The boy who hangs his story from the bridge.
As if by fairy tale told minutely to a desperate lover.
Her tormented eyes
picturing this broken neck;
his story told in the lingering art of death.  Or

he who faces the train to Ferny Hills
and each commuter who remembers
that day’s monotony as bits of him
slapped against a carriage like
someone throwing wet fish.  Or

the pass-over traffic
grumbling at the fall of tragic demonstration - a
boy not welcomed anywhere except by the earth
that took him in with a kiss of bitumen.  Or

balanced on needle point, a
thousand thousand weights pressing death
into an arm embracing the TV-cable guide and
a torn photograph of Jennifer the mud wrestler.
And all this waste
sending little statistic waves of shock that don't anymore.

Gone to sleep like the boys who left us.
Early sleep. Early rise and forget the
sons who disappear in a magician’s finale.
The cloak of social history that accepts this.
The magic
abracadabra of disturbed unhappy youth.

She’s brewing like rich wine
the older she gets
her each added faceline
my eyes satiates.

She’s huing like violets
purpling is her soul
tho older she gets
she's never too ole.

She’s frothing like nectar
honeying in core
feels endless this affair

I’m loving her more.

tender tendrils of
affection find their
way back to
wrap around my
fingers, some
remnant of last
december when we were
knocking teeth and
locking limbs.

notion clocking in:
if i hold this feeling
up to the light,
will i see it as
counterfeit or
genuine?

how precarious,
i pop bubbles
without knowing
whether more will
blow downwind to
my anxious hands
reaching up to
make them mine and
losing them in
palm-touch time.

Ever since I heard of you
You slowly started to fade
But I was tortured by you
You made me feel evil

Bad thought- bad person
That's what you taught me
Question existence
Straight to Hell
That’s what you taught me

My mind exploded
And you were removed
Nothing to fear
Externally, at least

No more mind control
Free as I will be
Trapped in the walls of
My own mind

At least you kept me grounded

she stood in a hallway
arguing with me
she said yes i said no
she asked me if she
should stay
i told her to go
her soft palms were shaking
i didn't dare to break
but still
if she'd let a tear
it woud be all that it takes.
i didn't tell her my feelings
because she would have strayed
i knew this wasn't place for her
and i couldn't stay in her way.
it was a monday,it was cloudy
i tried to look away
it's so hard to remember
(it was middle of a may)
i wanted her to think of me
i couldn't dare to say...
i tried to look aside
but i still remember the dress
she wore that day.

I have **** psychic brainwaves
You have hot sauce in your bones
So let's wreck the competition
In my **** psychic home

I ate a conquistador
I ate a holiday
I ate an afterthought
I ate a bagel
Gosh, what a breakfast it's been