I want to love
Everything.

Each morning when I awake
with golden sunlight
breathing in bed beside me,
I want to step outside
get on my knees
and run my fingers through the grass,
Moaning.

I’ll roll in the grass
and cover myself in fallen leaves,
lie on my back with my jacket wide open
and let the sky take me.

I want to stand up and grab the trees
with my hands,
crying out with the aching sweetness
of my silent
Lovers.

I will have the same feelings
for each staircase I ascend,
my feet treading on the very spines
of these great fretted buildings,
I love them all.

This is the way to live.
With that great language of love,
in your eyes always.

Our lives unfold
atop these sloping curves
the very surface of this great rock
into which we have so unthinkingly carved
Out a living.

Civilization’s mark,
the roads, the buildings, the mines,
you should stand atop a mountain
on a cool night,
gaze off at an urban skyline
in the distance.

I am a lonely blister
On this one great stone.

It’s easy to miss this.
each tree, each blade of grass,
a constantly dancing
mating ritual.

Majestic,
leaves and branches
****** outward
To stroke the world.
It’s ****.
These ancient creatures
Hanging over us.

What artwork!
The sculptures of  twisted branches,
knotted bark.

The cars and people
fly by day after day,
forgetting to notice.

Slow down,
Press your fleshy palms
against an aching body,
Listen to It calling out

Love me.

--Jack Singer

Churning violently
Hurricanes rage
and gyrate,
great torrents
of hurdling water and wind.

Volcanoes and their magma plains,
places where the earth’s molten core
shows raw from between
bits of cracked and hardened skin,
reminding us of her birth.

Great patches of forests
sway gently in the breeze
like the crested wave tips
of vast green oceans
rolling over the hills and mountains.

Her oceans themselves
are glittering mirrors
dancing eternally in a world
different from ours,
beyond time, beyond history.

Slabs of frozen ice,
jagged and hardened, white and deep blue,
crumpled like slabs of granite,
they are defeated; they retreat.

Once there was coexistence, beauty,
Contented perfection.
But ever dissatisfied, we must now destroy her.

We seek something better,
Power, Control,
Synthesized immaculacy.

Why?
Why struggle and ruin
When it is everywhere beneath our feet,
Whispering silently
Songs of forgotten majesty.

You feel it
quivering like thick wet bass strings
Far beneath you,
rumbling deep within you,
In a secret place.

Push it down.
Try to swallow.
It’s not working.
It pushes to the surface
chokingly,
stronger now,
that bile taste
In the back of your throat
more real suddenly.

It scampers up the inside
Of your ridged esophagus,
Its padded feet
Clinging and skiddering
quickly up the dark sides.
The damp passageway
Convulses
As if to throw it down
But still it climbs
Squirrelishly
Wriggling.

It is faster now and closer
Even closer.
It is closer now and faster
Even faster.
You realize suddenly
you are trapped.
here amongst the crowd,
Surrounded on all sides
by thousands of pulsing bodies,
Only they don’t seem to see
The impending doom.
You will have to submit
To it.

Wildly
Frantically, you claw at your surroundings,
at the very earth itself you have to escape
there is no other way.
There is a guttural desperation to your cries
shooting forth from your throat
and you do not recognize it.
It is closer now and it is faster and Holy
****
This is the end.

You pull at your hair,
Claw scarlet marks down your face
It is too much to bear
It will consume you.
You feel the very pieces of your mind
Torn apart, shearing past each other
Like tectonic plates and the world
is no more and the world
doesn’t know you anymore
it is closer now this thing this terrible thing
yes you see it now.

It is all so clear now that you can see it.
Of course this is doom.
It is complete now and the world
as you knew it is ripped and torn asunder
as easily as houses are obliterated in tornadoes
and you grab the sides of your head in complete
panic  as it climaxes
and takes over
Entirely.

The rising sun
is already glaring down
from high above the horizon
by the time I get up

Bleary-eyed and squinting
at the light pouring through
in violent spears
through opened shades.

My bed sheets,
rank and stale
with damp sweat,
cling to my skin,
my face and curled hair
that hangs in greasy tendrils,

and I rise from that foul lair
grudgingly.

**** this day.

I get lonely
Way up here on the 5th floor,
in the corner of the hall.

And one day I thought I saw
You,
far below,
walking towards the building.
she had your hair,
your walk and your structure,
your same beauty
that is not self conscious.

My eyes lite up,
I sat up straight in my chair,
peering down eagerly,
I felt a prickling up my legs,
she wore your same
light green tank top.

But it was somebody else
and I put my head down,
and went back to reading
and wondering
if you’d call me
one of these days.