There is no need to agree with me
I see your love being used sparingly, as it is
We already share the same tree of life
And fuel is only as bright as the ultimate, really
We come from hundreds of angels wrestling
Welcoming the shared commodity of love
Back into our shattered skylines and economies
Consternation was constructed from dust
So we encrusted rubies and revolved on our butts
I trusted you to crush me correctly
Instead you became funny
And money fell from your fingertips
Now we bring humor to the dying
In lingering dreams of the aristocracy
Among the other moondancers
We alone fancy a rush of nothingness
When less than a decade ago
We could still find lookouts for our shadows
I resume the music as fumes drip vaporous
And campaigns to elect our democratic fathers
Are merely shambles of something
That once enraged us but now just ramble on forever
Until we can't wait to end all this target practice
But we are still mere artifacts of human hammering
Instantly building our secret languages
Where we will speak nothing but tired gibberish
To a enlightened community of solipsistic symbolists

I am imagining the active particle
The noun inevitably becomes a weapon
And the verb seeks it's naked rations
Of relative invigoration
We are actually traveling
Among our own relatives
While sisters deepen dents in their own bellies
We make the things that happen to salty sirens
As hundreds of huddled fishes
Whisper poems to the lips of elderly singers
Still we are just showmen singing for our dinners
What truly matters is can we listen
Or do we snicker at the working stiffs
Who bring liberal deposits of consciousness
To the empty coffers of our impermanent imaginations

Jungles of nakedness
Grow into entangled gardens
You make it appear really easy
Yet in someone else's definition of reality
It's actually quite dangerous
Let alone difficult and terrifying
Still there’s nothing out of the ordinary
Just more of my oneiric meandering
You see its a bit like gambling on love
We say we trust the unconscious
But not enough to let it lead us there entirely
So instead we treat ourselves
To anything but the taste of our own sorrow

I'm fighting
against this wave of "new age artists"
every masterpiece written on napkins crumbled up into poets pockets

I'm fighting
to keep my head above the water
we're all drowning in our tears
we're all just put here to wander
is there a god?
do they like poetry,
do they recite slam in heaven,
is that what causes earthquakes?
am I a real poet
will anyone ever read my work
or will it just go un noticed will my voice ever reach the atmosphere

I'm fighting
to scream louder than the others
to give a voice to the kids who were better at algebra than english
because they don't have the creative capacity to say these things

am I a real poet

As fences are felons we take turns
Tearing them all to little pieces
Palaces fall in the morning
For they alert us of our tiny perspectives
We sell our breath to the haggard
The hecklers can take
These letters of recommendation to the grave with them
I would rather take you to bed with me
But you are not ready to let me
Imbibe that watery something yet
It's like honey without the bees or the bumbling
We are troubled by troops of covetous warriors
Awarding our appetites with only knives and comforters

The projector is a woman
A human
A dreamer
Made out of jumper cables and breadcrumbs
Your thumbnails are tumbling
Head over heels to meet her
We see the sharpened glass
And as fast as we can cash out
We make a run for the patio
A ladder up the stairs
With hatred in our hands
And nothing left in our hearts to sell
We are accompanied by monkeys
And men in tuxedos
A loose cannon blooms
And shoots through the wall
A canopy collides
With a visually challenged individual
How are you so full of persuasion, she asks
A mix of liberation and a margarita
I am dreaming of the ocean
A perfect place to lie in the sun and dry off my shoulders
With common purpose
We surf the sound of metaphors crashing
In flashes of crayons
And wet paint sprayed haphazardly
We explain our philosophy to the gravediggers
We keep waking them
Until our hourglasses need fixing
We are shifting in our sandals
And refolding our blankets every hour
The old magic is tangled in your hair
And I just can't stop staring at you
Are you really even here
I hope you don’t mind
That the winter is alive with the sound of nature
We are naturally blinded by infrared romantics
Yet bound to find our souls in the middle
Our blood is equipped with spit and spirit
And it fits right into our heart
We are shifting stratospheres
For there was a lonely place here
Even before the earth appeared, forever naked
We are infiltrating the epicenter of the universe
A purposeless poem
Lost in the wind
Folded to begin with
Now we are unfolding
Opening
Unraveling, traveling
Our trembling fingers tenderly touch
Yet we must not rush
Or we're likely to make a mistake
We're better off avoiding

Are you awake my love
A lady is any place with a river
And I have a shivering mind
That's only at home in the forest
We must run for the sunlight is fading
I was amazed by the crazy and the cryptic
Until you deciphered the pied piper’s rhythms
And sent him packing again in his knickers
We are wrapped in sand yet can't understand
All these candid cancellations
In the middle of November
Remember the time you ran for president
I was expecting you back home before the world ended
Do you fancy a kiss in the darkness
We can always make use of this fireplace
It tastes like turmoil and thunder
And a sundry sauntering caper
Just waiting to properly happen