slow
but worth it

normcore kid- head like a buzzcut on

other people. teeth inside his mouth.  moth heavy to the tongue like wings on wet windows.  we won't help him- not knowing he's cool.

i will be filled by the roadside. each passenger holding me steady- aiming at the next letdown.
fingers right around each other.feet together in dumb attention-

it's like seasons (changing)
only more worthlestheyre just here for the
****



around

chybby
chxbby
chvbby
    >

glowbird knows ∆ he can make it, but
the sun drips warnings in front of
our reticle eyes   ø
           in the dusking smile
           you throw
it                                                   feels

the ugly things that crawled between our teeth
were cool.
while the slang was new, the sky still irradiated us-but[cloud-hurt and uncautioned]we didn’t mind .
while the slang was:
we built things out of graveyard-ingredients in order to survive past our youths
and
insofar as having not yet been annihilated, we look at eachother with nothing left to say that won’t sound out of fashion and
_                  changed





//:it’s a dead mall universe
and the squatters just set off the sprinkler        
  .system

found by an ex roommate of a girlfriend in jewish brooklyn . transplanted from one major american city to the next .
someone else's divorce
slowly replacing someone else's family home.
i move in finally as she moves out in  l a y e r s ,  taking last her cat.

the squeaky floorboards still sound like her.

i vandalize the space between peachfuzz
hairs.
you

render me worthless and.clean

i want you to ask
me if i've done it
lately.i want to be
reminded that achievement is not permanent.
that precedent is not virtue
that i am failing if i m not
hateful of my own creation

you cover your head in dark laurels   pretending not to notice me.
hoarding gems between your fingertips like a dying rosary
unwinding the threads of it with malice
playing
neck twisting to the rhythm of a steady stalactite drip
caustic to the slow breath leaking from the vents. filling the room with dispassion.
masturbatory towards life
looking cool
in
a
pink sweatshirt

you'll get sock-lost (baby))

just as the dogwood blossoms  
pulse against the ground.         y o u
**** the **** of the RØDE microphone
as the quiet sets in.
each pixel is humming for you
as you
sip it out of the ISO 6400 night.

what is digital is done.
and all is remembered.  
for once

we have place

help me baby, akira-kun shot me in the head.
i feel
beautiful.
and poor little midori's out there
bleeding in the car.

:


And all the fads function as the cyclic wheelings, more real than the lowest common denominators.
And that plain way serves only as an anchor to continuity, never as a true path for exclusive modeling.

There is only one truth
And it’s hard to
Remember

And the young
May dance
And sing

While [we] can.
  


This mean world makes
Meanies of us all

Fighting to stay alive .

from dishes and the dry air
as the light upon the world brightens:
so too, the shadows starken

take care of your things .

5 korean girls are the only onesstopped to help as the train pulls away

face like a litterbox.
in a shirt too big
smell of herbal insecticide hits like a ceiling fan collapsing on my
head.
it pushes through the soupy air
and just hangs there-          
.the drunk man gets up
          on his own, and slips his
shoes on

im ok he says to the water around his mouth.imok

.

its dancing around us as everyone rushes to beat eachother to the
bottom of the ramp.

the day is waiting to end

HANK YOU*. the bag folded over on itself dangling from her arms
as she strut the sidewalk,
each ant below her: unaware of the things she's done and been through.
the two little boys she had killed only a few hours earlier-
found something to do with her time.

the space between your eyes is a river of spoiled milk.
we check on it and promptly put it back in the fridge. we find it later, little
changed.
it is summer time in the dystopia.
lovers coddle each other inside the meniscus that grows tight around the dishes in the sink.
the trash doesn't get taken out for
days.

daddy loves you.

our antebellum is
ending.
go and repent to a human being instead

i love you
egregiously.

on the street where this  summer's hippest martyrs rot away
the sidewalks question their sexualities as the sun burns them into
flat .  s l i c e s .   on phonescreens   
//words are my pocketknife in your hand-like a fool trying too hard at someone else's party.
[] as you slide across the polyurethane
holding brand-new hostages at your waist_ trimming them down to swimsuit-season size
                       and style.  
   the air quakes though the [youth like bent corners, ruining photos in ] old magazines .
shivering at the lakeside in full attire
i tank
,having enough of it.


we are seizing_
a
day
    other than this
//

i see the dull ingots upon your brow. they,
meant for melting down into
treasures

have               been
laid to rest in a casual pause
the master never returns.the
line has ended
the people, vanished
and the mountain claims them back

our bullet comes
propelled by the vengeful prayers of
innumerable
multitudes of living creatures contingent in
staying that way at great cost to us.
after all

might is right.

and
you
hold my head in your
arms

without fear     or a capacity to engage in complex love.
all emotions are to you,

like butter
on your

tongue



Evolution favors those that can't understand it

.           , ...........                       .........
                          |                 |                  \
                           \                 /                      \    
                                                                ­      \
             /|      i need to make      |\             \
            / |   myself feel special  | \              \
.--------    |   regardless of the     |  \          ..,.      
               |   impact on others.  |
                |                                    |
                |                                   |
               |                                     |
               |                                   _.|

we skitter mouse-long into clanking radiator breaths,
tongue// wrapt around those teeth
                                    like the wet sweater sleeves heavy at your side.
sinking into  auditorium :  my warm blanket full of eyes,
the floorboards chewing on our soles.(as) i scuff your mute fingers
against my cathedral face  
"home" is quaking like stones w/o oceans,
cereal boxes with no prize inside,
like a sudden impulse to buzz your head
.
we cough up a wish, like a cat's superstition:
proto - prayer :
a mammal recognizing its own thoughts as a distinct
operation,
i correct the errors in your dividing cells like [tearing japanese paper.]
ourreligion is the opposite of problem solving.we disprove
ourselves/in order to   grow.
[and stagnate on faith alone]

i'd rather worship myself for knowing i could

we give thanks : for the grip that tears you away from my
handhold

Petri dish
Dead and cold under the little broken bulb in the silt-covered microscope

The hum of the refrigeration units
Suddenly cuts out
Leaving a deafening silence - even truer than before
The emergency power, now finally depleted
.

chatachakhkhla.ahtth* came the air from the throat you stepped on
and.both of
you.stayed in that place eternally.

nobody knows the neighborhood like  the garbage man
hanging on by half a shoe to the back of the
truck
out there in the world, day to day. part of the universe.
probably says hi to people .
probably averts his eyes .
watches the girls jogging.
he's cooking all day in the sun
his
skin is
grass in the yard.
it's another heatwave out there and the garbage man is part of
the world.
he's probably out there (now)

morning breaks like kissing god with tongue her hairless legs are squirming under the earth the long wait is over our privilege is returned to us we pass it along like virulent youtube
comments

Passion poltergeist

Music chamber.



Wanderer on the Road.

pavement .
it’s spine is
black

like
mine.


stunted trees line the boundaries by the station
they will be cut down the next time someone decides to rearrange the
parking lot
out of
boredom

.

//you've got to stay active.
she says, with eyes deeper than my own bronchitis voice .
shadowy in the way she stirs her cup
stepping over ice cubes with careful tiptoes of her
                                                           w r i s t.


she, there
[like light raking across the sides of pictureframes along the
hallway]
the edge of her jawline drips into my __ mug

steeped into dark


truth is i don't drink much coffee

world swallower.

Scale leaf daughter of deep grandmothers

I see your pride and honor

Do you not see the Earth?

.     humans
describing
      humans

home
     is
     a dark forest
     by the sea
heroism
      has
      been bred out
our hearts
       are
       next :

With triplets
Drinks water from the
Faucet

There are things to care about
Left.

\\






///////
breath is stopped
and teeth, like glaciers_ carving scar-like channels  in the earth
  
know


i “I’m”
and i am saying too much

in answering, i hold us up from getting at the meat of it.

seat of it. sitting there,stinging me.
too afraid to get so    clear

my doki doki is

barking over like the skin of an ancient
creature dying.


and
i remove words from my keyboard's
autocompletion.
i feel decided upon (the worst possible
outcome)
i hold onto arrogance and we





[talk about how to get the real feelings that no one yet has managed to get out of their ******* heads and on to paper or phone screens or whatever.]

it's like understanding understanding
understanding understanding
understanding understanding
understanding understanding
understanding understanding
understanding understanding
understanding understanding
understanding understanding
understanding understanding
understanding understanding

the saltpeter sea may yet swallow these
black-sailed ships

bleak obelisk .
reduce the risk.

and
swim.











[the power of i don’t know :  to the wielder, feels a burden - but serves as everything that keeps us from falling into Hate.]

as the dog grows big enough to steal the kitchen sponge right out of the sink,
as my arms grow thinner,
as the kimchi jar breaks against the inside of the trash
as the a/c sits tilted and dripping from the window onto the front lawn,

<a̶s̶> people are forgotten.
<strike> as <strike> mouths become softer.
<strike> as <strike> patches fill in.
a̶s̶

these baby teeth in little (plastic) baggies
[somewhere in my parents' bedroom]

thedog they never met    ,    teething gently on my fingers and silver ring.
these mornings of getting up.
and days of doing all the daily things,

steak+egg breakfast
front porch clutter
sitting on the rug, looking through rubbermaid bins


          •old t-shirt
          •woolen socks
          •die-cast airplanes


dust in the air and [skin on my palms]
yellow film of last year's pollen over laundry baskets that are no longer mine

cooking in the august irradiation

growing .

i don't want to be
sensitive
anymore- or cool
for that mater. art is better off left to the dying

(hence the beard and the ugly coat)

Looking through a stack of old Nat Geo’s found in an art room cabinet is
probably
one of the most sublime and authentic human experiences .

It,being untouched for so many years.
I, being the fist to cut it up for picture projects .
I remember
The
Transience .

And the dusty ficus
By the window nearest the closet in the further-back, less used part of the
space.

The very aesthetic that I’ve been searching for
Since

She shook like a leaf
And she rolled and she slid.

Now we woke up to the sound of that
Now we cool to go around like that.

Now we laying down peace bricks one-by-one,
Red
Clay of the earth
Well-nourished .

supermarket endcap : ingredients for smores reminds of summervacation and being in thecottage and going to the store late for snacks, and the phone call that comes aboutthe dead friend

our children will **** themselves in the hundreds of thousands
because of (what) you (are)
.and you will think of it only as cleaning up.

**natural selection favors
                         the beasts

the tar -
the tip., slides in as the fingernails grow slowly outwards from the body
sun hits the vinyl siding of the houses across the street
raking sharp light across them like cliff faces in famous photographs
whose colors were only seen by ansel adams himself
chevron patterned blankets are folded over themselves in rosaceous limp hillsides

window . split

And me,the

my legs crumple against your
belly.ending all
the hair on mine_pin each other
to the hairlessness
and dark
of
your sil t
.
as i break stoney voices against
yourlips like archival spaceshuttle  
recordings
each part _in the
answering hiss

my path,
dividing
outside your body


fingers are finding nothing left to
finger .
it's been
treason   in these years

the plexiglass is yellowing up
betraying it's artifice

the cold has left my feet alone.but
my head is layered with fossils of swimming
lessons and
purple shorts


you.glance at your scarred belly-
marring you with wisdom
.i hold my breath
you flash your ****.
we careen off of eachother's cliffs,
holding harmless in
the
moondampened.

//my hollowed out coyote heart .

Both freeze atop the cliffface’s edge to
stay
Hard.