You sit awake
and wonder what it must’ve
been like,
to climb against the air in whatever
life
you should choose.
Every search lay vacant beside
the pile of wasted time you have
allowed.
(Rather) not for
nothing, we’ll see where this one
takes us

A hyper dog
running circles around children
who don’t care
about the drink in your hand.
Boxes wrapped in thin-patterned
paper,
Waxed in doubt and self-preservation

(But simple and loving)

some Insect trudging
along the denim of
his jeans
It’s a happy state
to be in

The verge of nightly solitude brings ghostly characters in my room,
The glow of moon and whirl of wind breathes open kindle gloom,
and forth from forward unto morning prove to me the sanctum sun,
To vast and winding grassy roads my legs do signal me
Come my love, to the edge of night-
The cool and hollow air,
Come with me and leave me, watch as I stride forth,
Into wild
and twisting seas

New dams built in the dawn of an amateur city,
Its residents eager in ****** the tremulous land,
The smooth, serene landscape of an earthed panorama
Seen bladed and ****** under the hands of its sightseers,
ditch diggers,
An industrial graveyard
Bones of Gaia shattered over the boiled sunlit desert

In addicted evening
I crawl
on my knees,
The caps wearing away,
my eyes burn retinal filmstrips
every time I
Am reminded.
Hug me please, warm
green night

Arrive with your purple tents and
drive stakes through
the mid-October arch.
The spires aching in wingtipped sky
That awful afternoon,
That God given night,
The wonderful hours left alone
And minutes visited together.
In a statement said simply,
I guess it was worth it.

I only drink water nowadays,
I walked barefoot through a downpour
and came out
quite alright.
I sat on a building with gardens sprouting from its windows
and thought about colors and heaven.
I spoke nonsense to a man on the phone every day for the past month,
and I plopped myself in a desk for 14 years.
No wonder why my spine curves,
I only laugh nowadays.
I only smile in awe at the audacity of life

****** is my worst fear,
Although I don't fear it much.
Knives and needles make me uncomfortable,
but blood doesn't.
I'm not sure why I'm telling you this
I'm not sure of anything,
But I love it this way.
It's too good to pass up

We'll have an evening of pitiful grapes,
To squash away and
pour sour wine into our guts.
You need guts in this world,
You need those leaking
Fruit.
You need ****,
you need death
you need tears from the
scarred cheek of
India.
You need strangest eyes grasping your
every life,
You need these hurting
mundane nothings.
You need nothings for everything to be
what it is.
You need to leap back
and be free from
the green clouds
and sweep your hair
down into your face and
see the stained
grey vision
before you meet
the Buddha.
I hope he has enough
for you