Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
bobby burns Mar 2015
my grace is cherubic,
seraphic, angelic,
she is a temple built
upon skepticism.

my boy wears a sloth-suit
and is swept away by even
the weakest rapids after
dipping only his pinky toe.

my grace is a hefty FAFSA award,
and she is report card dinners,
a new-blue honda, a heartbreak,
she is coming home to  do laundry.

my boy is a defect, anomalous,
he cannot bide his time and so
rushes. i chase him to the city
limits and hope he'll get it right.

my grace is building strength,
compartmentalizing, sequencing,
she is careening into career
and coping/moping with loss.

my boy is behind, he's lazy.
he shirks, avoids, evades,
any escape, any port, no storm,
he has to bring something else,

he only sits with us when he
wants something. he spends
time with us when it serves
his agenda, his procrastination,

he likes men; he's abnormal,
he has to bring something
extra to the table or else
it will reflect badly on me.

i never went to college.
i rarely did my homework,
so my daughter, son, my wife,
they bear the brunt of my avoidance.

my grace breaks down while
student-teaching. i love her.
my boy aces econ test after
physics quiz. i tolerate him.
siblings from father's view
(get me out of this house)
"'Lazy' may well be another term for 'efficient,' as so many love to romantically remark, but it nevertheless has a vague connotation of '..drowning in a distorted sense of responsibility, dimension, and progress, with symptoms including a stupefying lack of initiative,' but, yes: 'laziness' is a sort-of pursuit of 'efficiency-'
with no intention or willingness to bear the responsibility of exertion.

A system cannot be said to be efficient
if it bereft of energy by which it might do work, however efficiently.

Put your energy where your mouth is.
It's cool to kick it once it's done,
but, for now: ante up or fold."
A cute joke gone philosophically wrong.

I'm lazy, but I'm working on it.. well, chiseling away at it, really. Okay, fine! I'll start working on evolving as a conscious being first thing tomorrow, I promise! Right after I hit the snooze button for the umpteenth time.
bobby burns Mar 2015
yeah i'm angsty,
angst-ridden,
angst-infested,
angst-infected,
weren't you
(i leave the question marks off rhetoricals because it's only honest)
no no no no no more metaphor. i'm crashing headlong into this one:
i am a person. i write. i am a writer-person or maybe just a too-clever-person.
my parents are in debt, and my parents' parents went back to work at eighty.
my friends' parents are debtless and their parents' parents never stopped working.
there may only be a year of water left in California, but i need water, i run hot and my skin is uneven from cracking.
i'm tired from only resting one eye when i lie in bed, i sleep a solid eight hours each night. (just how sturdy is time)?
bobby burns Feb 2015
in the somatic nervous system,
acetylcholine (ACh) stimulates skeletal muscle, causing contraction

action potentials
in the 8am physio lecture,
the biggest on campus
crammed with nursing majors,
and health science hankerers,
public health preachers,
OT saints and angels

amino acid NTs: glutamate (+) GABA (-) aspartate (+) glycine (-)

the prof wrote on a distant whiteboard
too many complained about being lost
she made a joke about feeding *******
to mice for her neuroscience research

amines: serotonin (-) dopamine (-/+) norepinephrine (+/-) epinephrine (+)

STEM-dominated
when i'm just looking
to drop my roots
and press that
good earth into
the spaces between
my toes and
under my nails

but the grounds are a garden
of biodiversity from clippings
gathered by migrant habit-clad
founders more than a century ago

the soil is fertile            it is temperate
there are water filters in most residences

there is enough here for me
*(+) stimulatory (-) inhibitory (+/-) stimulatory or inhibitory depending on the type of receptor to which it binds.

there are two types of summation: spatial and temporal.

in spatial summation, many presynaptic neurons fire to a singular postsynaptic neuron.
in temporal summation, a single presynaptic neuron fires sequentially to a postsynaptic neuron.
bobby burns Feb 2015
25
when i spit the CO2
from me, gasping
rabid and rampantly,
i at least (at last)
will know how
to reconcile myself
with its parting
bobby burns Jan 2015
():
you've taken up too many characters,
a placeholder, 0, is all i attribute to you.

(I):
i lack recall enough
to call back when
we first reacted--
science fair, maybe,
mâche volcanoes
from wet bits--
(too little base,
a surplus of vinegar)
the only magma
with measurable
pH

(II):
made cattle to caffeine,
the pastures we frequented
have gone out of business
by now

(III):
spoke and wrote
with silly string,
messy, childish,
hard to clean up--
impossible to pick
every adhesive trace
from tweed coat fibers--
i draped it around you
and left quietly without
apologizing

(IV):
number four, morphine drip,
corruption (with a caramel center),
you took me to a courtyard where
you had scrawled your number
with a gold safety pin stuck
in the grain--
didn't matter as long as they
brought you plain grain beverages--
i can't say how long i must have
been unconscious for you to
have been able to fully affix
trusses, crossbars and artificial joints
between prostheses--
you made a marionette of me
in a grubby alley operating room,
with an empty bottle
across the occipital for anesthesia,
and a patchwork of phone numbers
staring down from the scratched
portrait in the wood walls
of office buildings surrounding--
keep your cloths on a little longer
keep yourself closed from now on
keep yourself close from now on


[V]:
think of whichever oath you hold
gravely, and think of me, promising
i felt just as illusory as you before--
saved a letter from you i read sometimes
to remind myself how first real loves
can be, so as not to lose faith to cynicism,
and cynicism/stomach lining to coffee grounds.
thank you

[VI]:
i met you only once,
it was enough.
i didn't make out your
last name as you introduced
yourself between zipping up
your fly and cinching your belt,
and even while you walked
inside, between dry heaves,
i could think only of
your Texan-tinsel-town namesake--
good luck streaming the past like
mother's ashes from the back of
your lake boat so many miles from home,
it's all anyone could ask

(VII):
i took that polaroid of you;
you had your hand over
a candle flame and the
shadows dancing between
your fingers illuminated
the spare patches of snow
remaining on the playground.
there was no mistaking
the draining of my swimming
pool of ego as i witnessed
you staring out from each
ice crystal reflection in awe:
your smile tumbled down
the slide and spilled into laughter
while
your voice lilted up the rock wall
and sang in triumph at the top --
i miss you, ganges girl

[VIII]/[IX]:
first time i knew,
second time i suspected,
finally broke me down,
now we laugh about it,
or preferably, don't bring
it up anymore

[X]:
i might still be in love with you
first and foremost, if that's how
things worked, but virginity
isn't a collateral asset, you did
me no favors,
but share in sunshine shoves
and pushes-- a beer down,
3g 'til the bottom of the bag,
alice and wonderland--
i can't watch that movie
without thinking of long hair,
self-destruction, self-deceit,
and naïveté--
you made me grow up with you,
and while you've been in college
i've been rotting.

[XI]:
i've whiled away a year of slacking words
in favor of those spouting from you torrentially.
a placeholder, for people i've written too much about already:
11.

[XII]:
unnerved me in the best of ways,
but you were always ****** up
and emptied of scruples--
had me once at your favorite album,
fooled me twice when you came back,
but you won't get another chance to
touch me

[XIII]:
snow-flakey,
corn comfort,
corn snake.
solid, supple,
untrustworthy.

[moscow]:
you spent a year abroad
so i had only one thing to call you,
and even though I brought my black
camo S&W; pocketknife,
when you told me ******
was cheaper than marijuana
in the motherland,
i knew i shouldn't
have soothed myself
into confident
complacency,
and instead
leapt from
the subaru
piled high,
tobacco-strewn,
littered by cremations
of victims before me.

[XV]:
i yawn and jaws part,
droop down lids,
the realist rendering
of a singularity in film
can't even keep me awake--
but when we get home,
and crawl into the satin
cascade of your mother's
sheets, god, i can't
even think of sleeping.
the moon was also full--
it wanes for awhile now
bobby burns Jan 2015
carpal tunnel
born of first-serve lets
and second-serve ace
comebacks --
from
sloughing off
winter coats
to share between
twelve --

my wrists are
less than echoes
and may have
been little more
to begin --

suspended
by gossamer,
brass-covered
lichen
and ticking fungi,
like man, (with his
whirling gears
and mad metals)
replaced
nature's course
with an automated
system --

i would rust
just to crack
but they keep
me too clean --
my sunspots
have fled to
warmer pastures,
i am milk-buckets
on overcast farm
dawnings, but surely
even they have seen
the light of day --

splashed my face
with wine
and rooibos
to see if i
would stain
like the canvas
metaphor
my generation
ascribes to --

maroon dispersion
in terra cotta wash,
twining around
a spiral course --
the folly of it
went ignored
'til my lost and
floating freckles
gathered at the
drain and clogged
the sink to overflow.
Next page