Our making love was keyboard strokes.
An oscillating UFO.
Flying across dimensions.
I found you titillating.
Late nights debating.
Finding rhyme from reason
but still abating.
I forgot your face like I forgot my password.
123456. Or was it 654321.
Wait maybe you were binary,
sometimes I like that.
011010010110110101101001011100110111001101111001011011110111010­1.
Well anyways,
I’ve experienced better days.
Clicking buttons. Surfing webs.
Google maps from A to B.
But never once would I have guessed
that this is where I'd be.

Energy, obedience, sociability with others.
The molding of man.
Who came first man or mothers?
Impossible it seems, to be next to our brothers.
Like we’re made in a tube by the chemist Carothers.

Through my own scrutiny our leaders slide effortlessly by.
Chevron. Monopoly . Then multiply.
Micky D’s. Big Mac with cheese.
OH and a large order of fries.
I’ll take a viral video over surprise or goodbyes.

The sound of the moon
In the tune of a rune
Calmed my poor soul
With a magical spell.
Dismay as I may
And I usually do
I caught the visage
A mirage, yes, of you.

The ****** truth was eaten and whole heartedly gone.
There was nothing now,
but burning pages of a long lost love story
here for only moments more.
For every different moment lost,
your beauty never faded.
And it’s dreadful,
that even with such perfect eyes
you let me go unseen.
What I have seen,
is dirt.
Dirt that grows from mounds of gold.
And gold.
Gold that was lost to chasing beauties,
and to greedy bearings.
It would be great to finally know you,
the creature you are now.
You leave me broken and breathless,
but I’m bold enough to love again.
Crooked, bent, and busted.
Here I lie,
the man you never trusted.

My soul is intertwined with metal and silicone.
Social interaction defined by discracebook.
My outlook, unswerving.
My very being, unnerving.
Consistently wondering what will come of my children.
And picturing how I will raise them in Meriden.
And of theirs, if they even exist at all.  
Now I stand tall.
Laughing at my own reflection.
A tyrant to myself.
Im packed tight with wires and GPS.

What a mess of humanity.
The man that I cannot be.
Groping and moaning for a woman I cannot see.
On the curtain of morning,
I wake up and go to ***.
Then I lay my *** down
and nod off to philosophy.

In Twenty thirteen
I learned to learn
And I learned to lean.
Mark off
The check box.
Mach 2.
Chicken pox.
We're Slowing down
away from the frown.
Back in town,
then out of town,
breaking down,
distracting sound.
*Then I am found
beneath the creature
which is myself.

Mind is melding
Molding man to mutt.
And sea is churning
solid shut.

So stop your dancing Picallo.
Ill let you know
when it's time to go.

Defining self
seems plausible,
improbable,
illogical,
and most easily psychological.

Time is flying
as time grows older.
Riding bike
and falling over.
Time is now
and time is over.
Always looking
over shoulder.

Then, I picked my pieces back up off the ground.
Proving grounds
proved me grounded.
Each bone ringing
hollow sounding.
Man starts singing
leaping, bounding.
Ten fingers clinging,
you’ll stick around
to see man crowned.
Underneath compound
to new found pound
which is grave mound.
Then, I AM FOUND
by accident of ultrasound.