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Everywhere I look there is garbage,
the streets are littered with it
People are walking around blind,
they can’t see what is right before their faces,
calling to them from the gutters,
pulling at soiled pant legs

And a guy offers kool aid on the corner,
as another yells, “it's sour!”
Yet still the line is around the block,
though there’s nothing special about his drink,
it's not much different in colour or texture, but still they flock,
perhaps out of fear, maybe thirst

Noise is at extreme levels from both
sides of the street, horns blowing, sirens wailing
“Hey, watch where you’re going, idiot”
Babies crying and dogs barking
Screeching tires complain about red lights
only to peel out at the green

I search my pocket, one quarter,
that’s it as far as change, which makes sense
nothing ever changes, ever…
I hold it in my fingers looking up,
heads I stay, tails I leave as I toss it in the air
and it is stolen before it ever hits the ground

I guess I’ll just get in line for the kool aid,
it is free…if you can stomach it

To fall in love
       is passive
To fall out or to fall deeper
       is our  choice
And I chose to follow my heart to
       go with the latter.

JIMMY WIMBLETON listened a first week in June.
Ditches along prairie roads of Northern Illinois
Filled the arch of night with young bullfrog songs.
Infinite mathematical metronomic croaks rose and spoke,
Rose and sang, rose in a choir of puzzles.
They made his head ache with riddles of music.
They rested his head with beaten cadence.
Jimmy Wimbledon listened.

They move like dancers
Fuelled by bloodlust.
Heavy hands weighted
With the hopes of a nation.
An ampitheatre of
Fluorescent lights.
The chariots of the colosseum
Move through the shadows
And the savage beasts
Walk on two feet.

There is a moment between the cusp of darkness, and the rise of the morning sun
Magic
As the colors of a new day creep forth
The fire crackles as the hot embers burn
Emitting enough heat that I am not cold as I sit here
Soon you return to me
The bench shifts under our weight
You don't say anything for a moment
Allowing the silence take us forward into a new day
We watch the sun slowly creeping
Turning to me, the orange-red of the fire catching the whites of your eyes, bathing them with the soft glow.
I catch you smile and I can't help but laugh
A strange thing us sharing this moment
I am sure you think it's strange too
"Quite beautiful", you say with absolute precision
I tell myself not to read into it
Looking at you, it's hard to not see the attraction
Your features are very warm, your eyes scrunch up like mine when you smile
I think you must know that you're handsome
How could you not?
The sky is a brilliant red now
Glowing off the backdrop of darkness.
The fire seems pointless now, since the sky has burst into flames
Maybe it too looks up in awe and wonder
Welcoming the light of a new day

Your hand finds it's way to rest a top mine,
The instant contact startles me
I feel myself blushing
Your eyes are filled with fire now
A deep burning that I couldn't see before
We sit there silently in the moment
As the morning comes alive.

could my restlessness
just be little earthquakes
calling for tremulous gestures
like a flick of a string
attached to
the puppet's lifeless wrist
wherein lies the
constantly turning nebulae
satisfied only by the
empty obsidian space
a spattering of crystal
on midnight whisperings

my bed clings to me
a parting lover
or perhaps a parasitic twin
bound to me by flesh
our surgical silk bond
rope veins lashing us together
tied in perfect boy scout
honor badge knots
sharing my blood that is
now our own

why does the throbbing nothing
seated right between my temples
cry out in agony for
the stillness of a deep sleep
and yet rages against
my fluttering eyelids
hummingbirds on honeysuckle
scattering to dust
at the coming nuclear winter
that ever consuming fission reactor
at precise center
pointing true north
the exact point within me
where each other position is
equal distance

i write to you
somewhere out there
a beautiful part of that world
a string in the tapestry
that no theory could ever define
i write to you so you can know
that i straddle the brick wall
barricading this world
from the ever-present storm of chaos

half of me is woven to you
but half of me is still being pulled
by the unfathomable gravity
of a black hole