Release the bowels and scrub the shame
Metal grit hand-towels
A curious novelty I would come to know as omen
Tacky pink tiles- well noted

Return to see my identity bereaved
Or maybe just my clothes
Strange how they blend in turmoil
No fear for the pistol at my gut, braved in its defense
No fear for thugs I make my company
Even as silent secrets are sent racing across fingertips
I am untouchable

A crowd grows, a debaucherous menagerie
Of Drug abuse and ****** bliss; the **** grows
Time and place erase
Two blue lakes of cotton; now green vines of vinyl
It makes no matter: the **** grows

It grows until memory is no more
Just a fear – what has happened?
And her face is there, the soft skin
The sharp features. The sly smile.
Soft mahogany and Serpent eyes
A beauty you cannot surmise
“You were mine, and I was you.
Taken as I’ll take again”
Then our next meeting, not so far from then
As the scratching record is played again
In headphones meant to control
Resist!
She has my arms, too weak to move
She has my neck, strained to turn
They will take you, and then
YOU will be no more, just a thing
A servant to this beckoning
RESIST!
This battle in your mind, control
As the beat grows louder, that maddening din
So full of fear as you entertain it’s sin
What can you do, once it’s powers in?
HELP! I mean to cry
But nothing with my lips so dry
HELP! I try to choke
All that leaves is wisps of smoke
HELP! And there it is
A whisper, for what the battle did
~ “help” I groan, and finally awake.

Shivering fanblade
I never really noticed
Through all my years of coyote defenses
To silicone distractions of varying degrees
Still you have shivered, dancing over me
Guarding my domain through my exits
Ever shimmering, unnoticed.
Until now, as the beetle’s poison devours my feet,
And I cannot move.
Finally I can say

Thank you.

These old fingers have nothing left to say
These old fingers have naught but decay
These old fingers long to race away
These old fingers cry to me all day

Memory. Facility. Long benign productivity
Child, its me. Don’t fear to be friendly
For it’s a long time since me and you last met
Theres a few things, we’ve lost between, I bet

Something about “to pass the time”
I couldn’t really hear
Through the muffled cough
And shuffled feet

The sounds rush in and out
Incomplete
Somehow more beautiful for it
Schedules personified, maybe

His missed directions
Do not preclude me
There is equal value
In inaction as its counterpart

Balance, I suppose
The oft referred key
That never seems
To make it off the ring

So do not trouble me
With your coffee cups
Adrenaline-fueled charades
Long unslumbered nights
Grand parading lead by myriad prophecies
-which one?

The frantic scurrying of your claws
As you dig, deeper, deeper
Fiending for the lunar eyes
That return curious, befuddled looks

There’s a secret I never told you
I don’t think he heard either
As he left
When you keep your mind sharp
The only surprises you find
Are the ones you don’t expect

Fear
Sometimes the light holds more terror than the darkness

Blanket troupe called finally finalizing finances
beseeched of asian seas and deformities
begone of witch's seeds
creeds,
and further formalities.

Controlled and sold away,
disney ears and candied shmears of salmon serendipity and forlorn serenity

collapse, perhaps?

can't strap the wrap of boot soles and cannoned poles
of butts and handles throwing sandaled barbarians in their foolish faith
For Empire!
the dire need of those to take and feed and be the god-men to tickle and bleed friends and foe alike,
to nettle the fangs of the good hounds blindly following;
scent dividing love and steeds to carry armies and lone conquerers to their final destinations, permutations of how so many flowers whittle at the broken touch of thunderous life;
of hidden strifes that attack these patient sentinels
their yelps yet signals of defeat so unburly pardoned