a good too many
snaps and cracks
from the skeletal forest
a gentle brushing
from an acrylic wind
that promenades itself
on marble toes
that crack and shatter
in gouache throes of
violence that
gilds the branches in
flowing starlight
a craggy ribcage
of sprouts and succulents
that paint a scene with
watercolor irony
an eager scrawling
of earthbound rabble
that hops freight trains
and skips life away
a conflict of self
flourished in opals
and ravished in
scented velvet
a good too many
fears and
desires

in the temple at delphi

upon the steps afront

my crown of wire lay



a pile of birds

sat crossed in thirds

my lungs resigned in splay



phobos’ kiss afflicts with bliss

amongst the thistled dirt

the sowing of a new isle



what once was old

and now is true

are a bygone from the blue

what a twisted portrait
i now find myself in
a warped frame
broken at its corners
my colors are leaking out
i am free
my frown distorted to my teeth
my bones overgrowing my eyes
my mirth overflows and
fills the room
my candlelight scored
by the apollo of friendship
my twisted portrait
shredded in sum
i am now a positron to
a dipole
my teeth have grown tenfold
and now sit incumbently
outside my own mouth

a glimpse of a sketch

of an outline of an idea

glittered with the crust

of cobalt wrists

new emotions piano’d

against the tin roof of my memory

analogous to my god

complex

a possessive clutching

at your budding wings

shear them from you

before you can fly

trap you under me

my goading grimace

i feel regret

but i cant let you go

you are my umbra

please stay under me

a two dimensioned demigod

silhouette

how id feel without

my shadow

i havent the foggiest

so long we spoke
seething with breath
a troubled flutter
of a waxed
hour
pattered my nerves
your pins strike true
precisely placed
in my most
blank regions
why my envy
broke my callous
i cant say

the way i want you
so ethereal
i feel lighted as
we speak
my throat catches hard
my skin crawls; is gone
snare drum noses
in a cavity populated
with sugarbugs and
lightning rods
narcoleptic lips trace
arias of sand against
collarbones
my imagistic descent
into coral lined papers
inner tongue colors the
edges of our orchestra
our ballad of temperament
our skewed talents invoked
candelabra memoirs
a love of no soul in particular

every day i slave away
with matted hair and a face of gray
a neutral near, a hostile far
a passive glance at passing cars
a teardrop lake inside a sea
a lotus plant in skulls of tea
a vapor sky, a splash of lye
echoed calls of radio cries
a hidden wish leaves yellowed bones
a sour thought turns love to stones
that plug your stomach and drill your feet
with wants and wishes, with cravings sweet
that pull you under a wicked tide
an anchored flight, but then she died
so how could i