I'm a super-villian in my
own mind
Like Tybalt
that prince of cats
Sleek-eyed
and mannequin-smiled
But those clove cigarettes
black and potent
Hurt my ribcage

Copper bees on earings
or wresting on flowers
smoking a cigarette, disheveled
outside the bar after hours
Maybe I've been selfish
and rushing like a manic
into many different spaces
all draped with potential
Just trying to find a light in
a very dark tumble
And the more I've become
aware of my cyclic mechanics
was where I felt hopeful
What is your dream like?
The less I fear I'll ever be content
He's like a quite lake a
mountain of sturdy grace
His buttons all in place
Sometimes I feel shapeless and
drifting
But he's an anchor in drizzled
mornings
I'm trying to find the gap
where God and I coalesce
It's hard to express
It's a titillating quiver
To make peace with the remnants
of a stranger
In my head
the voice still there
Memories of bee stings
from throwing rocks
at hives.

Missing like the Sun behind clouds
you leave this Earthbound place
Separated in your mind and
In time and space
Phases of emotion
Cycles of feeling
Is this sensation waning
Waxing crescent tears and smiles
Fitted like a scarf around my
neck and
I'll be dragging it for miles
Tethered weathered potions
of foxglove, laurels
and daffodils
dripped in ink, wrapped in linen
Caught on cameras
Scratched and bitten
Amusement parks with
twirling horses
Blinking signs
Ferris wheels
Popcorn on the scratchy ground
Looking past that merry go round
And thought I saw a smokey mirror
a reflected window of blue sky
and all I could muster to say was
"high"
It sounded like a music box
It traced like constellations
It's seashells penetrated my
mind
That's why, my friend, you can't find
where it is I'm wandering
Gripples on my arm and
all along my collarbone and
down my spine like a slide
It's all angles
"Be a triangle"
And sudden like a collision
hard in the pit of my ribs
I say the words I've
screamed inside and
they escape from my lips
I've died once but
lived many times
So many places I've been in
one life and I'm a
kaleidescopic mind.

I dipped my leary feet in a
pond called science and witnessed the
molecules turn to ice

I asked a priest the meaning of
life, he said
"To be redeemed by God"
I read the scriptures of holy
gospels
I pondered the interpretation's
of all the apostle's
Answer the phone
I asked a bald monk the meaning of
life, he said
"To walk along the path of light."
I banged a gong sketched with
calligraphy and ate only
pomegranate seeds
Answer the phone
I looked all around for pieces
that fit
That sanctuary where you
come from
Like crossstitched buttons
from different grazes
the semblance of home
Answer
the
phone.

Falling
Kaleidoscopic and feathery
The seasons brief stay
Feeling faith between
my ribs
pulsating like a lightbulb
hanging from a chain
Every time it changes the
foliage and the sky
If time stopped in stillness
then I'd have no quarrel with
the possibility of going insane
For an hour out of a day
when waves crashed my name
I'd make myself a palace from
the silence and the decay
Rapid fire in and out the door
There he goes
wayward traveler
Starving body and
content spirit under moonlight
catching colds to shake off
Because I really don't see what
other people do when I look
at me
Tired sighs
Green eyes
Mesmerized by pictures
of angels
Tethered skin
Weather beaten
Holding in a vision
I've been in mansions
with swimming pools
I've been in dingy
alley backrooms
And I still couldn't recognize
what I was reading
Oscillating around street lamps
and speaking in whistles
A fleeting sensation and
I can't trust the transition
I wish life was quite and
I could have met him
after the storm
Where does this start
In my head or in my heart
When does this grow from
something soft to something
sharp?
Verses resting on the wall
Prophecy
Clentched wrist
Crosses
Do I make the right decisions
Trembling jaw
All this theory in a blooming flower
Watching cars drive by
There's a mistress on the floor
Behind the locked screen door
And there's a picture on the
shelf of you with someone else
Coveted dreams of romance
without a promise of courtship

Sirens in the sea
whispering sighs of pale moons
Seraphs in the skies and
the symptomatic melancholy
Tailor-made fascination with
the oblivious oneness
Like a music-box ballerina twirling
in rorschach splatters
Serenade cornucopia frizzled out
Lanterns descending from the
willow trees
Fox-colored
Stout arched neck
Drizzled drops of rain over our
windshield wiper conversations

Converted like a Spring leaf
as the promise of Autumn hushes
like a mushroom cloud over the
terrain of apartment-stride-sidewalks
and sunburnt shoulders
It's feeling like a note you folded
away only to re-open to re-read
The cursive dribble from ghost skulls
about ghost memories you keep in
an ornate jar
Shredded, bruises
Plum colored eyes
plump like trophies after staying
at the gritty hotels
"Open Vacancy" signs perched off
chain links
But the scars are healed now
I'm parked at some wishing well
hoping to mean more to someone
that's headed for Maine tomorrow
I'll miss the wooden ledge under my
hand and the cool air through the
window
Laying on that grey bed
Sheets disheveled as my cowlick
mane
A garden of variety of secret tulips
on hidden balconies
Stretched into a purgatory
unto endless baggage and street
name's
I don't think I have the memory
to remember
Wicker chair over a sort of courtyard
Antiques in white light like
sacrements from a dawn