She checks her wristwatch
Counterclockwise
Against her former expectations
Of the metal
Around her wrist
She checks her digital clock
The one on the stove
That flashes
Flash, flash, flash, flash
Like a silent metronome
When the power goes out
And comes back on
12:31
12:30
12:29
Calm
She is still calm
Breathing
Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale
Steady
Like the bobbing of a buoy, bouncing
Brazenly in open sea
You see
She sees
That time can be trickery
That conceptual thoughts
Provoke mystery
Illusions and delusions
Conclusions and intrusions
Seclusion
She has many things
About which
To think

Oxidization
Volcanic hills are blood red
With memories
Of water
Past
Atmosphere gone
Polar shift, done
Magnetic aesthetic
Still
As pleasing

Lying there
Nose at the bottom
Of the door
Sleeping
I wonder what he smells
The grass
Or the bush that was just trimmed
Or the neighbor's Jack Russell
After all, they are good friends
Dog park stories and
Funny expressions
Times when his tennis ball
Was the only thing in the world
His goal to catch it
Bring it back
He would do that for a week straight
If he could
Maybe he's sad that I had to trim his fur
Because now his tail
Just isn't as fluffy
Being a golden retriever
Is tough

Strolling, the clouds
Are rolling, they abound
And surely they've found
A purely new sound

But towns have found that clouds come down
In rain, to panes
Their windows are loud

With respect, they see
That without them, they'd be
Lost in the toss
Of a barren dirt sea

Minnesota winter
This lake, that lake
The lake around the corner
Frozen, wholly
Catching fish through
Holes in the ice
Frostbite
Layers of snow packed deeper
And deeper
And deeper
Like an unsightly
Ice cream cake
Snowmobiles leaving traces
Of minus 40 races
Breath freezing to faces
And icicle trim laces
Something is serene
Though the air
Kind of smells like
Freezer burn
And hypothermia

I've seen a better part
Of overwhelming emotion
It's strange
An ebb and flow
Of apathy and actually
Living
Feeling an emotion
Feeling a feeling
Feel
When your body
Is alive
And your mind is trying
To let it slide
Behind
I am fine
I am
Life is beautiful

Guaranteed satisfaction
Limited supply
Get it fast - run!
Our sale ends
In 30 seconds
Trample your neighbor
And buy the best one
Bend over
And check it out
Head to the register
And we'll apply the discount
We promise

Precipitation
I felt the raindrops
Hit my lungs
Like a cigar
I wasn't supposed to wholly inhale
But I breathed deeply
As if the earth were a hookah
With endless coals
Lit
As the street lights
Illuminated each drop
I only missed
One or two

There once thrived a hive near the creek
Bees came in and out every week
But one day a bat
In the hands of some *******
Caused the hive to substantially leak

The tapestry in the window
Has fallen on one side
But she continues waving
To the passersby
Gifting them gold from her left hand
And showing her stance
Perched upon a lotus
She's a still-life dance
Algae consuming her kneecaps
As she remains in a trance
Her eyes deeper
Than what could be portrayed
With the dye
As we are all deeper
Than what is portrayed on the
Outside

He has a lot of photons in his pocket
Waiting to be taken out
And thrown about
But every time he reaches in
To grab a handful or two
They slip right through his fingers
Because they're fast
Quite literally the speed of light
Energy driven by momentum
And that's just what he
Needs

Liquids and lipids
North and south
Fatty and lean
Mouth-to-mouth
Resuscitation
Breathe
In and out
I think I need the Heimlich too
Compress my chest
Until I come to

Dressing room, dressing room
Tell me I'm pretty
Allow me to pirouette
In this small space
To show you each plait
On the skirt I just lifted
Over my trousers
Dressing room, dressing room
Your lights are so bright
It brings out every makeup line
But if I squint
They don't seem so defined
Dressing room, dressing room
How close can I get
To your mirrors
Before they stop
Reflecting
And start
Complimenting

You feel expired
Like the milk in the fridge
It's got a lump or two
And the lettuce is fused
To the drawer
The garbage disposal makes a sound
Like it's grinding steel wire
It might be from that art project you did
When you tried to make a figurine
And got too tired
So you set it in the sink
To forget about it
But that's okay
Ramen noodles take a while to go bad
But those Cup 'O' Noodles
Get a bit crusty
After a few months
The dripping from the faucet
Doesn't really matter
Because the only reason for the bathroom
Is to empty your bladder
And sit
With your head in your hands
Before you head back to the bedroom
And wonder
What am I even doing?
Why does thinking hurt?
It's a lot of work
When your favorite color
Is grey

I sit in silence
To sing the sounds of a sitar
It's hard
I can't really do that
That "pew weeeew" sound
I sound more like an alarm
I bet it could definitely wake people up
If I were loud enough
But my voice doesn't carry well
Regardless, why would I want to disturb sleep?
When it's something that people
So desperately need
I guess to be alive
Being bound in this metal cast
I bet I could program my voice to do that
To sound just like a sitar
But it would probably sound slightly
Mechanical
Methodical
And that's not what I'm going for here

It's cold in here
Like a superstore with those giant freezers
How do they even keep those cold
With no doors
I guess lots of cold air circulation
Or little freezer elves
Happily blowing their icy breath
At the frozen bagels and crinkle-cut fries
But the latter is far less likely
I wonder though
What does the machine look like
The one that makes fries crinkle-cut
I think that's why they made that one show
The one that shows how everything is made
People get curious
And need a distraction
Let's see how
Leather boots
And Moon Pies
Are made today
Hand me a beer

When you take a step outside
And you're hit with the force of inspiration
It makes you feel like you fell off a swing
And landed on your back
    but in a good way
Beautiful and exciting
A break in the clouds
Isn't just that - it's a turtle, or a boat, or a dragon, or a dress
You're filled with inspiration
Imagination
And you see
That elm tree growing in front of the building
Becomes alive
He speaks, he thrives
Each leaf giving the air a high-five
Happy to just be
The elm tree across the street

Floating
Laughing
Smoking
Singing
Flying
Drying
And hopping in again
Something sharp touches your skin
It burns
A thousand needles
Of a jellyfish sting
It has a hold of your ankle
And is pulling you downstream
You look down
It's menacing
It's laughing now
And floating
Singing
It's quite demeaning
You fight and fight
But its grip is tight
It pulls you underneath the surface
As the trees around you
Become a world without you
What is that sparkle?
It's golden, silver, bronze
You see domes and towers
Fruitstands and flowers
You quiver
The jellyfish loosens his grip
As you wipe the blood off your lip
Who would have thought
The key to Atlantis
Was in a jellyfish's grasp
Either that or this jellyfish's secretions
Were super hallucinogenic
Either way
This is cool

*wait, how do they even have a swimming pool underwater
and functioning toilets
fish don't even have thumbs
i really don't understand
****

Do you hear that sound?
The wind
Whistling through closed blinds
Drifting into your ears
Burning your eyes
Stimulating your mind
Days behind dance
Driven by unrequited
Painful
And provocative romance
Hollowing your eardrums
And pitting your chest
It's quiet
But so loud
I wish I could understand

Man, I sure do wish I was up in space
Flying and gliding
Slowing and observing
Checking out comets
Maybe having a cup of tea with Mars
Or maybe like, a Diet Coke
Whatever Mars would prefer, I suppose
Except not Diet Rite
Because what kind of life
     anyway
If I were in space
I'd want to dance with Pluto
And chat with Jupiter
I'd ride the tides of spacetime to find
The asteroids of ice - I'd take a knife and grind a slice
Stick it in my drink
I didn't forget
About my tea-party with Mars
"Man, this is stellar!" I'd exclaim, far too often
I'd journey on a boat
Or a spaceship
Or nothing
To the center of the galaxy
And I'd probably think something like,
"I knew this place was pulling me."

When a poet writes
His heart on paper
Or a songwriter sings
Her silent whims
They share the medium
Of space and senses
On which their thoughts
Become reality

It's admiration, inundation
A secular or religious nation
A land of automation
Drowning in inflation
*******
And frustration
On each radio station
We claim dedication
But all we need is
Validation