let's say,
just for kicks...
that when you walk in
your front door,
your cat is lying
next to a dead rat,
looking up at you proudly.

is the appropriate response,
to scoop up said rat
with two paper plates,
then fling it off the front porch?

just wondering.

i've been staring
into the void
and it's been staring back
p u l l i n g me
closer
whispering truths
smoke billows
and i'm dancing
like the devil got ahold
of me
it's such an odd
and very specific world
i inhabit
my own personal
                  funky town
i need someone
to DROP THE BASS
directly on me
pull me to the center of the earth
then propel me into space
on magma and music
and i will laugh
all the way to the moon
berries and cloves and
deep bass and drums help
keep me sane
because i don't see
the place i belong
i don't think i belong anywhere
except inside
my own creations
alone,
i paint the paper
i scratch on the wall
i paint my body
i move
like the music
was born in me
...how do i find myself
when everyone seems to think
i'm right here?
trap music
trap me
drop the bass on me
because i can't find
a bass-less place
to be

i was sitting here
searching for how to
do something mundane.
worklike.
syncing accounts.
trying to find passwords.
downloading data.

i sprinkled eucalyptus around
earlier to try
to make myself feel better.

i lit a candle and everything and
even pretend made my bed.
cranked the air conditioning.
so i could cool off.
and calm down.
and r e s t.

i took 2 dove milk chocolates
and ice cold water to my room.
i just wanted to watch
Stargate Atlantis
and go to sleep.

lazily mining for data
half paying attention
and suddenly an
  intergalactic time portal
opened up before my eyes.
and boom.
(i'm here again)
in this place
of so much
l o v e
my heart pounding
as if no time has gone by.
as if you had just come around
the corner and i see your face
again for the
first time.

literally tachycardia
a loss of all logic
a stupid, stupid grin
my body shaking
in anticipation
of hearing your voice.

by accident.
gigabyte after gigabyte after gigabyte
                and year, after year, after y e a r
and no matter which
one i choose,

i find pieces of you.
    funny little pieces.
        big, honest pieces.
secret pieces.
my pieces.

tears are streaming
d o w n my face
but i don't care
because it is the only
time i can remember
what it was like.

to be a different person.
in a different time.
to overlap with you.

every click
and swipe
songs
artworks
words
photos
texts

the reaching and
the r e t r e a t i n g.
     the coming together and
the sudden
   f
     a ll
in g
a p
art

all neatly in chronological
order like i'm
reading my own story.
but seeing it from
the outside.
the entire picture.
and i can see
where i was wrong
   i n t e n s e
younger
and stupider
and flailing.

but i have always seen you.
     always from the
           very first moment.
you were like an assault
  but in a cosmic sense.
and at the same time
a peaceful, serene, beautiful,
rare combination of atoms and ****.

and i don't think something like that
   could ever happen again.
i can't even imagine it,
   and imagining is the
only thing i'm good at.

curse the interwebs,
saving all this ****
i didn't even realize.
and thought was lost.

but also thank you,
google overlord.

i think it's ok to cry
  about loving someone,
and missing someone
so so so so much.

because nothing matters more
  than being honest
about your love.

and then i looked out
my window in despair
and i saw
a crescent moon.

i did something
new tonight
(just an fyi)

i sat
on a wet rock
next to a creek
in the rain
with a brown umbrella
darkness looming,
   i thugged it out with jay-z
i lived for the city
       with stevie
               i raged against the machine
i found my own bravado
        with lorde
   i settled down to rose darling

and i found all
the voices
compelling
as i watched leaves
fall then
hit the water
moving in a rush

i looked up at
the grey clouds
and stared at my
black shoes
i twirled the
umbrella to
watch water
spray out

and i thought
to myself,
"am i just a big mouth?"
because that's what i feel like
a big yapping
mouth

yet i am
almost always
clothed in
s i l e n c e
   ...alone
quiet
   no words are
uttered from my
lips
the majority
of each day

then why do i
feel so
loud
when i live
in my mind
when i consider
my life
through
the tick. tick. tick.

all i do
is
think think think
     /consider/
weigh
and it
gets me
nowhere
but deeper
into this
abyss of
memory and
fantasy

what are
the rest of
the humans doing?
am i in
s p a c e?
i seem to
be
in a different
realm...

and now i'm letting you know.

i was screaming,
right out loud,
as loud
as i could.

crying for
my gramma,
because she
is gone,
and she is
someone that
i loved.

and as
i was screaming
her name,
my phone lit up,
vibrated,
and made a sound.

it was my sister.
and at that moment
my little ham,
my own little nephew,
blood of my blood
had realized
that he was
going to
die
someday.

and now i
can't breathe,
for the absolute
severing of my heart.

a plane taking off
a green sign
dreary rain
sad songs
blue eyes
lime spritzer
cottage cheese
a ten dollar bill
a penny on the pavement
white pants
laughter
a bad smell
weird hair
a magnet
cinnamon

every time
a c o l o r
catches my eye
(which is very often)
in my mind
i instantly analyze it
break it down into its primary basics
then reconstruct it
in my mind with paint.

for example,
what first i took as pink,
upon further gazing
is really more of an orange.

start with white
add |this| amount of yellow
then this tiny minuscule
shard of (red)
together, white and red make pink.
yellow and red make orange.
pink and orange are different
points on
a spectrum.

and you can see how
close
orange and
p i n k are.
and how so very
far away.

and then that
blue-purple light
juxtaposed -
that is another thing
entirely.

is never
what you think
it is.

suddenly,
  i s e e
that there may be
a possibili ty
that it's me
that will
d e c i d e.
me that
*quits.

|the power of the w o r d and the (art)|



to really learn
     your brain has to f l e x
you must be open
  to new ideas
and challenge
the authority
the majority
the status quo
     because seeing pattern
is an art
  an art that can has power anywhere
even to see the future
based on the words
and images
of the
now.
sometimes
we can see the possible picture
the emerging image
   each subtly,
seemingly obscure
things come together
for us
and we can see
from much farther away
than you.

and in those moments that we can see,
you should l i s t e n
  to what we say
l i s t e n to what we sing
l i s t e n to what we play
l o o k at what we show you.
        and begin
    with
t  h e
q
u
e
s
t
i
o
n

[ode to my vehicle]*

always mindful
  
not to love things or stuff


living so that it 
  
could all burn

and it would be nothing
  
but an inconvenience

always mindful
   to love the people
because for these
there are no replacements



three objects 
  
have escaped my plan

maneuvered 
  
through my designs
and i fell in love with 3 things:



1. *old white macbook
*  
my beautiful
      
smart
        
well-designed
  
whirring piece of brilliant technology

you are already gone.



2. *wedding rings
  (irrelevant)

 i used to believe the
   joke of the symbolism
i fell prey to the beauty of
    well designed twisted metal
and stone.
no more.



3. asian machine love
*
    (a.k.a. mitsubishi outlander sport)  

i am having a hard time

having to let you go
  
my beautiful, black mitsubishi.



i chose you.


i researched for weeks
  
analyzing data

comparing machines
  
prices

trying to be reasonable


and out of all the machines,

i. chose. you.



you are the perfect shape
  
of all vehicle shapes, mitsubishi

you fulfill my obsession with
  
design

     lines
  
c o l o r 
      
efficiency

speed

    and b  o  o  m  i  n  g SOUND



you are the perfect balance of safety
  
including 4WD

and fuel efficiency

your headlights are so bright
  
and your high beams

so magnificent
  it's almost embarrassing


mitsubishi, you little snake...
  you have a manual mode

so i can choose to be a race car driver
  whenever i want


mitsubishi outlander sport, i love you so

*

let's talk about your face
  
(you have a pig-face like me
)
your nose is abrupt
  
it's blunt and it's different

and i love it


you know i hate the cold and the snow
   so you heat my seats
you warn me about ice
  you wipe away the rain

  without me having to ask

you cast light into the dark

  all on your own

gps

  usb

subwoofer

  rockford fosgate

bluetooth


mitsubishi,
you shake the earth

 blasting music 
through my dna

  so that i am made
of vibrations
and air

  invisible to the naked eye

or playing my science fiction audiobooks

  at a reasonable

and responsible volume



mitsubishi, 
you respond to me
with such grace

showing me impossibilities

with a rearview camera

saying, "hello!" in the morning

and, "see ya!" when i leave

(and i believe you mean it)



the deer was not your fault.

or mine, or the deer's.
  
we were all doing what we do,

and to be quite honest,

  the deer got the **** end of the stick, mitsubishi.

the kids like
  to go in
"mandy's car"
    they like to
look through the moonroof
  and i know they are safe
 .  
you are my one machine love
  
with power

combustion
  
     and pistons

you are electric
  
  intelligent

and you boom
 
  sleek

comfortable
  
          well designed



i don't want to see you burn.

it would be more than an inconvenience.
but you will burn. he will burn you.
it won't be me, mitsubishi.

he will take you.
he will smile when he takes you.
he likes to take what i love.
he likes to hurt people
who have never hurt him -
not once in their lives.

he is coming for you,
and i will never forgive him.

ask for more?!
   ask for more???
have you lost your mind, man?
i mean really,
   ask for more! (said with a chuckle)

asking is admitting
asking is revealing
asking is believing
asking is expecting
asking is...
   asking.

nothing is better.
nothing is nothing.
well.
  nothing is nothing for awhile
nothing is something after too much nothing
   surely, nothing is better than asking

can i infer?
i will infer.
i will make gestures.

i will not be so dumb to act as if there were nothing
    but not so bold as to be asking for something
   i will infer
     i'll will things with my mind
i will desperately wish things
   quietly...
      silently, even?
that seems noble and perfectly normal
  mind reading
     inferring
  making ridiculous gestures
struggling
and talking to oneself
is surely
a saner and wiser path.

ask for more!
ha!
madman!

casting to chrome
broadcasting mind blown
_ hey
_ hey
_ hey
_ hey
blasting to
mylovemylovemylove
he keeps me warm
take me to church
take me to CHURCH
cascade everlasting
sub
cast
me
boomboomboom

as soon as i
can
<get a grip>
i'll stop
mistaking you
for
someone who cares.

I stopped
making art
for you
because you
****.

and that's
the extent
of my savagery.

[i picture myself]
>I see my mind's eye self<
as a sculpture
made of stone
facing outward toward the sea
where the ocean meets the land
(meets woman)
face to
the waves
a barrage.
   an erosion.
a return.

[warriors by your side]


it's best
   to figure out quickly
that there is no path
to be revealed in a glorious light.

there are only weapons
   used to hack your way
through the woods
in the dark.

things
s l o w
d
  o
    w
       n
suddenly
*in the violet-white
sheen
f l o a t i n g
on the air.

there are many things
i do not know
even after
40 years and i tell you
i haven’t stopped
this searching
since first i awoke
to the world
always so concerned
so amused
so incredibly internal
to a degree i cannot
describe or fathom
i only wanted
to love
and to help
and to create
and instead
the earth opened
and i fell
to another
place.

a golden 7
with a pink bird.

a blue veil of lace.

not sure
of the date
of enrollment

but i suspect
i've been
the secret leader
for awhile now

i am
the bringer
of light

the harbinger
of death

and you
cannot
surprise me.

i'm not allowed to say
i am thinking of you today.
because you don't care
what i think,
i don't tell you my ideas.
(anymore)

is like having a
soap opera mind.

it's so dramatic.
stories all over the place.
strange confessions
and amnesia.

i think it
a grave mistake
for
worldviews
to be held
hostage,
s e c r e t,
tight
against
one's chest,
reinforced
only by
filtered
media.

It is a dark path.
a journey into
an obsession with
yourself and those
who agree with you.

progress only arises
from s h a r i n g
ideas,
thoughts,
experiments,
experiences.

one does not
get an education
to learn only about
oneself.

it is the others
who provide the
most beautiful,
complex unraveling of
your tightly wound views.

a society that
does not share ideas,
does not excel.
does not improve.
does not invent.
does not create.

a society fixated on a mantra
of sameness
will collapse
entirely.