Ah! An idea! Bouncing neurons bump
frontal lob to ear canal, rushing down
veins, pulsing through arm muscles and finger
bones until the tingle erupts for a pen.

Arms scramble, books over desks
shoved onto their sides, French homework flies around
Mozart concertos swirling up towards
ceiling fans and floating down, down, down ,down
until landing gently on, of course, a pen.

A pen- the holy instrument that will
transfer innermost thoughts and emotions
into beautiful prose and poetry.

Held by fingers, the pen is power- but
wait, the pen has no ink. (Gosh-darnit-all)

We talked
he and i about
all the reasons why you and i can't
talk anymore

we talked for a long time

I don't remember the last time we,
you and i, really
talked about things that weren't
relevant or recent

it's been a long time

We've been talking with our lips but
hardly ever in the way that
accomplishes things
or reveals things i didn't already know
about you or the things that matter to you

this silence is kind of deafening and my lips are feeling lost
i tried to talk the other day to you about me and us and our things
but i couldn't find the words
and so
the talking didn't last
and the space between my words got very large and heavy
and the tears between my eyelids got very large and heavy
and maybe even slipped out
once or twice

But we talked
he and i about
all the reasons why you and i can't
talk anymore

And I had lot's to say

Soulless,
We quenched our dreams with thirst;

bought the heavens,
Waving a country of radio love

As fee,

United under one Internet
Two Chocolate paper ******* announcements
And $6 New York Halal meat.

The mortal man always drinks his sea--
So ask your doctor about Nixon
And lift the verbs off your skirt
For Nemo
who replaced Icarus
And now twerks at synods
With ******* oven oil glued
To his left fin;

The same one God used to bet Satan over the soul of man.

speculation pulls down on the body
the quick switch into panic, akin to the comedic drop of an anvil
when you realise that things aren't as simple as they seemed
it's amazing that you could even be shocked

but when has anything ever been simple?
what else is life to you but a riddle?
the questions which rush through your brain
sweeping you off your feet and onto the gravel

curiosity lunges at you, hungry and ready to feed
to claim another life, to rip each "what if?" out from your curled fists
you should have already known the murders it is capable of
but you would never take the proverb literally, would you

"things are the way they are, because they are"
do not lie back in the mud and be defeated
pull the mystery apart, unravel the string with your mighty claws
seize the day and avenge the cat