next to you
my words are small
they clamber for the warm

they seem outweighed
by truths you house
yet long to know your form

they tell me low
'suggest the touch'
but fear to risk the torn

their meaning slack
your ecliptic
tide so shapes my morn


i wait the days

i wait the days


i long to see
and read that face
that subscript giving clues

not wrong to hope
nor out of place
to wonder-wait my cue

i smile the day
remembrance laced
so think what might i do

to find myself
new sea moon night
          again
                   right
                               next to you

You're gonna pop, into heaven
With your head caved in.
You're gonna feel the silt hard
Before you do it, again.

You're gonna rhyme around
And run around, foot-stick gait.
You gonna listen to the choir
With a lake red stain.


       how the many
       dated late
       step in time
       play it straight

       give a wrong
       lead a right
       dig a bed
       lay the light

You're the ghostly kissing
You're the ghostly kissing


Greedle humpty ditty
With a song left low.
Needle something pretty
With a new plunge know.

Hit me in the neck
With a slide-kiss blow.
Need me in the morning
In the soft-wind-go.


       how the many
       dated late
       step in time
       play it straight

       give a wrong
       lead it right
       dig a bed
       lay the light


You're the Ghostly kissing
You're the 'times ten'

I'm just the blink
In a left eye spin

I'm just the blink
In a left eye spin

etymolo gicilato
pervy and scribe
justa lovidactil
otta wormsandside

ima scribble bluey
evological snide
scriptiburgis outcast
meatiyum pride

urdadidafactus sum
party thatribe

looping over cants
and the meaningless tide

looping over cants
and the meaningless tide

What comes of compulsion?
The turn-sound of breakthrough.
I yearn for such things without ought.

A misstep for healthy,
But a need so fulfilled that
I bask in the warmth of these knots.

Thus, collar me snugly.
I'm yours through our ending.
First unsure, in this trap, what you'd caught.

Acknowledge this weight, please.
The 'anythings' fill me.
Entangled in rapturous locks.

And which way shall I
Bend the world?
Towards me and others' fear?

To use them plain,
Or craft their strain?
To hurt those closest dear?

Those things so able,
With length of cable,
Could I, while drawing tears?

I could, so simply,
So dare not tempt me,
To shorten life, by years.


Thus standing straight,
I hesitate.
Such ease would cast poor form.

So, instead, I lean,
As those I've seen,

                                            To light
                                                                   To lift
                                                                                           To warm.