sometimes i wonder
when the last time you wondered
what has come before you
and what may arrive after you leave -
sometimes i wonder
how much impact i could have
on what we believe -
and sometimes, i look back
and wonder, what i was thinking

There is something to be said,
for speaking your mind, she whispered -*

      There's a home
outside of this home -
inside of this home is a fire
inside of this home is a fountain
This pedestal, is perched, a crow
gawking at me, as I inhale smoke
from charcoal, as my breathing accelerates endlessly -
I can feel the oxygen hitting my lungs
like the sun hits my eyelashes on the first
day of Spring, where blue jays
and wet lawns, and a later setting sunset reach into
my stomach and fill it with flowers
and girls and sand and salt and bikinis -
I just wanted to take the time to say - I
I feel nostalgia in the form of an atomic holocaust -
it happened, and it will happen over
and over and over. Until we can take the time
to say, what we really feel inside.

everybody i know
dresses up like monsters
and ghosts
every day i
have ever known
and today is as cold as it
was once those windows
cracked open with a
wind of razorblades and let
you into my life like
a feral raccoon eating
at me like a heaping trash can

i am a hot mess, she said
with a white hot smile
piercing a migraine deep into my face
i didn't know what to say
i'm charming, i
burn liquids at a rate that would make
American forefathers sick
i'm careful, i
hit speeds in my head that could break
this atmosphere like a warm shell
in a cold barn, i
am aware
of the spoiled foot i discard
without shame - i
am not alone is this, she said

my time has come to rise from
bloodstained ashes under an October moon,
the night breeze cooling off our coffee -
You held the railing
Staring into the darkness
I wish, I called sooner I said
with a half-smile I knew that was obvious
Lessers versions of me knew that was true -
like fractals in a broken mirror
like the white hot center of your cigarette
like the soft flesh exposed
I wish I called sooner.

that's not a color, she said.
hard plastic - a ruler against, my wrist i knew it when
i insisted - it was
something i swear -
there's a sting in the eyes every Monday
that makes me want to puke - i see
wide eyed and cushy cats tidy in white and blue
suits and ties, while guys in tie dye streak, down inside i
know the demand for be some in between -
me and my shrink it's something dark
he offered me a pill to make it stop
i don't know if it's my brain or my heart
i just want to make it stop -
i just want to make it stop -
i just want to make it stop -
i just want to make it stop -
i don't find myself a teacher
or a reader of the news, i don't
see - myself terrified by what is to come, no -
i don't see myself collapsing into ruins -
     i will catch the comet
and be immune to a sickness
i will run from the ashes
and rinse in the toxins
i will be a rock when i window is closed
i will be your fist when false flags have arose
i will be the neon, in the cold alleyway
and i will be the last sip of liquor
before they find us
and take you away

Have you
ever drank warm whiskey by a cold sunset?
Do you ever eat apples to the pits?
Does the moving moss see a meal in a man?
I sat on top of campfires
flogged by flames
waiting to be forgiven -
I kissed frogs and mushrooms
while listening to the fractured pink noise
of horrible screams -
A horrible scream, it
wears white in black lace, it
wears down a man's pride that way
- I'm wasting, away
I'm wasting -
My time with you, she said about
with ***, in her eyes, it
was just exercise
and her and I
won't work out -