You’re wandering in my tomorrow,
I’m sleeping in your yesterday.
I was always far behind you,
Because you would never stay.

the world sits on the wing of a dove
being swallowed whole by a fiery goddess
descended from heaven on a chariot of ivy
i am incarcerated by shaking flesh and itching cloth
the road before me is giant and knows no bounds
the graveyard is warm and wet with spirits and dew
and red clouds are born from fire in the dawn
there is an intelligent horse being ridden by a snarling insect
and this man has come to claim our souls
our sunset blood burns boils blisters until a million animals wounded
i'm still alive, transfigure me into a creator
choke up my nostrils with the scent of your ***
invade my lungs with the burn of your god
caress my toungue with the infinite promise
enter my brain from above, and regurgitate your anxiety on me
slimy worms devour a psychadelic tomato laughing
into transendency, an eyeless eel has dissappeared into a pocket
i speak from balconies, from terrible heights, from hastened windowsills
in a million desperate quarrelling cities
this is where i **** up illusion, i give up to despondency
i ring the great iron bell that resounds with corruption, with hatred, with hideous *** and admiration,
i scream and cavort on rooftops alone with a black & blue midnight
covered in electric lights and gunpowder tongues
here comes the disintegration of my mind
disgraced by the eye of the earth and spat into
a realm of salivating light
i am swimming through digested heartbreak and melancholy livers
sickened by madness and homemade bombs and ******
the rainclouds carry a truckload of babies' hearts
and it's raining eyes over the city now
the cry of the mind escapes from waving mouths in impotence
as millions of bacteria invade the brain
may these lines be answered by the bird of the sun
by the worm at my ear
by the sight of my skeleton
by the stench of ***** in the air
by the dead gong shivering through midnight
by the bleeding eye of abandoned dreams
by the prophets in proclamation
by the god of all my sorrows

you taste like candy
and i am starving and swallowing your tricks
i dreamt of a greasy hotel and
a box to sleep in.
i am not a cannibal,
i am not a sky diver
& and i am not a pilgrim,
but i hunger for your body
and i'm falling for your holy curves.
i will hang from your window and dance in the sunlight
even though i am not a pink velvet curtain.
i am a garbage-collector poet,
fresh from the allabaster market
who has found the words once lost
in a dark fox hole
near the bend of a lazily flowing river.
all i need is a dime and a glass vase,
a short story and a wet cigarette.
i've come back to town--i climbed right out of that stop sign
standing on a shotgun bullet-holed volkswagon
with a 7 day hangover
holding burning grace in my hands and you say
"lead me to the garbage"
carrying with you a bag of soggy french fries
and i stop to show you a dying tulip,
and we watch as it floats into a cloud.
we'll hide all our money in a glowing furnace
and as i try to write this with a water logged pen
you show me pictures of shirley temple with her head in a noose.
my name is not moses, and i do not want to be remembered.

I walk around from place to place
and I see beauty
and I **** my head
and I think

and I go back home
and I find my mirror
and I touch my face
and I fix my hair
and I fix my stance
and I straighten my skirt

and I think I need new
and I spend my quarters
and I hope new things make me

shiny

and I hope you like shiny.

This is a Deep poem.
The sound of it resonates in your Soul.

You can tell it's deep for a couple of reasons:

random words are Capitalized and they shouldn't be and it's weird.

I use words like cacophony and Endless.

I talk about things like Conformity and Pain and Myself.
Can't figure out why that word is italicized?  I can't either.

I look at the problems of Society and say "I am going to talk about you so hard right now."

The title of it is confusing and you are trying to figure out "Why?  That literally has nothing to do with anything in the poem." And I laugh.  Marvel at the deepness.

Some stanzas are
            weirdly
                                                        shaped
b­ut it's all just part of the
                       poem's
meaning.
In the moment of silence after reading think about this poem and
how RAW
how REAL
how EMOTIONAL
it is.  

Everything necessary for a deep poem is in here.
This is a deep Poem.  Just trust me.

Oh, my dear.
The time we’ve spent together has been the greatest.
I've loved hanging out with you, etc.
But with this new found technology I think we need to talk.
Here’s the deal.  There is just not enough time in the day.
Lost is my number one priority right now, as is Weeds, Parks and Rec, and Breaking Bad.
You try to communicate with me at the worst possible times.
My PS3 controller turned off during 30 Rock and now I have to get all uncomfortable and turn it back on.
Can’t you see I’m busy and that I simply cannot answer my phone?
And your solution… Nay.  Your “solution” of me simply reading the plots on Wikipedia has cut me to the core  and you have crossed the line.
Yes, it would save time.  It would also be the worst thing ever.
It’s clear that we are not compatible.
It’s not you, it’s Netflix.

You clench your shaking hands,
And do not move from the place from which you stand.
And say “I'm fine” “I'm fine” with conviction,
Though I don’t recall anyone has asked.

They say if your not careful,
You become what you despise,
Control the shaking, clench the fist,
But don’t you close your eyes.

And you think that you can stop it,
How you tremble to the bone,
But you don’t really have a choice,
This is something we all know.

So just go ahead and say it,
It's on the tip of your tongue,
It wallows on your painted skin,
It pours from your eyes like a flood.

Go ahead just paint it,
Write it all down,
Scream it, sing it,
Or even whisper it out loud.

Tell us this fight means nothing,
You’re just standing your ground,
But the truth is that you’ve lost,
Something that can’t ever be found.