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CE Green Dec 2021
Wander through a dim and hollering room
this length of blaring and vital youth.
They aren't people tonight, they are wolves
hiding fangs behind masks that drool.

and all about them a feeling of depraved deception
insidious heat permeates the space and it seeps into my feet as I make my way across the hollering room.

And just at the moment I feel I've made a mistake, that I should not be here, that I do not belong, that a strange and imminent fate is afoot there is a


all else is shrouded amongst the noise and haste and a solitary single angel enters my line of sight. If important things are so hard to say how can we not help but to get them out?
And is it true that things like this always happen for a reason?

Some questions I ask myself.

And I never got to hold your hair back when you became sick
I just held you there in a windswept freeze, ocean midnight breeze.
She smells like sunlight and blossoming summer flowers
and I want to be there. Right now, I just want to be there, far away from the hollering room.
CE Green Oct 2021
and so you fell away introspectively
a cough and a cold shoulder
forehead press, and no kiss.
going forward half sincerely
the wet and one note weather
bed head stunned, enter no forgiveness.
CE Green Oct 2021
Shadow deer incoming
upon azure hue sight
backmask their beauty fast
Oh, I know! the one about the empty myth?
we heard that one two weeks past.
Temezcal withdrawn
Mauve cycle, crass.
You've told me a thousand times
To hell with empathy tax.
CE Green Jun 2020
Peering green glass often times
Late twilight, mid-moon rage efficacious.
What I meant, and was trying to say!
Was vague.

Misunderstanding influx incoming interruption infuriating incubus insisting

‘Spelling it out does not mean “T” crossing or “I” dotting’

There is a greater story, a tale left of stage, whimsical, and undoubtedly strange.
CE Green May 2019
Funny how foggy mornings stir you up.
Pancake batter lace memory.
Those thick ribbons, waves of thought.
Pleasant valley was somewhat a memorable kinda place, though. To me. My people. We laughed a whole lot. Drank. Whole lot. Smoked, a whole lot lot. Often late, late into the night. Rock n Roll. Look at me, ma! I’m a teenage Lou Reed. Man, we smoked a lot.
One by one we’d filter into the fireplace room, make our peace with the evenings debauchery and lapse carelessly into some thin form of rest.
I’d often be awake before the mice. Never could sleep well outside my home. Even the ******* dog would stare at me as I sauntered toward the toilet. Man, my hair was cool then. Even after sleeping on a floor, and it smelled like wood fire and eternity. Pull a King book off the shelf in the garage, *** a spirit from the half eaten pack on the kitchen counter and get in some porch time and wait for my people to wake up, one by one to come and greet me, to come and say “hey, crazy night dude. How long have you been awake?” That’s not verbatim, but it’s the best I can do to remember what they have said.
I’m awake now, this morning years later. Somehow I’m mostly still the same. No smoking. Pleasant valley a ghost upon my eyes. And my people I gathered with, well, they are mostly the same too. No smoking. Not as lean, married with children or **** near close. And I suppose that’s fine, and we are living our best lives, as slowly as we can. I just wonder if you guys are ever gonna see this, I just wonder if foggy spring mornings remind you of pleasant valley. I hope they always do. Amen.
CE Green Feb 2019
Pockets emptying
Night time knighthood pay.
We glitter as long as we can.
Reminiscent of ****** stage gags
The scar you left on my hand.
Oh, and you aren’t here any longer
We killed you in a dream.
Your sports utility vehicle
Your visage unseen.
I beg for no further bother,
I’m lost and plumb green.
Movement like ghost shifting
Forever unclean.
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