It's Friday night,
a still blue dark eyed sky
a band plays

It's years removed from the time I wrote about
the bells and how they swing
in the tower to my left
I still hear them
how they cling cling BANG
and I am with you
and I am alone
                          tomorrow is coming
and in two years I'll be here with the bells

cling cling BOOM

and there will be a woman or a man
sipping on coffee
or speaking
                    softly,    and the bells
                                                        
cl­ing cling BANG

I walked into a sandwich shop with a woman who believed in meditation and growling at the dirt in the desert. We saw a well dressed black man and we were 5,280 miles away from him, but he had a nice suit, so I said so.

In these hours
I look at your face  
I think
We two, separated, so long.

You with your drugs and ***, miniscule friends.
Celebrating a pale youth down bright corridors.
Me stagnating inside a corner or a cabinet of a deep red mind.
Brushing away cobwebs for years,
finally, to make room for you.

When we met again,
On the beach
Or on a ***** sidewalk
Or in the basement
Or with you beside me

With patiently thick fingers
Me screaming
**** me, **** me

It wasn't enough that time to ease the physical pain.
Years of ******* standing slouching smoking,

The complete erasure of my past coming in waves and then, suddenly,
Creeping back into the dark next to the spiders:

A man here, taking me for granted,
A dress with a tear near the knee,
An empty space
A mother placing her daughter tightly away in a large granite box a top a musty gray shelf and waiting outside with the key.

And me inside
And me inside

And the music, a century of loneliness and terror
others and their pain and my own

It all crashed down yesterday

Aha!
         I've got you now!

In the wasteland of my mind
an idea like a tumbleweed
interrupts the landscape.

space folds around its pointed form

time scatters like mice before its untethered gait

as it makes its way
to the bright center of the barren mound it was born to,
leaving no stretch of its path unchanged,
intruding upon the atmosphere's stubborn scarcity
                  with the fullness of a growl
darting from the mouth of a shapeless traveler
forced upon the world through birth.

Howling with the bittersweet memory of the womb, calling out for its home in the stars.

Reaching the mound
it lights up with the flame of intention
and seizing its grasp on action,
finds its way to the mouth

and in telling you how I love you

       the silence swallows it whole

                  when you don't say a thing.

I woke up to screams from a stolen razor.    Where is it?   It was a loud scream.          The end comes swiftly, anyway,
and, if there are no razors around, it comes even faster.                        
 
At the top of the mountain, the anger flows to the valley, and there is no scream.                                  
In the valley, we wait.                
There is a pull from a cigarette.                               
Small talk that is not small talk.                                        
A man wheezes   
A woman wonders where she'll go tomorrow                                          
it comes out as a laugh
                  and lightly in the background plays a song that can only be called the disease of the 80's.                                       
 
We didn't need another.                                     

But, thank you.

Any Patriots welcome interrogation manipulation coerce this patient showing errors of my ways challenging thinking need a reboot? Write it backwards a queen asleep in the storm of God's prayers a list to the mother crucified to their delight.

I fight.

Parental ****
Advisory vague
Plague

Use my vision see only derision personal shadow devalued
Worlds shadow that binds to grey vanity in the words they pray
Hard headed we're right moving again feeding that bread
That heaven sent
Fire earth we start again
Fear no man I heard one say
Sufficient
Know yourself
Question on a soul level stand for no shovels
Doctors who probe and answer my yes' nos' emptiness grows on this plane we call home. JOB.

The living breathe every day in my stride I speak I pray the word my home not the bombs they throw. My body my own not the pills they grow. This patient knows and this jezebel crows that she follows the word I heard

no, it's deep in the soul

Hers dark and sold, forgiveness on the day the droning drops
                                               drops
Away

In my mind the play speak on your strength let your regret pass away let the beast decay that you made

In my loneliness
Weeping
Crying to the beating
All around the
World feeling
The home we're receiving.

Charming clever old soul...removing wisdom from those who seek hail mary hail Mary,a presence, knowledge replacing misery in cavernous...peeks royalty in myth and death, to requiem lost those honest pets, trunking ships and warheads eating and consuming course, blood thick tempting toward destruction.

Beautiful carnal sacred soul...you mock her love for salvation, red lips hands shaking a priestess laid bare...sinners, saints in garden deep and devil wakes....royal blood meek heart of Eros.

Spirited angelic ethereal souls...stare into pools where Narcissus prayed, Brutus cleaved, Daniel betrayed, disarming kings, cut off by fates, Jesus, Mary and his flame.