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 Apr 2013 Kyle Kulseth
Sal Lake
I am in a canyon
It’s grand & I am
What I am
Guilty by
Disassociation:
I can’t tell the
Leaves in the
Trees from the
Faces in the
Concrete

My mind is a
House of mirrors
My faith is a
House of cards
& god the
Dyslexic mixologist

I am arresting my
Happiness for
Enduring life just to
Spite me
Little do I know:

Only I want to hide myself

Mush brained
In the backseat
Fisheye vision
& car crash dreams
Little boxes fly by
Little boxes all the same

Q:
When do I get a
Little box &
Carport &
White fence &
Rolling pin &
Next to kin &
Worship pavement like
Them?

A:
I am already anchored to asphalt so
I’d rather sit here
Watching my thoughts
Trickle through
The membrane &
Stain my perceived
Self-worth
 Apr 2013 Kyle Kulseth
Evynne
Yeah there's an undertow, but it ain't got me



It's kinda like
When you get really, really mad
I mean you're mad
And then something happens
Like a song or a certain cast of light
And you realize the reason you were mad is nothing like the reason red blood cells carry oxygen to your brain
Or the reason you love pineapple
It's nothing like the roots of the tree outside your window
And you feel pretty stupid
You scold yourself
"Stupid, silly human being"
Then you forget what you had just learned when you looked at that tree or took a deep breath
You're thinking about other things
You're thinking about what you're going to do with the time you've got before bed
Or what that rude girl at school said to you

And then it's kinda like
When you get really, really sad
I mean you're sad
And then you receive a much needed compliment from someone
And you think about how **** well you've actually got it
It's so unlike that sadness
It's just like those red blood cells and that tree outside your window
And here you are feeling silly and ignorant once more
You're thinking about all that time you wasted
But there are loved ones in your living room and a blanket on your bed
It's okay, right?



And then
Then it's kinda like blasting music in the car
It's kinda like being made to laugh during a miserable school day
It's like your favorite road to drive
Or your favorite pen to write with
It's like the rattling in your speakers
Or your brown eyes
It's like opening bottles with your teeth
Having plans for the night
Getting away with things you shouldn't have done in the first place
It's kinda like listening to your music too loud
Or brushing your teeth
It's like accidentally falling asleep
I don't know
It's kinda like that
I think
Yeah
When I die,
Leave your sorrows at home,
Wear your scarlet dress,
Meet me at the place where we met.
Not for the first time,
But where we really met.
Where I fell in love with you.
Hold your red rose in hand.
Summon me unto the promise land.

When you feel alone,
Just put on your scarlet dress.
And know that I am there,
Staring at you with yearning in my eyes,
As I did in my time with you.

Eventually,
Let the red morph to your skin,
And know its my fingers
Flowing throw your hair,
That most would mistake for the wind.

Let the scarlet bleed into your heart,
Not from it.
So that I may inhabit the only place,
That I could have described as heaven.

Promise me that you'll wear your scarlet,
When summer ends,
So that when fall arrives,
The scarlet will come alive in the trees,
And I can be with you,
As long as you take the time,
To admire the beauty of the changing leaves,
As I had many autumns ago.
"It is said that if a woman wears a scarlet dress to a cemetery, it can attract the spirit of a lover that has passed." This is unfinished.
There's a Russian school boy with acid in his veins
tripping when he bleeds.
There's a gypsy girl with the wanderlust disease
traveling on dreams.
Yin and Yang meet.
Strangers spilling secrets while the world speeds by,
everything dark and sinister comes out at night.
Different people when the moon shines.
Grey hound blues singing
sometimes people are destined to meet
for stranger reasons than can be seen,
things collide and transform everything.
Grey hound blues sets the stage for new beginnings.
 Apr 2013 Kyle Kulseth
Olympia
A ghosted idea tugs at my stomach
A drifting ship in a closing fog
A half remembered dream from a restless morning
That rests precariously on the tip of my tongue
And drips
At glacial intervals
Down to the knotted cords at my center
That held the boats at port
Once
The lights are brighter than usual tonight.
They demand attention with their glowing, yellow faces.
It only makes the cackling women in the corner of the cafe ignore them more.
There is an unspoken consensus that these lights are to be avoided.
I make the mistake of looking one of them in the eye,
only to be blinded with a flood of yellow.

O, what remnants our paths leave so silently on our bones.
We never can quite brush them away to gather in dust.
How I wish I could be the dirt under your fingernails.
How I wish I could be the stubborn lint upon your dress.
O, how I dream of never pausing.

How I wish to be the bitter taste of slumber on your tongue.
These thoughts are interrupted by the blinding light above.
Pull me from the water only to **** in a lung-full of air.
I want to drown in your eyes.

What a worthy way to go, I say,
what a worthy way to pause.
Envisioned - tight eyes
fixated on the delicacies of
perfumed skin,
vile in sinister auras
that cannot be smothered.

You will blame your victims
and put your theives on
Pedestals made of
Diamond-shaped tears.

Cover your mouths,
your thick, bitten lips
Red and raw.
See yourself reflected
in the whites of her eyes,
Blue lips snarling,
tasting sweet misery.

Strip innocence from
Flesh and Bone,
you filthy Pig!
 Mar 2013 Kyle Kulseth
Olympia
I watch for you
And keep an eye on
The horizon
I cannot help but
See the sunrise
And it's orange edge light
Hugs my curves like
You would
Warms and burns like
You would
Smoldering then steadying like a match
Igniting memories of
Sleepy passenger seats
In an old black jeep that
Tasted of fish and old stories that
You told me
Of the late night in between in
A skinny dorm bed and the
Delirium of love and fatigue
Folding our eyes closed and our hands together beneath the pillows
And collecting on us like a heavy snow
The scent of old tobacco, skin, gatorade,
And dryer sheet that
Rests on you like
My sleepy hand
Rising and falling with your breathing
And then my florida dawn
After new world night and
A heart full to bursting
Watching big fish gather around lighted docks
And talking of things in
Beach towels on a bridge
Leaning
Looking over
The edge
I watch for you
With my eye on the horizon
And I know you in the
Break of day
I carry your gold dawn and it
Tempers the steel beneath
I watch for you
My love
Until you're home

It's 7:14 am
And I love you
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