I am ready to write pensive, tired prose
I am ready to wilt like a petal, dying rose
My laptop is dying as I watch the horizon
My body is lying as my breath is sighing
A million moments all wrapped up for me
The wine in my glass has drunk me to sleep

i hope you enjoy my twisted performance
it is all for you
i broke my legs for you
my spine aches for you
i am a machine for you

I think I saw all of you in a *******
It was raining and I was crying
We were at a waterpark
People screamed when they went down the slides and sighed at the end
A baby was calling out for its mother
Drops splashed down onto the sweet pavement

you are the most delectable twizzler
and i do not even like twizzlers
your sweet cherry twists and your saccarine kiss
grandest of loves my heart is in bliss

My dog is sitting in the corner of my room
I’m not sure what he wants or what I do either

At the intersection of a vague bravado and worried unformedness, I turn on the radio to hear sparkles of joy and humour, and a useful skepticism. On the road ahead of me, I see a sign labelled “Determination begins here.” I take the exit.

What am I to do without a harshly scrutinizing figurine on my shelf? Accept something that accepts me? And only loving critiques and informs me instead of violently projecting vitriolic love/hate attacks towards me? Oh no! I have lost everything.

But I have found, and am finding various other things. And on that exit, is more signs. And more sentences that begin with connectives. And so on.

Exploded: Two green lines out of the dog and human’s body
In it they thought of the forced expansion of meaning
Unconsensual development
Let it explode radically out of a chamber of infiltration and distrust
Simple green lines explode towards the wall out of the dog and human’s body

Language pulled sweetly toward the entrancing vortex of love
Love spread across the toast of the Earth
Billions of ants gather in circles while we watch from above
Whispering secrets in a spirit of mirth

you are a safe place for me
your arms are a cavern for me to hide in
your hands are ivy wrapped around me
i sleep in your ribs

i walked for 7 years in the forest of regretful deers

they spoke to me so quietly their deepest fears

i pet them gently and spores crumbled off their backs

their greatest fears come seeping through the cracks

we're immature nature
we all helped each other make ourselves
please be gentle with me because i'm nature
we have to preserve ourselves

raindrops fall in winter
smoke greys out the sky
an old bear curls up
he's laying down to die
but he hibernates for winter
gathering all his strength
she'll brave this darkened time
and go on in life at length

a starving kiss from the sun
the rain drops ruin all the fun
bundled up inside my head
hide inside your mouth instead

a weak and frail famished star
the world is grey you are too far
coming back into the sky
all you have to do is try

i've lost myself in another one's soul
i'm a carrot trapped in another soup’s bowl
now i must plan my literary escape
the forward momentum of an enlightened ape
uncover the furniture and pull back the drape
i live for myself not under one’s cape

may our work be fruitful and that of our own
with only your own eyes will light be shown
wander the desert with seeds to be sewn
but meet other travellers or ring them by phone
but never be lost in another one’s tone
or tomb

i think my mounted head would look nice next to yours
and we live in a mansion with one million doors
and there's a whole world deep beneath the floors
and i engineered the forest so i could take you on a tour

i built some tall trees and ill teach you and youll learn
theres something in this world called a picadilly fern
its my chance to fall in love this is my turn

i've always loved when the heater or air conditioning comes on
i don't care if it makes me hot or cold
the sound is loud i am not young or old

i love what's inside of you and
waves hitting the shore makes me cry

an uncomfortable glaze over my vision
i do not like being here with you
my captor

the horrible noise from the speaker
it is nothing i enjoy
the soundtrack

the day is slow

Look deeply into the future
You are writing words
You learned this language
Something expanded more richly and more elaborately than you could have ever imagined
You remember when you perceived the word complex as sophisticated and academic
You were a child and now you are something else
Look thinly into the past
You are writing a poem
You do not know this language

i can't keep this stupid smile off my face
while you take me to some stupid place
i pretend to not love you while you chase
but i know you are love bliss and grace

sometimes my thoughts override
the song's chorus
i'll stop thinking so much and
the song
will return with verses of thoughtlessness

the wind shines softly on my skin
the leaves blow in a small way
this bench created gravity
there is one butterfly in the world
just like me

to be a worm that dies in a field
to be a dog that is scared while pooping
to be a nightmare that is ever looping
to be misery that may never yield
to be something that can change
i am something that can change

i was being buried in my beautiful casket
and everyone was laughing their heads off
one last look and i gave them a wink
until i fell into my eternal sleep

everyone laughed when i died
everyone laughing and having a good time
everyone laughed when i died
tears of joy were the only tears cried

when my body dissolved into space
i no longer had to breathe or a face
i hope all of my friends will be happy
and i will laugh from soul world when they die

to be a stream flowing next to yours
or next to no stream at all
i'm sorry but i need my own stream

maybe if we have to romanticize love
it's something else
isn't love already romantic?
we try to patch our wounds
with bandages made of paper that we drew hearts on

A vision of a mole softly digging through the underground soil, searching for earthworms. Feeling its way through the complex tunnel system designed by the moles underground the forest. The mole searches for a while, then finds its labour of other diligent workers.

A vision of roaming through the above woodland. Sun seeps through the spaces between the veins of each leaf. You’re almost floating between the trees, drifting forth. The vision reaches the roadway adjacent to two sections of woods.

A vision inside a car hovering along. The driver forgets that she can see her own hands on the wheel. Momentarily, she looks down at her form to gain some autonomy back from her steed. Through the windshield, her vision is pointed towards some radiant figure in the oncoming distance.

“Beautiful glowing body of light,” a thought bubbles to the surface of her conscious mind.

A vision of some fast, and dark, and loud structure barreling down the pathway. You are almost nothing but the awareness of your surroundings. You sink lower down, lower. The structure is nearing you, even more now.

The radiant body of light is going to phase into her car at this point. The two are going to meet each other. The driver won’t know what it is, the light won’t either.

Sitting in my liar’s chasm
Breaking promises to myself
Think I’ll put my honesty aside
On top of my liar’s shelf

Think I’ll grab some friends to talk to
Maybe they’ll bring out truth
Could stay in my chamber
And pull out my broken tooth

Let a wave of gospel come
And crash upon my shore
I’ll cross every bridge when I come to it
And walk through every door.

they should have a place
to keep their dog souls
pretend words
past boats
memories of hands
i saw a deckhand’s memory
touching his lover’s nose
i watched him
remember city breaths