I wear
Jackets inside,

The **** **** kind.

It's cold most nights
When I work.
Not so cold as

Chicago
xOr my **** grammar
But,

Cold enough to listen to myself
As I read myself over
Rain, snow, or shine to ensure

Wonder bliss
And the infamous twilight.

Is so grand or relatable, we
Can relate that

To God creating man.

When I get tired,
I don't go to sleep.
The body
Is a mind with restrictions
That need to be
Stripped of it.

Solitude. Socialism. AI.

What is our ideal state?
What is our point of progression?
Where is our evolution?

It's here
In these white spaces
Between black letters;

In sighs between laughs;

In afterthoughts
After

Thoughts;

In love before the making.

Brain child of no one
The narrator
Poses for a million and one
Lights
Enflamed by everything
They've ever done or
Imagined

Bracing themselves
A new terror trickles
Over new eyes
Mouths
Finger tips -

All run south

There is a new day upon us
One that we will soon regret
Ever working towards

I got a something for me
And a something for you
And a little more something for
Me because
I'm a selfish son-of-a-b,
But let me have my fun...
Because we ain't making no money,
Ain't receiving no love; only curdled smiles
Half-hugged
By a thin tremor of a heart beat
That takes me right back to the beginning again

Right back to the beginning again,

Right back to the crooked porch and the miss-matched moon

Spilt over by a 2 percent sky

That no one yearns to gaze out to feign epiphany or depth, so
We're left
Out of our minds, out of our pocket, out of ourselves
Where all we've got to gear towards

Is the next pay check.

Declarations
Are supported
By nothing
But the vocal patterns
Of solidarity's
Sole believers.

I'm in love and
I know I am
Because I smile
Every time I shower.

Perceptions are similar
To that of the gnat:
Buzzing;
Incessant;
And somewhat believable.

Love asked me the time,
And I told them -
What's it matter?

We see one another's
Eyes
Yet,
When we glance or
Flick
A stare toward ourselves,
We are faced
Affronted
Cornered into facing
Not just our physical

But our everything.

I worry about dinner,
Then dessert.
Yogurt instead of ice cream?
I'm a hunter gatherer
Hoarding anxiety, self-loathing, and shame
Then I remember all of the Earth's
Continents will be under water
2040.

I buy Rocky Road - extra rock, extra road.

A reflection is not worth
A thousand words,
But an infinite mirror
Of accomplishments,
Regrets,
Successes, and
Failures.

The mirror is a mirror
As well as a beginning
Of facing
Whatever the hell you are now
And whatever the hell
You maybe want to be, if better.

I like to make sure
She's breathing.
I put my open palm on her navel,
Or her lower back; feel the breath.

Sometimes I wonder, I fear,
What I would do, would be, turn into,
If there was no rise or
Fall.

Deconstruction
Is a means
To rebirth.

Tactics of repression.

Maneuvers
Of

Being human

In

An inhumane world.

Collide?

Yes, why not?

I think I will
When

My will

Bides for a man
That shows
Their worth and knows

What they want.



I'm here still, mind you.

Wandering,
Wondering
Near pratfuls and razor edges
That make
Every falling leaf n'
Passing stream

A missle

Of self reflection and tropic

Kitch.



I love writers.
They make me believe
Not
In myself.

A stone has more
Truth
Than a sentence.

A sentence
Holds no
Natural substance.

Paragraphs
Are the feeble attempts
Of man
For meaning.

We are periods,
Commas,
Arguments of dashes, semi-colons, apostrophes.

Seek a soul unknown and -

Query them.

Dig them.

Dive into them.

See how deep a sentence for a story goes
When it means
Existing for the sake

Of existing.

I am I with you
And

Never without you.

Hold my words. Hold my papers. Hold myself.

Just as soon,

Put it on the shelf,

To gather dust,

To pass on,

To another self.

It's early morning here
The night was long
And now gone
I'm sitting here listening to you
Make believe in dreams
We are the same as we used to be

Sister' listen
To the way
The stars collide
Sounds like a melodious
Triumph
Made of cotton and sour
Candy

You make me feel
Like a stubborn
Other
Reeling toward a present
That I just don't know
If I'm going to trust

How can I make me
Take that step
Feat that leap
To make me believe

Yellow moon
Crystal clouds
Sincere stream
Is not
The sway

The best love
Is the love
Off whiskey

When you think
You think

You know
How
To express

And you're shouting
At a naked

Star

A naked

Idol

And you see

You've been pulling

From the same shared love

Imagine that

The same shared love

and that's it for now (end poem)