in square retaliation;
the sunhot riot against
repose!
men draft their perfect
                         manifestos
to platonic jeers & "i know
& yes buts-"
                       seething melt
         ed jaws clenched shut.

more stop, there's more than
quiet anger. there's chatters
natters  less tireless flattering
words; true joy is bred
                  here on tarmac beds...

bell boys & horn heads & maraca
shoe sole songs,     carabiner cords
& their unknown composers jangle
walk the way to fame! let but spoken
time unravel her silent duskful flame

in square retaliation,
riot the moon reclaim.

dear you

it'll probably take this a long long time to reach you but isn't that just the idea? nothing is consistent here - moments bend & weave so it feels like each blink takes a lifetime. yesterday a thought took four months to form and i almost used it without thinking.

i'm stretched out on the grass now & i'd love to explain how anyone meets anyone at all. is love some long blue thread bringing them together? i've seen what people do with it - sure they make it into something pretty but it isn't what it's there for. are we wrong to see the long beams of light and only take a photo? is a lick of heat for more than making a cup of tea?

i tried to explain a concept like us to a bumblebee but i didn't really get anywhere. i said "wouldn't you like something like a portal? you could be at the next flower before you know it." i said portal instead of a wormhole because i knew bees didn't understand physics but he buzzed off anyway. i suppose the fun might be in the looking & finding but i've been given flowers before & it sure as hell meant more than picking one myself. maybe he was just happy with what he'd already found.

now i see magpies everywhere but they can't all be you right? i've always thought they were but maybe i'm just too ******* in my long blue thread. i suppose that's human though - i've just always valued the idea of tying something tangible to a concept that isn't really bound by atoms. the idea that this is all meant to be you know?

if you look hard enough you'll see them everywhere. they stick with you like the bluegreen shadow of the sun. sometimes all it takes is one & the thought that everything has to mean something. that's it though - i guess if it were real then you'd be here by now. maybe if you wait long enough you'll miss your chance. maybe if i look long enough a magpie is just a magpie.

p.s.

on the walk here i crossed a bridge - it wasn't celestial or anything but it was high enough off the ground to wonder if i stepped off how much of a joke i could get out my mouth before i hit the clouds. i couldn't really shake that feeling of bending & weaving after that. funny isn't it.

write soon

sink up & drink your thanks

amberred holymen
               try to jump
right on                         down
your                 throat



e­very one
      gets given a

         vry ownhomegrown
extinction coefficient

& for that we drink e
                   very
****** ounce we can.

full-hooded but
not               half
a gleam
        
         an "i know
                   &
                 you
                  don't"

isn't it mysery?
the knowing &
the knowing &
not even doing.

i know.. i should
  formulate
    something.
      really...    like

a song. but not
even the air
can formulate
something
quite so
romantic
enough,

try       write
nonsense like a
kiss.        take
each flavour
of each word
& press it
hard
       against
      ur cheek.

sap.up the warm
meaning like a
thirsty flower you

blossom even
            if you want

i nor the midjune
would ever dare
to      comment.

some free limb
loose lip
              prayer

      the figure8

(or headspin
i.suppose)

kicks up
           recycled
se(nt)(d)iments

& its such
     such a thing

to write & write

& pray you
               extract
  the heartgame

the endfelt true

everythings.
everything4you