledge
i take that back
i stopped a check once
to a radio station that i really love
a breaking-all-the-molds station
i listen to NPR
like that **** is going out of style
like im going to break this milli vanilli tape
after one more blame it on the rain
im dating myself
but truth be told
i would rather buy another carton
you showed me the most life changing radio
songs that made me weep for humanity
retreat deep within myself with universal contemplation
and yet a cottonless dromedary takes the cake

around others i curse these lapses in reporting
this evening news wrap-up banter
and i fake laugh at you
or should i say with you

but i feel your pain
i tried to sell time shares
rich with fake laughter
every time i hear it
you begging for money that is
im taken back to a place
where
i was foolhardy
and manipulative
knowledgeable
anxious
and vibrant

i use those moments of nostalgia
to think of her
you know who im talking about
im looking at you RADIOLAB
IRA GLASS you arent getting away with this either
you know her
i dream about what could have been
when i was foolhardy, manipulative, knowledgeable, anxious and vibrant
and how it would be like today
if i had the guts then
or time travel now
AND
if i wasnt even any of the above

but i have her now
and we listen together
we just talk over the drive
and the sponsorship ads
oh yeah
and the international news
its just depressing
OH and the bbc stuff
i dont "get" their accent

the final day approaches
more quickly than any
chicken on a june bug
this is the first time
my great grandfathers aphorism
has resonated so deeply

i implore them
each and every one
ask me
ask me anything
i can help you embrace
what your unencumbered peers
treasure
what guides them to a bright future
and its absence in you
to something far more dismal

despite my rationalization
my soft realization
i hold out hope

for you, proprietor of un criadero de caballos
stable full and ahead by a nose
for you, avian veteran
star college running back in the end zone
for you, pop artist
changing galleries with colorful violence

its soon out of my hands
grains sliding through my grip
onto your desk
with which to build
a magnificent castle
or to blow back upon the earth

ask me anything
if i dont know we can search
for truth
and then Truth

im told times up
dont drag me out yet
let me finish this lin..........

contained within
it glistens and is illuminated
radiates from my teeth to my ocular orbs
not the sun
not the one that makes the ivy creep
or the blossom open and become fragrant
but its mistress
the sphere of the night
pounds light from beneath the chest cavity
but this derivative
compels all those like us
in the dark
to hold hands

this is the moon
my insides are worshiping
one and one without
and the one with in
like our nearest star
the love within me
is only a reflection of the truth
that one that you imbue
hold true
and fast
towards the surface within me
that is reflective

my heart is the second moon
moon two
only as it speaks to me
and me and me to you
and you reflect upon me
and i shine and enshrine
my soul is made true

i would know
when my heart sinks
im listening to one of
the six songs that you played
pulling right into the handicap
thanks for the placard
creak open the drivers side
and waft into the carcasses
beetles flown in for late spring
jangle at the door lets me know
im home
phone and off
litter in hand
sirens
not the kindly looking ones
the ones that make you shake
by hands
arms
heart
drive home to hold him
(or her depending on your mood)
but the child...
where are you
not here
as he pukes
and giggles
i dont weep for you
or his continence
for us instead
and the way you bathe
i dont need to talk
now
anymore
this is not about love
and so on
what am i to you
something trivial
dont deny it
what else would curdle my veins
love?
or this nom de plume
the response to it?

no
its how i cant be with you
its how you deny what i offer
its what i offer to all the people
     that can read
when can i expect all you offer
how soon can i cease my own denial
very soon
i hope
pick me up
carry me to the threshold
so that i might carry you
right the **** back in
i beg

the fuzz under my ****
rattles the cup near me
the base of a floor speaker
is a poor place to be undisturbed
and from my place upon
the hard wood slats
i peer through the slots
above and to the right
to view the limbs in decay

i was trying to impress you
now im only being housed
within myself and tightly
snug

it shook there above his head
all ten fingers
sweaty palm too
quivering so as to make
you do the same

sometimes thats all it takes
to make an orphan like you
burst into the tears
that only a child can cry
the gut-wrenching kind
the ones that make you seize up

that'll teach you
that will make you thankful
that your mother and father
took that midnight stroll
through the hospital
while all you and your peers
were adrift in slumber
stopped
and shot out a finger in your direction
"her. shes the one."
"i got to pick you"
he would say later
that'll teach you

who would you have been
last name calahand
wandering the contiguous forty-eight
lugging dads guitar
and waiting with a glass of milk
bellied up to the bar
with your new "uncle"
smoking someone else's cigarette
singing back up
playing tambourine

sure as hell wouldnt be here
opening up your home
your life
your heart to me
sure as hell wouldnt have cooked me breakfast
ice water
and toast
and that beer of mine
sure as hell wouldnt even know each other
or this town
this life
this love that sustains us
or at least tries to

thanks lady [insert unpronounceable last name here]

squirrels and opossums and birds of paradise
because im screaming
profanity into the trees
they can hear me scratching my sores
flaking scabs onto the crumbly floor
to integrate myself with the remains
of generations past
they can all hear me
crack the first beer of the morning
and pour it out for my love
no longer here
they can hear me all
repeat myself and pace
atop the pecan shells crunching
but the cap of the bottle spins
whirling around its rings
for a glug
and they all scutter, scamper, and waggle off
only proving my point
a terrible mood to be around

i'm glad
you hope i enjoyed it
i am still enjoying it.
a ready laugh?
a curly peek-a-boo?
reading suggestions?
music updates?
star trap?
that face she makes?
you know the one.
you hope i enjoyed it?!
no
i hope YOU enjoyed it.
ill keep you posted.

i curse myself
for the anxiety
i feel for those near
chomping
crystalline version of that
which makes us up
the cold that kills
or at least affirms death

for the stress
felt for the tears
shed
in times when i am away
or at least when
were apart
pulled in all directions
disoriented

for the swears
i murmur chilled
leaning
from the window
and the cold May breeze
blows back in
last weeks last smoke
two years ****** growth
can no more capture
the shameful smell

for the death
that arrives on my door
sandwiched
between what i need to leave
and what can open doors
door stop wedged firmly
needs to be withdrawn
call it what it is
ego

the curse
that lies between
choice observation and opportunity
im teaching myself
to ignore and adopt
curl up next to
failure finality
and future
without regret

regret?
to spit in its face
arms akimbo
nose neptunes way
grinning
and i pray
holding your hand

the only thing that i care for
i ran it off
like a tabby in a window begging for a plate of fish
like a beautiful bloom i adored
and never watered
like an open door
steaming in rays from a cresting dawn
thats slammed shut

i keep the plate out now
waiting for a menacing meow
i pour water into the ***
hoping a sprig would spring again
all the doors are open now
even the cabinets
all in vain

god.
now im living begging to be annoyed
wasting potting soil
blinded by golden pain

its now apparent
there is in my midst
one who seeks to usurp
a throne built with my own two hands

not to rest comfortably between
inlaid and intricately carved clawed feet
but to see it empty
for nothing more than the sake of watered down bloodline

yet calmly i tap toe
half impatient and watching
as a small axe hacks away a mighty oak
but not the roots

of the next growth
boughs spring forth more mighty
than the last
from which to fashion not one more but two replacements,
imperial palisades and a porch for a palace,
rocking chairs with armrests,
a mantel and mirror frame

so that we
my queen and i
can be seen together
as we should be
with no hovering specters

i used to write
the ink that dripped from my quill
formed paisley and damask on the page
syllables rose from parchment and became tangible

now its just chicken scratch
illegible drivel
carved into chalkboards with dull knives
footnotes to a glorious view

i use to draw, paint, tag
whimsical illustrations or swirly oils
on objects both dedicated and found
a distinct style all my own

but now it's all devolved
mediumless and barren attempts
glaring at a skill long left me
clutching and shivering with a brush

i used to hike
i would traverse a plane or a thicket
at altitude with all teeth showing
looking for a place to set up camp

but now i just pace
wearing a rut between the front and back door
studying a tired environment
peering out the windows

unknown entirely
not only to the throngs
but to myself as well
a shaded mustang such as myself
may never be labeled "dark"
until victory is upon me

and i plan to come from behind
from way behind
whipping a breeze along side
the champions from races past

but for no laurel
or hardy hoof shake
for only the chance to stretch my legs
lounging in pastures
has only stagnated me
but all potential must
as some point become kinetic

and here i am now
neck outstretched
teeth breaking the tape
by-standards ripping up tickets
because i was the last one
supposed to win

the first word that i received from you
when my eyes cracked apart
"hatred"
between hatred and "no"
no was the beginning of the last things
there was a flurry of expressions that reminded
me of you
the real you
all things that we only whisper to each other
like a sting of cartoon hearts
"tell me youre alive"
"i hate your guts"
"secret telling sessions"
"lord father god"
but that wasnt you today
you were that overly independent
woman who
holds my hand when she wants
only to beat me in private
you dont get to pick
when you have someone
like you have me
i have no on off switch
i stay on
this is no co-dependence
this is me relying on you
for rescue from my own
loneliness
dramatization
and voice

i talk to my self in my sleep
without you
mostly jibberish
but that one percent
of real-life murmuring
that sobbing speech
MEANS something
im not sure what
quite yet
nor will i ever i suspect
im still taking notes though
but i guaran-*******-tee you
it doesnt mean things are swell
peachy ******* keen

i ask for no lap dog
but for a cohort
i desire no therapist
but for a co-conspiritor
i yearn for no nurse maid
but for an equal

a woman who
i dont have to teach
but am taught by
a fellow ex-patriot
who still believes in no borders
a woman with a skerple
ready to write on my walls

im not going to let
this go to "yesterday" status
though ill probably write this tomorrow

why would you do that
cut me off of all the terribly wonderful things i have to tell you
this stopped being a poem a stanza ago
i have been working for this
a chatter
failing all the while
with a blessing
never been mine
or yours

ill meet you in the morning
when you are grouchy
bitter
and i
and i am hung WAY the **** over
in fact
i woke up
waiting for you

to be moody
to chance what im getting now
i woke up to
harass you
to make you hate the whole thing
ill stick that badge on my skin
pierced for the first time
ill do it
take me

soon then right?
ill take you with me
again,
where are we going?

Please let me have several weeks
So that my anxiety can decompress
Several weeks
That I might feel comfort again
With you
Give me several weeks
So the furniture is gone
And we can properly pretend
That there is no history
Past or future
Only the present

Cause you don't need this
And this is just practice
For your epic
If you don't
Stop for a month of Sundays
And really think about
What it is you're writing
Who you're antagonizing
I guarantee that you'll never
Ever
Have time to formulate it all
Type for a month
And you'll never get far enough
To encourage bindings

NO more
Fix that
All that *******
That makes you RAMBLE
Yeah I said it
You run on at the mouth

Just kiss me
Tell me how you feel
With the mustached upper lip
And your fat bottom lip
Leave me mouth insides
That I have to wipe off

Several weeks before you leave me a poem like this
Don't do it.
I'll leave something that like this
Raucous. On blast. Larger than life.

Don't **** this up.
I JUST got you a job.

i just had a couple of years on you
but im certain we built to the same place
through vice
through falsehood
toward holding hands
cheek kisses
dirt roads
songs on repeat

weve built to this
gChat and
superstitiously deleting the book

new sheets
and the visit to where our soul
can find a harbor

not yet
not too needy

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 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

i found it
buried in the couch
stuck between two cuushions
next to an old cheeto

come home
be with me

i let you throw
your shorn leg
along side me
requested acutally
but before

"come here
be with me"

i leaked
me

i got a minor in dogs
who knows what i was talking about
you walked in and shook me to my core
no not apple
what was i saying

its not about the antecedent
that as it is sometimes called
i dreamed of you
you being here
and breathing on me
holding hands-full of gold
jingling around my boney sides
grasping for zebra animal crackers
holding me against the wall
turning up and down the commercials
i cherish you in these moments
making it seem like time is no longer passing
making me believe this is real
low fives
and highs
tag team the whole thing
hate
love
your choice
but
i win
wan
wain

ill be on the floor
rolling around for sympathy

ill be here
at the bar
but you know the number

ill be on my feet
pacing and engaging in exodus
going away and coming back
to our bed

ill be unlucky
with the craps table
rolling threes
and giving away all i own
for you

if you need to find me
ill be dancing alone in a corner
to a song that hasnt been written
juking as if you were near
reaching out for a partner
finding nothing

im lost
i shoulndt have
this or the other thing
i can hold you saturday
and feel dispelled on tuesday
we need better though
being enraptured perhaps

Under your door
     While you crept
          Toward the edge
               Of consciousness
I hand delivered a message

Finely creased
Highest quality pulp
Atop which I wrote
"I love you."

I never signed it
It fact
It took me ten years
To climb the stairs

I hope it finds you grumpy
As you always are
When the sun is breaching
Our horizon

And you think
"what is this
Wonderful paper on my
GO AWAY mat?"

Coffee in hand
You unfold oragami love
Smile
Go back to bed

You'll find me though
Fingerprints
Bloodhounds
Private ****

Only to reply
With a knife
to my bare chest
"I hate your guts."

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

youre bringing me down

not to the tank floor
where your image above seems distorted and oscillates
between grim and precious
but where you deflate me

below where my ego floats me
feet parallel
third eye perpendicular
like you and yours

bringing me way down

not below the bed (unless you like that kind of thing)
where only the darkened image of your lowest extremities are in view
only your most base visible
but you enfeeble me

beneath where my height normally is measured
knees grinding
clutching my claws
into the ground

down down down (man)

not still, submerged within the earth
where thistle and clover block my view of you
your tears watering my marble marker
but you pacify me

buried beyond my anxieties
placidity settling
astride my bone
to envelop my quintessence

I'd love to be
Instead I swat every bug
Attracted by the illumination
Of my face by this phone

A cold blooded killer me
Reflexes like a sloth
And the wit to match

A thunder clap rouses and reminds me
That these lines aren't going to finish themselves
And half wake
I bang out a few more
Syllables
Consonantes and vowels
In order to fill
In order to feel
The place between
Rolling thunder

That's nice
Something she meant
And I laughed at the thought
No matter how trite the word
Of never living up to it

Callous
Unforgiving
I exhaust the welled ink
Grind down the tipped lead
Make mockery of sidewalk chalk

And yet you read on
Nice
To " like" this or that
And later compliment my
Change of attire

Nice

Worn like badges these tears of forgiveness
Proud and glistening like a hilltop beacon
What cant be seen through these pearly
Manifestations of empathy
Are the millions of compounded experiences
Over the course of blossoming relationships
My ****** Mary as innocent as the most pure marble
As generous as the trunk that houses
The raven and its prey alike
The only remaining vestige of
What can be seen good in this world
Seen as a guiding relic
One noble and presumptuous
Taking on every lament brought
And shedding for the followers
Tears of redemption as deep and cathartic
As the thriving sea
As wonderful and symbolic
As the universe embodied
I am her prophet
Face down and prostrate
I assume her worldly debt

this is a right and true story.
nothing is embellished.
each moment
each movement
documented
no slight of hand
only straight-forward speach
minorly misinterpreted

it looks likes sorcerery
but falls flat like a ****** on a plank
walks crooked
back and forth
going nowhere

it IS a story
but it holds water
like a sieve

jarring wah-wahs
atop the high hat rich
rhythms that any teenager
could bang out with two
ball point pens and a palm heel
a voice like yours moans
squeals and asks for moar

we are calling that pr0nstep now

take me out
and dance till three
you dont even have to talk
ill be fine
squinting and flailing
cherishing wild gesticulation
raking my fingers through the head
giving you a new hairstyle
to make fun of in the morning

i gush through my body language
throwing hands out
making public seem private

this is the dance floor
we can scour for whats left at close

IS THAT A ***** PACK??
here
stick my stuff in there

forget that parking ticket
i know a guy
drive me home
i have something i want to show you

cause im laying here under the projected stars
i turned out the lights
and made a trip to aeroponics
to pick up those fungi you so humbly requested
so put down your earl grey (hot)
take off your shoes
let your hair down with me
and lets look at the stars
not the ones out of the window
but the ones glimmering on the screen
and pretend we're just at the planetarium
back on earth
home
ill massage your feet
and we will proceed to laugh
and roll around under the consoles
but NO TICKLING
you remember what happened last time
ill tweak the access to the room
and you
you will pretend like this is
your first time
i will to
ill shake and shiver
and you
well you just be however you were
before you met me
authoritative, stern and expecting
not of child
but of an ensign who knows
how to get the job done
with nary an irregularity
earning every pip
for valiance in the line of duty
wounds endured in battle
courage under fire

i witnessed a yoga class
at south by
push ups
downward dog and happy baby
**** cheeks
whispers
watch me
watch me name things
this
that
and the other lover
oh
thats me too
im two terrible people at once
pages run
too thin
though i have enough
blood to supply
those that remain

who needs blood when
innards spew plentifully
who needs a pen
when a finger will suffice
why paper when a bar window
begs for my inscription

look

downward ******* dog man
easy in
vocal out
its really not that hard
you just need to work on your balance

your hiatus

from me
cut off the lights
and read in the dark
whatever it is that you need to

its clear
that i distract you
you get nothing done
whenever im around you gabbing

im itching
clawing my skin
getting you from under
easier said than could be done

comfort yet
just knowing it
we still read minds
youre listening from hours away

still though
you need plugs
to protect your ears
because these thoughts arent quiet

im screaming
with the electricity
firing between each synapse
and it shows through where i pace

soon though
certain of that
counting down the days
when i trade combat boots for bare foot

call soon
or write even
anything beats all this
writhing and pulling out my greys

i have even considered breaking poetic structure to tell you
that im waiting just by the phone for your ring tone
i promise to stop biting the nails to the quick
just when you give me that jingle or note
swear ill stop writing anxious poems
stop calling you every single 3 AM
cease to leave our song on loop
chase out all my cars dust
shave my whiskers
eat every meal
drink nothing
bathe nightly
dr. artist
me

im not done
but ill stop

oh i searched
for that one lane that lead me through
the connected boughs above the sod
where the setting sun shone in between the trunks
the patriarch at its tip
i turned frustrated toward the triangle
that one remote turn-around point
to return home to a tune jangly
remorseful
that more time wasnt spent in awe
of all the places that have yet to be seen
remorseful
of the places below the rising moon
yet too be seen
of the places where puke has not yet been spewed
scrawling poetry on the back
of a dusty trunk
alone only with the spirit of her
laughing and chastising
this can only become more respectable
more
more
constructive
and wheels meander
and gears shift
until
im beneath a willow
long dead
cartwheel in
flop down
eyes closed
and dream

kick turn and flip up covers
replay
and again
i touched myself
and was held
i dont need you
but to be loved
replaced the things
visage
and my reflection
return
interluded
my behavior
connection discarded

necessity