Later tonight the back of my head will droop
careful as honey
leans over the
edge of silver
to sooth the
shame of
burnt toast
to reach a pillow of cool flexing whispers
green with the envy of roots instead of wings
always waving to the heavens a sweet hello



Later tonight I will find a rhythm-andante-
and my sole will kiss the underside of stones
changes in the
pitch will be
illuminated, chords will
resonate around the
cracks eroded in
the sidewalk  
for blocks
and maybe the time can lead to another
set of paths deeply leaning into the curves my
lips make while whistling



Perhaps I will build a house cradled in
cherry blossoms heavy with perfume
inside- a couch
for thinking, neighboring
blank paper eager
to be reunited
as always
with ideas
throaty breath heats the cheeks of petals and all
the knots tangled with my laces will be reread
and I will begin to understand, Later tonight

thinking thinking
so much faster than
believing believing
what is it I think I believe
whatever it is
would probably taste great in large doses
become an addict, selfishly seeking
self enlightenment
is that such a bad thing
define "bad thing"
a little too afraid of finding
really finding
the inner
me inner
us hey
lets keep it focused more on you
on you
on us all
because that is my goal that is my heart that is my
volcano
it is so much more appealing
than serving reality to my own
cluttered table
ready ready
to explore explode explore explode
and I think you might understand
you as in
me
trying to focus on who I am
so tired of feeling weak fearing I will
never know
Here I am: alone
that is how it is
promise it's not a "bad thing"
I don't feel upset, sad, lonely
alone is alive and well and okay
alone in the sense that a river does not
have help while it rushes
that is on its
own
so I must find why I write letters to no one
must I find why I write letters to no one?
purpose purpose
purpose
I think thinking is
swell
swelling in my life supposed to be anyway but swelling is
usually bad yeah? but maybe it is okay
to make my head bigger
than my heart

why
why
why
why

asking why constantly is the only way to earn a shovel
earn it
everything comes so easily and without effort
these days there is always selling
these days
.........
moving on
would you answer yes in a survey asking
do you try?
digging within digging within others
in
side
these
rooms
[waterfalling]
through the curtain
im asking

why

im asking you to
peer harder there is always a crack somewhere and you and I and we
can find it and pull it away and then
do
what
ever
you
want
~~~~~ h          ~~~
       ~a~~
                          ~~  r          ~~~~
~~~~~~~         m
          ~~~~~~          o
               ~~~~                n
                                           ­ ~~~      y    ~~~
harmony is
what
ever
you
want
perhaps more than just swelling though
understanding
this life
understanding
the purpose
purposefully locking the door
the door to your house so you can unlock the door to
[your house]
and walk into rooms
completely empty
learning that empty is good learning that
less is more
haven't seen that yet
I want to hold as much as I can grab that is
success yes?
as much as I can grab
look how much I am
burdened and see how much I
like it
no not the empty rooms
never set foot in those places
way too much
distraction
in the window
I love being part of the view
the view of
waking up in the morning and
not listening to the
the map
that was made for
all of us
rip it up
can you
will you
won't you?
can I
will I
won't I?
hoping hoping
to dream while
walking not
sleep walking not at all but yes
I can
decide to live
instead of survive
what am I doing in each day
is each day doing what it can
for me
lacking lacking lacking
in my
potential
because I so admire the brushstrokes and layers
that I see everyday but everyday I pretend
it is something I haven't seen before
I am programmed to want all those paintings as my own to hang in my
cluttered house yet is success my own program
something I want
I want....something
give me an empty room and i'll think more
on that
do you think you know
what you want
will you ever take the time to ask
why

falling over the stepping
stones I found my
way back to the purple
drapes however it was
colder than the last visit
the golden glimmer was
very gray maybe it was
the slice of harsh chemicals
that split my senses and made
my eyes water so I reached
for the tissues but knocked
over a sea of child proof caps
that cascaded to the
floor then there was
all sorts of ruined surprises
that I unwrapped too early
because I sometimes like to
get dressed up and pull the ribbon
away from boxes that say they
are for someone else so I shouldn't
try similar to the way I like the word off
limits and wrong similar to the way your doctor would
talk to your therapist after they saw your hair was
wet after surfing your secrets and I
imagined this all while running my whole hand
over the wooden vase that was half
carved and half ancient bark that kept together the
plastic sunflowers which the store promised
would never die and guests would be convinced they were freshly picked
but by a collection of side way glances I finally noticed my favorite spritz of
yellow did not begin and end with the texture of truth so I think I
would rather appreciate the vase and the yellow orange red pink
shapes on the center of my tongue so the shimmer of a clean
stentch can tickle my throat and later beg me to fall
so I can touch my face to the floor allowing the marble to ice my burning cheek
and I will join the child proof party confetti already
waiting and the gray overcast can make it
all alright

I once dreamt of a
stoic bath tub
that overflowed with
marvelous singing waves
turning again and again
over the marble while
the lion paws stretched
their talons just like
a mighty winged beast
would stretch its claws
and both were washing
their feet in the over
pour of soapy water
and many always questioned
whether or not they looked different
in the light that
poked through the
deep purple drapes
that hid the room
from the world which
was always trying to
sneak a peak at the
golden frames of the
glass pool which reflected
the silver trimmings of
a great bath tub that
I once smiled about
in a nightmare