I want to fall asleep to the sound of rain
and wake up to birdsong
feel the chill of morning
the warmth of the day's sun
fill my lungs with the smoke of dusk
then do it all again

listen closely
...ssssszzzssssstt!
you miss this amongst the company of others
the smell of juniper
(almost like bark)
that beloved word
so close to Jupiter
her rings an engagement to us all
(for our world)
benevolence // protection
(or a curse?)
could've been stellar dust
instead paramecium
plus-plus
double-plus
plus-us
+++
instead here we are
drinking fizz & juniper
till we forfeit our favour
(insatiable fervour)
with the fates, and Jupiter
juniper, juniper
'tis such, 'tis such
for now, it's enough.

in these modern days
it only takes a couple frames
to convey
(the illusion of)
perfection

now we have this part
that ticks and spins
and whirs away
don't be in the moment!
you can capture it!
to put on display

so look at me
I'm just like you
I'm happy, too!

except behind the scenes
to me, it seems
a shade darker
that we're spending all this time
looking at screens

called by a new world
leave this one behind
the people here
are all losing their minds

I'll have to stay
but there's hope for you
I was born too soon
for tomorrow's crew

with the void between us
you'll stand a chance
here, we'll fall together
with our crumbling plans

remember not to take
our madness with you
up there, stay together
like we've failed to do

and when you see our home
rise up in the sky
know we'll be looking back
and bidding goodbye

there's something sinister
about lightning - in winter
sparks, amidst the clouds
flashes in the grey
the chill, the howl
that echos
off the walls
inside us all

you will be corrupted
by your first taste of flesh
(her's and the lamb's)
bequeathed craven hungers
of conquest and slaughter
indulged for millennia

you will discover hate
the heft of steel
weight of coin
fuel of greed
A BURNING FIRE
and an unquenchable thirst

you will scrabble at the walls
you will leave bodies in your wake
you will curse your own
you will give this to your kin

we will do this again
and again
and again
and again

we are beholden to the creators
lest we create the substance they give us ourselves
torturous silence without them
we'd while it away, regardless
till the end

there's a certain texture to this moment
to the bare walls
that have surrounded me all this time
and that I've only noticed now

although the room is quiet
I still hear the city's noise
and the muffed din
of those next to me, but far away

the din of those
who aren't spending these moments
to stop, and smell
the absence of roses

the sun, she gives warmth
closed eyes
beads of sweat
and brimming smiles

the flower, a spectacle
a promise of sweetness
and honey gold

the field is ours
alone, and glowing
with the closest I've known
to heaven, yet
so fly!

these pretty things we tell ourselves
conjured from misshapen realities
abstracted, sifted, & distilled
till sweet as honey
drank in for vitality
their warmth sustaining
bearing halos over our eyes
like coins, awaiting collection
at the end of this absurd, rapturous quest
with its solitary end;
relief.

don't take me in my sleep
that would be a robbery
to miss the experience
and reflect upon it

give me a moment, or two
and make it hurt
just enough
for me
to recognize
that it is
the end.

Emily's best words
were found, left in a chest
today, how many Emilys
are lost
between the 1s and zeros
never to be heard?

I watch snow flurry
thru streetlight halos
the wind bites
its venom ice
relishing the sting
while breathing smoke

getting home would be faster
by crossing the river
marked by footprints of the brave
but I bide my time
on the long way round
grinning thru the chill

I look towards the woods
time seems to slow
as snow meanders down
I stop and listen
to winter's muted sounds
then resume my stride

there's something ancient in our bones
a primal lust for dark indulgences
forbidden in this day
some of us still relish
the salt & sinew
of the **** we no longer make ourselves

will we ever lose that part of us
that wants to hunt, ****, and ****
and howl at the moon
after spending so long
caged in concrete

we long for it to turn to ash
for freedom
and for benediction
from the sins
we are about to commit

I always think of you
during a storm
we shared a love for them
as we did for each other
for a while

and it's too easy
to compare what we had
to a storm
so instead I'll sit
watch the rain fall
and remember your sunny smile

I had something to say
for but a moment
it must have been brilliant!
for me to miss it so
but alas, now it's gone
slipped away
and despite how hard I reach
I'm left with this instead
oh well.

in a flash it got dark
hope y'all have been enjoying the view
'cross my balcony to yours
the darkness lets you see in
my flickering amber silhouette
jumping from hall to hall
my mute shouting (to you)
gesturing, pointing at walls
glass in hand
subtitles of ice clinking
condensation dripping
a sweating brow
my ******* obstinate, silent riposte
crash to the couch in defeat
oh yeah, the blinds, the blinds
and to you, your perspective - goodnight
what's left is mine, and mine alone

faith and death walk hand in hand
you have faith the end is the end
or have faith it isn't
stalking behind those lovers
is the fear
that your faith
and the truth
aren't the same

there is both not enough time
and far too much
to suit my tastes

I want to do a million things
read every book
and experience the bounty of the world

I want to do nothing
stare at trivialities
and while the day away

I want to live a thousand years
be awed by the greatness we achieve
or by the machinations of our destruction

I want today to be my last day
to find the peace I never could in waking
yet I persist

I want those flecks of gray
thru my temples
on my chin
shining away
I want to be granted
the title of "distinguished"
simply at a glance
cause truth is
I didn't do too much
with all these years
that've slipped away
I'm in my autumn
smilin' at those spring kids
jaunting down the street
side by side, unrepentant
pushing me onto the long grass
soon snow's crunching
beneath my feet
and closed eyes
as those crisp flakes fall
settling finally down
ad infinitum
while I'm gone

the spider on my balcony has five legs, not eight
I think to myself, what a pity, that its struggles are!
though I stop myself and ask; is having five legs worse than eight?
I've only two!
so how can I tell?

well! its web is different than those I've seen
less ordered, less dense
at times it flails before it pivots, to conjoin the lines
disorder! we know that to be a curse!
what a curse! what a curse! to affront the mold!

yet it persists, holding on, with its five legs, not eight
in the wind, in the rain, it deigns to ensnare those
whom, I suppose, lack its elegance - trickery, and guile
plodding on, eventually grasping the next thread
linking twine to twine
harmonizing strands
as I think of its life, and mine
and mine,
and mine,
and mine.

**** negative space
give me generosity
and bounty
a cornucopia
all to myself
if this is going to be worth it
we need to do it with some zest
and ******* zeal
in an age where we marginalize zealots
(not advocating for them)
H-Y-P-E-R-*******.i.n.g-partisan
no middle ground
(huge space in-between)
a void, voids, we know voids
THE N-E-G-A-T-I-V-E...
   S   P   A   C   E  
from voids within us
is room for harmony
sunflowers
you


me

and
harmonious
D     -     I     -     N

there are so many rabbit holes
that I want to explore
twists and turns
leading to gems and demons
hidden deep beneath the earth

which should I choose?
I ought to hurry
as my clock ticks down
there isn't time for them all
oh well.

there exist far too many systems of which I do not wish to be a part
systems inextricably entangled with every aspect of Being
they are unavoidable, no matter how far I step back
they lurk behind me, around me, in every direction
slowly reaching towards me, with spidery fingers
they circumvent my attempts at stasis, my seeking of peace
glancing against them reveals their depth and putrescence
their touches spark blinding, scalding light
light flaring in the minds eye, which cannot be shut by any means
well... except for one.

in the summer I miss the snow
and in the snow, the summer
when I'm with others, I want to be alone
and when alone, I want to be with others

our bodies shared their heat
one’s promise to the other
of vitality and sparks
broken at morning’s parting
till their tangled reunion at dusk

now there is a space next to me
a coroner’s outline
that feels sacred
it only echoes
and promises nothing
but a chill

they say I should talk to you
even tho you're gone
that it helps
(me I guess)

what can I say? what's new with me?
nada, dear
I am a static object
sitting here & ruminating, without you
I've so much time...

so how is the other side?
I bet you take to it well
when it's my turn, you'll be there
to show me the ropes
and share sunny smiles

we'll take back our goodbyes
we were lucky enough, at least
to spend some of your fleeting time
on those, so for now, till tomorrow
goodbye.

we can't all be the architect of something beautiful
but to lay the bricks to beauty, and recognize
is often enough

this body is a resilient thing
bequeathed to us
our scrapes and bruises
found in moments of frivolous joy
and our dark experiments of flirtation
taught us little
didn't change how we acted
we grew calloused, over time
we lost that keen edge
given to a new blade
it got us here
but here, we found ourselves stranded
writing screeds 'bout nothin' 'nor the other
and what was it all for?
but to bring us 'round
for another round
again, and again, and again.

the best part of the champagne is the sound
effervescent spiky staticy tv on the wrong channel sound
(back when tvs could be on the wrong channel)
detuned radio's perverted whispers twisted 'round freaky frequency and amplitude sound

ah, the **** of this
somehow envibing makes the words pour out
that old cliche 'bout writers
where would we be without 'em
our toasts less profound, at least
ting ting ting

fewer songs to go with the crack of fireworks
groaning accordions
and all the other ancient anachronistic ephemera persisting
like us, persisting
for another round

to put words down
when I'm so enamoured with those I've laid before
to think myself to be inferior to my past self
surely is a milestone
that from here we swim down towards
that THING
that dreadful, thing
we've reckoned with
since we lost our first friend
the hampster, the gecko, the end
and beloved L-
there's nothing to fill in past here
cause we've spent our unique gems
out into the ether
with little recompense
started by musing on 1s and Zeroes
'course I always saw myself as the letter
and as always, this is not for you
das ist nicht for zie
like Zampano
most I can hope for
is esoteric footnotes
lost in hallways
always
(and forever)

there is such great art in this place we inhabit
but for a blink of a moment
it's on our walls, copied or true
it pours into our ears
it drums our heart
how can we not SCREAM
as I pass you in the street
drinking this in
soaking in sun
the places we're going may not be great
aren't great
but that BLEED of sound as we pass by each other
staticy howls of bliss
in THAT world
is where we should be
HOW are we HERE
instead
as the sun beats down
the cicadas purr and whine
and vision narrows but to a point
how are we here
when there is such great art
the moments past, I fear I've lost so much
of what could've been
on this track, my track
as it slows to a rumble
cars on rails
ba-dum... ba-dum...
till I sleep, till I face the eternal
nothing of note poured out these fingers
no art - no great art
and what was it for?
but to be a witness.

earth is a place in which a poem is produced at least once a minute
or so it seems
HePo has spaces in between
how we love to linger amongst those
but not everything ends up here
and so much goes unsaid
there is ink on page - an anachronism in these days
as waves crash down on sand - unrelenting
on all the beaches
witnessed or unwitnessed
lost in the solar wind
perchance, I saw yours
perchance, you saw mine
and perchance, an arc sparked, cross this distance
in this fleck of time