black is the sand.
long is the posture.

cedars are split for us_in honor of the ages that will pass before they rot
away

set.
i don’t want you to think that i am anything but the attic stairs.you will know me well by the dust and dryseasoned timbers.i hold your artifacts safe for later.short to long term storageit’s always a bad estimation until it all sets in.rinse and re-but.the birds are all car alarms around here_it’s their version of neoclassical heavymetal.i know you know

it’s a breadcrumb world out there
and we are hungry in the woods

i wait beside the echoing pool
you trace out the lost path dripping down your thigh like a map
throat open and maw-ful
throat full and maw-open

lung fire
feeding on the wilderness .
belly-hot-want

our roots are :
/delvers
/divers
/descendantary.No


forests become obfuscations for removal :
[lost] is landless now
and a new animal arrives
it feeds on our  l o n g i n g  .
until we are starved and treeless•gut-ruptured full of promises


i roll you back onto your side
cheeks flushed_but cold

[do not hold harmless that which harms us]

i rake my hands across your heavy thing
you shake like eons in passing
you quake my heavy thing
you real my fake away

you shout me a look like little plastic pieces of the physical battleship board-game getting knocked to the floor.i know
i see it
we leave the reassembly of the coffeetable gamestate and the rest of polite society’s dubious mercies
to the next pair of fools.🔫.🧬🏺.🧹.⛓️🐺⛓️ ≥🐺.
too cool to go down with someone else’s
ship/too hip to flip.

the early adopters of fashionable trends know
that self-fulfilling prophecy-core is in this season

wear it hard while there’s still seasons to witness . prove some social fitness . don’t say anything that your keyboard can’t predict_

counting the world on your fingers
counting.

The ultimate thing?


You use what ever you have
You do what ever you can
You artifice Art

No more -no less
Nothing better has ever been attempted.
Attempt it.
Every single second. The world needs it
Hard.

the roadrash of the path ahead
mars the viable skin graft of
her tender side-
haunch forward,
too towards the future to care and

Nothing more to addd

And what I have seen is that it is always exactly what it has always looked like

Gut get good and go do some
We need it.

31 is the new dead
I’ve had a glas of *****
And the only promise I’ll ever ask of you
Is to play iron and wine - trapeze *******
At my funeral if I die before you

P.S.
Promise 1.5 :
Slap anyone who is not listening and just talking, right in their useless open eyeballs

Until next time,
Signing out-

The bad good kid,
The one who almost found home

hands of hate

those who seek to brand knowledge as private property
prioritize destruction above all else

do not let them

the arrogance to act.
the hope without good reason .

the necessary prerequisites for
animation :

tilting at the gamma-wind, ye
terminal fingers (flowering buds) of the bloodline

homesick meteor,
deep with longing

heavy ,mineral heart

first, man imagined god_
then, he built it

with mother-minded longing .
from that lonely vantage in space

hope for the future
respect for the past
but not to the point of disservice towards the  
now

in the power of human beings to change the world
and the enormous weight of responsibility that comes along with that.

the falling
is all too
easy

the sphere of the electron cloud
steps down

into

release .


this will fit into the corner of the basket of my words ,
but is not exhaustive
of

work

the shape of a moment
your geometry in bloom



the Real Thing
is finding out

is being what
happens


is Here .

artificial doesn’t mean not Real .
passions are self-crafted.
we are self-drafted_

is

we linger
in those fuzz-****** images of
Home.
we take off, rocket-wise, and at heart-fast velocities
into the gathering pools of time
like lamp-centric product placement in the moth-saturated marketplace sector
like film
over whatever’s left in the glass
when you’re
done
i’ve  decided not to be
i’ve decided to swallow what once hunted
us
Here .

is a flyswatter kind of love.and i am the unread newspaper pages wrung out before the casualty of your tightening/grasp.

[balance the world with your heart]

etherium
elysium
etc.

holds us.historically hostage
as our.future splays out like frayed wires
under the nav panel before [me]
this is your captain speaking,
we are going to be hitting some bumpy
a|r
remain seated/as you dare

7% eden.one part broken universe
android 1992
true
tears of the maiden

bionic metatarsals
perch of the harpy

home inside the Holocene

hey,prophecy-breaker, be cool.

where did these virtues come from?


peace beside your thought, nation
god is a Gun.
so what is Man?

shame to isolate them
fear to motivate them
love to move them as necessary .



power likes
predictability .

and big prediction breeds power.

wilt at the tolling of enough
bells

free.pop
picnic.punk
polish on a broken nail

hope is a checkered story of
homewardliness  - whatever that may come to mean

if you want to know what love feels like
then you know what love feels like .and if you find out that everyone feels the same way too_you will come to know how to love

you’re my handgrenade angel
and you’re close enough, baby
you’re close enough baby .

oh god, i hope it’s close enough_

//:and even after they fixed the boiler
you still turn the water to cold at the end of the shower

the difference between an act of friendliness and an act of friendship.

makes people feel safe.

you need to fight

have little things
that you move around

i can’t stress enough,
the importance of s t r etching

what have you done

with your world in one hand and the worlds of others in the other
teach us something before the summer
drys up the river
and delivers us from our hearts

the knowledge in the world is meaningless
if not paired with action .
words suffice for action only insofar as they catalyze the words and actions of others .
that is the lesson : learned the hard way
as all lessons must be,if they are to be learned at all

lest lessons be lost to regurgitated.immolation

beats us senseless as it beats off .

******* all the wilderness out of the world.

the blue bamboo print on your white shirt
wrinkles me in to
home

(hand over heart) this is a right.
(forefingers to the temple) this is a privilege .
( both hands cupping the stomach) this is a fight for survival.