it's a hard knocked life
for a bus
rolling down the highway
which way
go left go left
stop!
don't know why i'm here
anywhere
and it doesn't matter
really
but it gets you down
when your existence is brought into question
like why?
and more importantly
how
can you make it feel
not so empty?

perpetuated indifference
freedom and fleas
cats in the trees
loving the grass and twigs
between my knees
and toes
and fragments
in my hair
my clothes
and on a day such as forever
I spoke to another
terribly,
not so good at words
with others
who say words back,
pretty little polka dotted
circles and nonsense
like who are you kidding?
Individuality is not a crime
though faking it is,
as if being unique is even unique
but another copy
of another
a thought already thought
shush up
kiss like a real person
not a slobbery
monstrous
adolescent,
but like a man who knows
or at least cares,
but not about the earth crusts on my skin
or the air in my finger nails
it's all me
and if they can't like it
can't love it
in any way
that can be considered love
or positive
in any form or shape or sound or purpose
then forget
to forget
because sometimes
one is ****** up
and enjoys
a little game
of brain bashing insecurity,
until that day when one becomes self-actualized
(oh please)
and then real forget and freedom may happen.
How boring.

In the day spa pool
                     a ******* girl,
              floats half submerged;
two placid white lotus buds,
identical twins,
     cheerily face upwards,
   gleaming, wet.

What are these bands around your wrists
These frayed stories that barely cling?
And what are these enchantments held
That cradle your touch between each ring?
And what is this ancient writing here
That’s inked from shops of yester-year?
Is there a relic about you yet
That makes your brackish past run clear?

What is that place your eye seeks out
When your steady gaze is aether-bound?
And what steep truths have you traversed
To gather poise as you have found?
What shadows passing now have stayed
And fears upon tanned shoulder weighed?
Can mysteries be unraveled here
That in your piercing focus played?

Oh wandering mystery mountain man,
Oh sweet conundrum of my dreams,
Oh distant altruistic love,
Oh ponderer of whispering streams,
Wherefore do the stars yet speak
So I can hear their secret calls,
But ever in their praises keep
Your hidden name in cosmic halls?
Yes, to my ears they murmur deep
The stain-ed truths of earth and sky
But never leaks that hopeful peep;
Verisimilitude is shy.

Forever my enigma: you.
The heavens sagely made it so.
For I have solved the their secrets through,
But so much in you left to know.

Brown and furry
Caterpillar in a hurry,
Take your walk
To the shady leaf, or stalk,
Or what not,
Which may be the chosen spot.
No toad spy you,
Hovering bird of prey pass by you;
Spin and die,
To live again a butterfly.

well,* she said,
and there she took a
pause and a breath and shuddered

a little.
well, I don't really know, I don't
really want to know, I

don't think.
and I knew it wasn't a matter of wanting
but a matter of needing and

she needed to know.
she needed and I said,
I'm sorry;

I didn't mean to--
and she cut me off;
I found myself daydreaming

of you in class and I noticed
she was saying, I didn't know, I
didn't want to know, but it

happened, anyway.
and I wept for her
that night.

I didn't tell her.