three cycles tick by; a sine wave drawn
to ebb the seas and flow night to morn
such airy business; etched in deep
rocks hollowed out for humble rooms
for stoicism borne in mother's womb
elects to dream in undue sleep

sardonic skies mock me hence
while hurricanes teach ambivalence
for they fly free, regardless of
windfalls prior and waves untamed;
taking homes and with them, names
of those sure to be stripped of cloth

the me of now would not stand
for punch-drunk persecution; reprimand
that sardonic sky: how dare you jeer!
with no heart in there but nimbus clouds
does apathy make your sad gods proud?
does envy fill their cups with cheer?

send me to the jackanapes!
let them tend their wounds; take shape
a splint - bind pity to the dogged folks
pray their heaven ne'er comes undone
for coal-donned crows balk rain over sun:
choose to ember in ash over smoke

a dichotomy; daylight intersects
the home of gardeners, farmers and folk
where husks grow fruit
and pastures, weaved,
bury stock, on whom they choked
despite this thriving nature
this fertile wonderland
one small green soldier inches on;
a man to reprimand
one's sunny disposition?
this home is grey, and cold
soil to some is a web to others:
avocado seeds can't grow

walk me through your cotton world
where queer hills only seem to rise
to hug me in their rolling crooks
and wrap us in a cotton scarf

show me time that shirks its work
how slow the clocks don't ever tick
sell me land, and oil, and bridges:
a home to furnish innocence

for even wind cannot erode;
carve our shoulder's jagged chips'
to supple curves that bind so well
but tether me to cotton bricks

let the water take a crack!
to drown with you must feel like swimming
so share in my hypoxic dream;
do you see the air around us glisten?

i feel like we could grow here
sewn throughout fair yellow thorns
yet verity prays for weeds to bleed
and stain the beds of cotton soil

expand below me! deep! deeper!
beneath where i could hope to see
but where i know i'll feel your teeth
ripping cotton veins away

for even wind cannot erode:
so how do atoms stand to fare
against the vacuum where i choke
a lullaby to quell the blame

if i were to die on each evening tick
i'd save the air i would expend
to fill your room with bubbles; ideas
naked under liminal clothes

with you, i live between each heavy second
between each slow degree we turn
we could hold our weight with just a gaze
the weight of withheld gasps for words

if one more drop of blood would spill
would it still taste of iron? or sweet
as honey does so fervently of sugar

spill a bath and compose a tune, then
of the gentle pops of bubble prayers;
and sing me one final blessed eulogy

drown me deep in fever dreams,
float an arrow between my pretty eyes
and **** me, beautifully