there’s something magical
about hearing your name moaned
nearly two thousand miles away.
knowing you have control
over someone across the country
without barely doing anything
makes you feel like you can
rule the whole world
if you so chose,
and I do choose.

one day you will all
moan my name
and it will be how
life was always meant.

there’s something special
about *******
your worst enemy’s
property;
giving her wings
and rejoicing
as she flies away
toward a new dawn,
where the property
no longer is a property,
but a cloud,
and no one owns
a cloud.

they are free
to live
as they
wish.

Do you remember that July afternoon
where we took a walk in the woods
and got lost on purpose?

Some people may not understand
why we did what we did.
Well, those people can
continue being on time
right on to hell.

Do you remember the trees we passed,
that perfect day of our past?
It would not, by any long shot,
be our last.

Do you remember how your hand felt
locked within my own, as we strolled
our own private planet?

Can you still see the lake
we stumbled across, and feel
how cold the water had been
as we jumped in, freshly stripped
of all clothing?

Can you still hear the sound
of our bodies splashing
as the heat fled from our
system?

Can you picture what it was like
as I led you on tiptoes
to the center of the universe,
where the curse
of consequence
was no longer valid,
where you wrapped your legs
around my waist,
and I kissed
your wet lips,
looking into your eyes
and yours into mine,
and ever so discretely
entering the only
warmth left in
all of the lake?

Do you remember how
the mosquitoes took a day off
just for us?

                                        

                                                    I do.

You ever see one of those
old guys who spend their days
wandering the town
with the soles of their
never weary shoes?

Their history tends to be a mystery.
Primary family most likely
already buried in a plot
where they’ll be in a few years,
maybe months, or days.
All other relatives
no longer relative.
Left alone with the
sun on their backs,
and the memories
in their minds.
And if they live
in a house,
you’ve never seen it.
Or if they live at all,
you don’t believe it.

And like yesterday
and hopefully tomorrow,
today they’ll walk
and study the alien
replacements
of their youth,
and wonder
what the hell
happened.

I once met a man who was crazy.
He worked in a cubicle,
and thought he was perfectly normal.

Then I met a man who was completely sane,
but persisted there be an “in”
added to the beginning of the title.
He paid for therapy once a week.

I swear, they both drove me nuts.

I used to be trapped
in this little room.
There was no lock
chaining us to the bedpost;
just this surreal numbness
that prevented us from
ever getting too far
away.

You could open the door
and take a step out,
only to find yourself
entering the same room
in which you’d just
exited.

It was madness.
The walls were my enemy.
They planned to **** me.
I could hear them plotting
behind my back, as they
closed in on my deepest fears.
I knew I had to escape
before the cracks
on the ceiling
ate me alive.

On more than one occasion
I recall sitting out
on the windowsill
with the night air
taunting me to join it.
So tired, yet there was
never any sleep,
and when there was,
the dreams were never good.
And I know now, sitting here,
I would have joined the moon’s
convincing breeze
without hesitation,
if only our room hadn’t
been on the second floor
where I would have only
broken a leg, and felt
more pain.

But before we could relocate
to a higher surface,
I at last found my own
little light,

and you know, I guess that’s
pretty all right.

My lady would go crazy
whenever I was found
in the presence
of another female.

I guess she assumed
the leg between my legs
did all the walking,
and like the monsters
of her nostalgic past,
I was on the prowl
for any ol’ piece of ***.

It got to the point
where I gave up with corrections
and allowed her chartreuse fever
to run completely wild
and that was kind of fun
for a while.

Then one day I saw this guy
put his hand on her shoulder
in a reasonably innocent gesture
I read too far into.

By the time I was through,
my knuckles were raw
and his face was pulp,
while her face sprung
into a sea of abhorrence.

I was left alone
with a broken hand
and a month in county.

In this abstruse mist we

Levitate and coexist
Over all scenarios conceivable
Visions never unbelievable while
Entwined within your soul

You make me completely whole
Offering you all of me, for this
Unfailing love will always be…