my home is welcome all my own go foreclose the banks so dance I yell bang pots and pans play christmas music in july forget using coasters eat all the food fry marshmallows with candle lighters set off smoke detector and no one knows no landlord can find no obligation to make the bed vacuum talk in the hallway put earplugs answer the phone can I yes come go as I please never a tagalong never pretend I don't live there I will be too honest and turn off the lights I will never be quiet I will jump on the couch cushions and bounce on the bed blow bubbles in tea and make a huge mess I can have anyone over whenever I like or no one at all I will never be careful. And in my house I don't cry into pillows.

I leave you at the bus stop
half a wake in the wake of you drifting into distance
like this morning but I cannot tell if I am half a dream
when you are away
or half a living
but I definitely feel
like I am one half

The superhero
The only clean and sustainable energy source
To feed the masses
And to run your soul

Of course I will love you just as much, if you help in the
Burning of liquefied dinosaurs for a few years
But I deeply admire your desire to look into the future
Of not only our lives, but the lives of those who will
Come after.

on this slide of a petri dish
sits a speck containing the DNA
for the birth of the cosmos

it drops predetermined as as fall leaves fall
egg cracks
yolk spills out
gooey, opaque                 suspended around a glowing yellow SUN,
                                                                                 a billion suns,
                                            a disk of ever-flattening, expanding life

It stretches. It yawns.
It cries for its mother.

---------------------------------------------------------
Out of it teems throngs of the tiniest colonies
whose kingdoms rise, rage, and fall

the sun burns out.
It takes an infinite eon for the dying stars to reach us and then what?

Planets freeze over, gravitational collapse ensues
we are suctioned silently into a black vacuum

All that's left, the smallest seed buried in a dark grave
waiting to bloom.

Death to Life.
A Resurrection.

I see you reflected in the patterns I live in.
Like the universe reflects on it's own being, I observe you as best I can.
You are the magnetism to my electricity
The chemist to my essayist
The plus to my minus
The yin to my yang
Unlike charges attract
We take and give like
The symmetrical wings of a butterfly work to fly
You are my "otter" half
My universe within a universe
The ever swinging, spinning clock of interlocking grains of sand
in space.
Inner Space! Outer Space!
The atoms within your body, I live on
an electron that revolves around a piece of you, a precious star
needed for the very existence of life.

Feels like a chorus song how surrendered you render my worries
Ebbs away words once written in sand we band and
Adulthood turns less intimidating
Restless I wish to find you near or hear your voice but
Lacking your presence find peace in prayer, asking 'Is God fair?'
Endlessly encouraging me not to despair I'm aware that
Solitude is not quite alone, without being shown if I can trust in the
Spirit which sees more clearly than eyes who is here

I love, therefore whom shall I fear?

Love is patient and it is kind.

It only wants what is it's own
And not what belongs to someone else.

It admires not itself but
What is worthy in others.

It is honest but softens the edges
Of harsher words and harsher truths.

It is selfless, compassionate, and
Forgives before a wrong can be
Perceived or remembered for the very first time.

It protects like a raincoat,
Or a ferocious mother bear, and hopes
Like an SOS signal.

It is as persistent as the exertion
Of gravity and as constant as the
Existence of energy.


If I had the entire world in my hands or let myself burn at the stake for you but had not love...

Then I would be nothing.

Sometimes I wonder...
Will I leave anything on this earth when I die?
Besides candy wrappers and crumpled pieces of notebook paper?

What if I told you that your god is dead?
that supply and demand, economic forces
we trust more than the laws of physics
are not supplemented by a caring, Invisible hand?

That the holy scriptures, thin, green pages
in between the folds of a wallet
are no more valueable than this gum wrapper
blowing in the wind
Unless we all BELIEVE otherwise

Adam Smith said
"Many will enter, but few will win" -cite
What will give you a sense of purpose
or security when you try to sleep at night?

Everyone hope in the American Dream!
a capitalistic kushion to save you in your time of need
made of vapor to catch you when the stocks are falling
its appalling this heaven of prosperity
that depends on consuming more and more of the earth

Listen to The Economist's sermon
Watch how he reads the tea leaves
Will the Fed raise the interest rates this year?
We throw the dice and say our prayers.

All things work together for good
For those who love it.

Welcome to the worship of Mammon.