Trying to tap telegrams
On the back of my iphone
In a faux leather seat
In the back of my mothers car.
Anyone will tell you I have a
Knack
For the contrary
And there’s strangely no argument,
Where I got it from.
The seat belt sits uncomfortably across my throat,
Stopping my words,
A space formerly only occupied by her gaze,
Though my future career may benefit,
My current psyche does not.

Sitting next to a girl as unknown and distant as Poe’s old wife,
The elegant back road curves of her figure alluring,
Her hardened wit to rival the stone she studies,
Hands close to soft affection,
I scarcely believe our mutual attraction,

I liked to spring forth from the bushes
Trying to catch my 2009 year old friend mid March

The burning heat as firewood’s crackling glowing heart
Erupted from my knees as my own
Feet had fought each other to which was going to be placed
Seeing red white and blue the Final chalk
Me up as scraped with fireworks of every decibel explodes in
My head

Its back backed by the drum beat of a song we cant ever remember
But will never forget

I knew the first swallow of vinegar salt-water memory
Would not leave me in peace
But awaken my wolf’s hunger
For pensive penance

Which leaves me thrashing my boots, khakis, coat,
Sweater, watch,
Suddenly immersed in the pure sapphire blue,
Of my past.

Coffee shops, Like brains,
Mock the idea of ridged conformity

People of all shapes and sizes
All makes and models
All styles and varieties
Wander through looking for single refreshment
The background weight of memories caught in my coat
Pull me down until I’m sputtering, splashing,
In the days I've lived,
Or days I've just watched.

But no day as no person in need of quenching
Stops for long
Each just here to slow down my day
Just here to do me death by a thousand charms
Treacherous tenacity of “what if” at the counter
Tears a hole inside my heart

****, I’ve been high since,
Since I was a kid,
I get lofty and light,
With the rest of them,

Granted my high was that due to elevation
And not escapism,

The Beech is the best place to go on a summer’s day

The weather like a warm blanket begs you to stay outside,

The branches crisscross across the sky,
Saving me from any toss,
Letting me think thoughts,
Of rushing from aerie heights,

I bend with The Beech,
And its soft coarse bows,
Match the gentle Maternal caress of the sweet summer breeze,
Beckon me into natural,
Seats, grown just for me,
As I have grown to be worthy of it

The clouds
Gentle behemoths
Meander beyond boundaries,
But never lose their lackadaisical luxuriousness

They’ve informed me
Today,
Today is the day for,
A climb,

I spider up the trunk and branches,
More mother’s ladder to father’s rays,
Even at the slight height,
I feel his tender gaze,
And embrace,
Protecting me from the ludicrous idea of failing,
Falling

A flash of unripe banana green hair,
And the solemn padding of thumbs hitting a screen,
The wisp’s of dying flame,
A worn sticker on a pure evening blue water bottle,
The tight warm grip,
Of a beanie on my head,
The soft wind that air vents disperse,
The crisp smell of a sparse winter’s day,
Like wasabi, but clogging my nose instead of cleaning it,
The din of speaking and eating in a popular coffee shop,
And I’m just on my way to class

I’ve always been told that I have a nice nose,
So Andrew’s kind words graced my back
As the rays of light from the sun
Those rays so warming, free me each morning from the

Quivering fingers inside your throat choking
Moist clammy tongue caressing your neck
Tearing your toes apart
That Priest darkness always gifts

Sweetly, softly, kindly
From behind,
To me

In my own
Quickening of heart shaking of limbs screaming silenced search of eyes

Ive overlooked one thing

The silly sleepy fluffy tail of my best friend
And my folly in footwork leaves him whimpering
And me begging forgiveness prostrated