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 Nov 2014 Kyle Kulseth
Makiya
ache
 Nov 2014 Kyle Kulseth
Makiya
every sooften, a day will wash over     leaving me
a little paler, a little thin ner

for the most part I crush it like a can and bury it in my chest,
pretend it's a necklace, wear a face to match
I'll take breaths so deep, but my chest won't move
up    or down, some days

I cut it into pieces, dangle it from the ceiling and watch it glint in the  
sunlight, some days

I pull it over my head like a blanket, and keep the dayshine
at bay, leave my limbs pale a little longer

somedays
it's almost a comfort

some days, It's almost as if
I breathe it as it
breathes me and

the wind we create together carries us
in it's length across
the valleys of our        
small universe
Constant Headache - Joyce Manor
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EvIGgN-McsY
 Nov 2014 Kyle Kulseth
Makiya
left the lid off and it molded over
night, let it sit out a little too
long, the taste is a little off-- I hope you got my message.

my aimless fingers, are spinning webs of websof
whatif's
whatnow's
you

probably won't answer.

I have no direction, only
intentions and a bowl full of hope, Ihave
an extra   spoon.

a little past noon, now.

and I find I have trouble
taking you in all at once, there is
a pink-like hue   to all of your newness,
like I'm looking through
rose-colored glasses

like there is always a 'Theme For A Pretty Girl Who Makes You Believe God Exists' playing in the background when you cross the street or
stand, waiting for a friend.

I'm not sure whether it is you I miss, or
the coffee-stained pages of music (at least
I thought it was music)     we made when
we were together.

I often over-romanticize, but
I just thought I'd ask, just thought
I'd see if the breeze I felt was
from an open door or
from the inevitable cracks around the door frame.

I just thought--
I don't know.

oh god.
You three believe in creating scarcity,
NOT union.
You build HOV lanes for your luxury cars,
caring less how efficient they are.
They roll royce cross your game board,
fuming trails of money.
Bell Atlantic bought Madison Avenue,
you bought all the properties.
Now tenants can't avoid
the traffic or the noise
of an internet rolled in palms
and diced
spiraling
to speed limits
...
...
...
...
and red highways
...
...
...
...
and orange traffic cones that
block hybrid cars,
already swerving
to avoid bankruptcy.
We
STOP
the
STOP
people
STOP
moving,
our preamble crumbles to a
STOP,
becoming a eulogy —
an ideal dumb to power trippery,
after Time Warner and Comcast merged,
allies on opposite sides of the game board.

Verizon, Comcast, AT&T;
together you own pretty much
everyone but Fox and Disney,
(yet have invested in them heavily).

Verizon, Comcast, AT&T;
your oligarchy is
NBC, Universal, CNN, Warner Brothers,
and now FullScreen,
family-friendly nepotism
that inbreeds bearing
deaf drones bored of flying,
over
Why Beyonce is a Feminist.
or
Why Ferguson was racist,
media's offspring
just keep clicking,
the headline genocide victims
basking in concentrated lamps
for a sliver of attention.

Verizon, Comcast, AT&T;
Now you want the backend buffering,
bulging eyes and emptying pockets
of those Spocked into believing,
hyperspeed was ever necessary.
No choice when the exits are slow
and there are no backroads.

Verizon, Comcast, AT&T;,
offspring of the
Bell Atlantic Company,
we will not let your
****** populate the internet.
Call it Capitalism,
but your playing Monopoly,
yanking the carpet underneath
to the wood of Tyranny.
You shamed
Bell's invention
by stringing together
telephone
internet,
and
entertainment companies
until you could be lazy.
Monkeys who spent millions
to shriek at government parties
about the communication machine,
a system downloaded so slowly,
we
did
not
act
on
cons
piracy
theories,
when Amazon made online shopping so easy.

Dear Internet Service Providers,
so called ISP's,
WE ARE DONE playing Monopoly.
Our collective voice
will shout blasphemy
on your streets,
hashtagged
net neutrality,
till you're counting pennies.
So empty your Washington banks
cause it's 3 a.m. and
no ONE is winning.
This is it. The FCC's plan to slow down the internet is going to hurt the sites we love like HP. Join the emergency protests around the U.S. and show Obama that we will accept nothing less than a free internet.
https://www.battleforthenet.com/#protest?t=dXNlcmlkPTU1MzE3MTkyLGVtYWlsaWQ9OTI2NA==

Why is net neutrality important, you say?
This recent article offers a brief summary:  http://www.entrepreneur.com/article/239251
 Nov 2014 Kyle Kulseth
one llucy
I heard this all from the grapevine,
curiosity killed the cat…
so… seems unlikely that my dog killed your chickens
just give the poor dog a bone
it's pretty much genetics
all that nature versus nurture
even he makes mistakes…
let's let boys be boys
bygones be bygones
you should always love your neighbor
I know you eat chicken too
we can't be having the *** calling all the kettles black
you know what they say?
If you can't beat 'em,
                                          join 'em.
My dog killed all my neighbors chickens…. not a good way to make new friends.
I can not think
of ten different words
to say.
*still thinking...*
Playing pool at 5am,
see the sun rise and seep
between mouthfuls
of double choc-chip cookies,
Mountain Dew cooling our throats
like antifreeze into a car.
I gather up your laughter for rainy days,
everything dripping in colours
that haven’t been christened.
Your fingerprint wriggles
form an island chain on the piano,
wet symbols, bathroom carpet
where you got out the shower
in a sky-blue towel;
I hid under the bed.
I tell you you’re messing
with an amateur,
kisses are pleasant glitches
but I’d miss and trip
through the open window.
My hands become flappy utensils
when I explain years months days
of apple cores piled up
behind wardrobes,
my portfolio of fiascos.
Faults are found like Easter eggs -
squeezed from toothpaste tubes,
top shelf of the oven.
This is a dark one here,
a miniature pill.
You only bring mugs
of youthful exuberance to the table.
A click. A shlock.
I turn my head,
the game lost
within a blizzard of minutes.
It’s OK I say,
I wanted you to win.
Written: October 2014.
Explanation: A poem written in my own time that I feel does fall into my ongoing city series (at least in my head). This piece is inspired by a recent photograph I saw online, while the title stems from certain situations in games of snooker/pool/billiards, where after a tense battle, one player may only need to *** the 'black to win.' Very happy with this poem, which is unusual to say the least. Feedback welcome.
NOTE: This poem contains one of (if not my number one) favourite word - 'blizzard.'
Downing aspartame,
In attempt to drown the pain...
False hope in a can of spray,
Bleeds through to the next page.

In a world where everything is poisonous,
And everyone wants to **** you,
How can I be joyous?
Is what I see true?

My heart is in a bird's nest,
Within the embrace of a dying tree.
I try, try my best,
In effort to break free.

Shadows dance,
Demons prance
In circles
Leaving me in a trance,
Impaled by a lance,
The destruction of a world.


We did this,
We,
Spread hate faster than we could procreate.
How can I forget this?
More wars than forgiveness,
A place people become more ignorant
I become ever vigilant
There are those who down chemicals
To drown their vengeance
And those who take a weapon
Become a menace...

Bullet holes in my chest
Smoking out my final crest
These words outlast my final breath,
Smile with the release of breath,
I know u did my best...

I loved,

I hated,

But I forgave.

Satisfaction that cloaks my grave.
Even in death,
I live in grace.

**Carpe Diem
It's not hopeless..
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