God killed Summer.
But caught her mid-Fall,
And laid her in a goldenrod dress.
We held our breath-and wept
To see her more lovely in sleep:
Green eyes closed brown,
God cried hardest-
Saturated her bedside in rain.
We drank deep draughts of her vibrant complexion
Brandishing onto our gaze
Her rosy palms and frosting fingers.
God blanketed Summer.
With a sheet of fine lace,
And lowered her into the earth.
We trudged home in the snow.
Her warmth had left us cold,
But we carried God's promise burning our ears:
"Whatever entity I take,
With tenfold will I bring.
Our Summer's hardy, just you wait-
And from her grave she'll Spring!"
Kiss me, soft, as I am… passing.
kiss me while my lips are burning, while I yet believe in romance
with soft blush face,
Lift me like a child on stilts, elevated above the feeble dreams of adults
with tendons taught,
playing my hair like seaweed
bless me with your consciousness,
with your most pensive furrowed brows
with your aspirations
bless me with your future.
Feed me at my bedside—but not just tepid broth.
Feed me the window view
when my eyes forget to flash,
Feed me the sky
from the IV,
the smell of chlorine
So that it may be you and the moon
that sing my last lullaby.
Don’t just take a walk in my shoes. Become my feet.
I miss you all humdrum floppy eyed
like crinkle face spit flying mad people
I Miss You Cause You Are Crazy 2
you are petroleum seeping through my brain waves
and when i light the fuse
You'll just about blow the place sky High.
You stepped inside a pinhole
and found yourself in water
you and your floatings, prayers, gloatings
dripped listlessly through
others’ problems, funerals, bad jokes-
every persons puddle music
in a torrent of watery grievance
Welcome to [Big City, Foreigner Country]—Traveler.
This ocean smells awfully polluted
and not just the grey in the air
but the blood in the streets from the
and the way that the people stare.
but tread lightly, and don’t drown,
you fishes from other lands,
your gills open-- and you will find that you
swim as the culture demands.
bless you, watery wanderers,
with your blessings and cursings
for this ocean of raging attitudes
is made human by all of your fears.
Move over incompetence-
That’s my seat.
We’ll have tea. The herbal variety.
And talk about my listless absence
over rosehips and peppermint.
It has been a long road trip
on awkward interstates,
since I have eaten poetry.
It tastes tangy on my tongue-
tahini and tap water,
like salad dressing gone south.
I went south, since last we spoke.
I cry still for the colors,
the blues and greens that burned my eyes
and transfigured my palette.
The mountains spoke foreign languages
but blessed me with new ears to hear,
but I did not record their tales.
I sit now trying to catch a shimmer of their dialect
but I am full of empty English.
I repent now,
of my caustic neglect,
to the nymphs of creative order—
and humbly bow myself to the sword of
[allow] me to lick the Newness:
off your face,
away from the yapping white noise in the distance,
out of the infant smile you shed.
Lets dance the color of welded [souls]
all you who fracture under [the heavy mass
of] my emerging grin, cast the [humanity]
from your leaden chins
lets [radiate beyond our stiff] elderly shells-
stretch to the most intricate composition
of every genre of pebble [person]
Don’t stop there!
[pass] pockets of serendipity to the greyest nimbus,
the slightest twitch of grass,
the [breath] of soil.
why must we comfort Zones?
I will ****** your plush practiced demeanor
to [nurse] your pallid glimmers
of certified [You].