Spring is
Just like a mother
That has borne flowers

Into the depths she glides
Natures killing machine
Muscles and teeth
The great white
Looks up at the surface

Waiting, waiting
For a seal to silhouette
In the sun
Suddenly with a thrusting tail
Heads to the surface like a torpedo

Collision course
Seal impact
Teeth gnash
Blood runs
Lunch is served

Dear mr no it all
Why do you no?/
Is it because your insecure
What do you no?/
Because of the before's
You no?/
Mr no it all
Afraid of the future
You, don't no/
You never no
All the time/
Yes, I no
Every some time
But you no forever/
You no better
Than any one I no
Lesser/
to no more
Everyone no's Now/
I no Your no
Mr no it all/
You no so much
Your head should
Fall off/
Shaking it back and forth
That's a no no/
No thing new
No hits no way/
Mr no it all
I bet you no
What I'm gone say/
That's old it's a knew day/
I no mr no it all
I maid a mistake/
I can clean it up
You'll know some day/

There are thirty of us under a torn canopy
where the sound of wind blowing against canvas
assaults me as if I were being beaten. We will
soon ride into the hills and **** pine; to fell
the mighty as if the mighty are horseweeds.
Every callused man here  hates his weapon;
worn chainsaws that would make  better
tools to fight  wolves than walk the earth
clearing  stands of timber.
**************
Twelve of the original thirty loggers come back
for our 48th consecutive day; it rains as if  prehistoric
elk hover over the camp and **** a lake upon us.  Six men
go home within an hour because farming and stocking
cans of tuna at grocery stores appear more plausible than
wallowing in mire with saws, wedges, and chains with links
the size of your mother’s fist.  It is work and *******
every man  needs to eat or help feed a family.  The money
is not good, conditions like Czechoslovakia WW II.  

The six of us who remain, leave.

You don't make me cry anymore.
When my mind glides by your amorous glow,
Our past no longer slows my rhythm.
You struck a chord, and our light diminished.
A musicians sword, cuts like a prism.
This prison I've put us in,
Is no longer fitting,
For rainbows arch too far from tradition,
And a white dress only fits on a ******.
It's urgent that,
I spell check my wording, cause
My inner workings are always flirting with
The idea of falling for you again.

I know you are lying there,
probably unconscious
of where you are,
I know you wanted to
find a backdoor to finally end
your journey to the stars,

But I want you to know,
you will one day be able to
breathe on your own,
one day, you will recognize
your beautiful body as
your beautiful home,

An overfilled vessel,
filled to the brim with
the complications of existing,
I know you are in pain,
but sweet Hope,
I know you'll smile again.