sneakers laced up tight
double knotted
and tucked in to the left side of either shoe.
a ritual for the runner.
I’ve got this theory,
that people hate to run
because it gives them too much time alone
with themselves.
for me there’s always been something soothing there
no past
no future
even the ipod fades out to dim beat
not unlike the tic of a clock
beside your writing desk.
so im left with just the sound of my feet
the rhythm of my breath
and that refreshing taste of cool morning air
no past
no future
no thoughts
there are few finer things
than the emptiness of the road.

There’s this dream I have,
the wind soft on my face,
the salt smell of the ocean inhaled deep in my lungs
all the way through to the bottom of my soul.
I open my eyes,
the ocean lapping gently at my toes
a clear blue sky mirrored by crystal clear water
the sun shining down on my body
the sand formed to my figure
like i’d been here on this beach all along
I stand up and search the shoreline
as if I hadn’t been here so many times before
its barren and abandoned
not even a rock amongst the sand to heed my passing
the sun falls through the sky ever so slowly as I press on
only the whistle of the wind in my ears
the caress of the weathered sand
the cool water running up and over my ankles
and then away again
I find my imprint just as i’d left it
to stubborn to fade from the oceans weathering
I lay back down in the sand
and close my eyes
When they open again its dark
the lights off in my bedroom
so on these nights of celebration
I find myself searching the crowd, anxiously
another drink to settle
I’ll walk hand in hand with the devil
before I walk home alone tonight.

Don't look.
The world's about to break.

Don't look.
The world's about to chuck out all its light
and stuff us in the chokepit of its dark,
That black and fat suffocated place
Where we will **** or die or dance or weep
Or scream of whine or squeak like mice
To renegotiate our starting price.

My coffee’s getting cold so I
Top it off
The steam ran away and it
Might get lost
The humans sit and stare while at
The crosswalk
I pass and stand awake and wait and
Hear them talk-
-ing about the meat that grows in
Livestock
I guess I thought that caffeine was a weakness

my bloed is rooi
en dit vloei
ek is heeltemaal ingetrek
ek het die maan gelek
en as ek sterrekyk
ek weet ek kan my droome beruik

my blood is red
and it flows
i am totally drawn in
i licked the moon
and as i stargaze
i know i can reach my dreams

A poem falls short; I'd like, instead
to draw a single line from me to you
and watch it curl into a word
so beautiful it's still unsaid –
or press paper to the window pane
so that the day might saturate
a note that brightly warms your hands,
spills birdsong from imagined trees
and buzzes like fat bumblebees,
but I am bound by language, love; I can't.

A voice said, Look me in the stars
And tell me truly, men of earth,
If all the soul-and-body scars
Were not too much to pay for birth.