fire surges in her veins
yet she walks on ice
and mingles with
boys so cold,
that they
burn.

and the price
I am
willing
to pay,

I hope you
miss me
when I'm
gone.

Thugs
Go to Stanford.

And the construction workers
I've seen
Are more likely to spend
Their downtime playing
Video games
Then smoking the ****.

And I've seen my
Fair share of manic,
Wide-eyed young Filipinos
Like myself,

A little browner,
A little more beautiful,
I'm a little more racist
But

It's not okay.

Maybe.

Maybe not.

I guess what I simply want to say
Is there is a simple joy
To watching fingers
Of all kinds
Mold and shape futures,

Whether it be in the form
Of softened concrete slabs
Or the hard writ
Of word,

Whether it taste
Of exhaust smoke
And leather

Or orange juice
The school
Is the sky

The blue sky and the
Fields and university
Is a gold-ringed
Fist and in this

Respect we all have
Our PhDs.

And as for this sheltered
Unsheltered rooftops
Holed like ozone
World we've all built together
Well,

We try to find words for it
And collapse.

Some day
I'm going to
wake up
with a smile
on my face
and this burden
of your
beauty
will no longer
be weighing
down on my chest.

But today
is not that
day.

Dreams in the dusk,
Only dreams closing the day
And with the day's close going back
To the gray things, the dark things,
The far, deep things of dreamland.

Dreams, only dreams in the dusk,
Only the old remembered pictures
Of lost days when the day's loss
Wrote in tears the heart's loss.

Tears and loss and broken dreams
May find your heart at dusk.

then I am wearing black suit,
white shirt, black tie,
pockets full of tissues,
most crumpled, mostly used,
like my spirits

If it's 2pm,
I am in Augusta,
in a baptist church,
a nice jewish boy,
fixing his askewed tie,
doing what
The Lord commanded of him

If it's 2pm,
I am in Augusta,
sunny and 72 Farenheit,
inside of me its a different forecast,
y'all decide the condition,
the condition I'm in

I'm in the way back row,
humming so softly,
me and Johnny C.
nobody hears,
nobody cares,

She stood in the crowd and shed not a tear
But sometimes at night when the cold wind moans
In a long black veil she cries over my bones

She walks these hills in a long black veil
She visits my grave where the night winds wail
Nobody knows, no and nobody sees
Nobody knows but me

nobody knows, I am there,
nobody sees, nobody believes,
but god only knows I am here

my spirit taken here
unasked, unaided, unabated
did not have to fly,
the ship that was to take me,
busted on the rocks

for
the words that are used
to get the ship confused
will not be understood as they’re spoken
for the chains of the sea
will have busted in the night,
will be buried at
the bottom of the ocean

still
If it's 2pm,
I am in Augusta,
at a funeral,
my words gone silent,
even store bought stock phrases,
so sorry for your loss,
not for sale, all gone, all aloft,
all sold out on
this Sabbath day

If it's 2pm,
I am in Augusta,
in some form of which
not readily acquainted,
my new context a riddle,
never knew this morphosis
till now, until
it was needed,
all on that day

If it's 2:45pm
can't understand
all these people standing
over me, and the sidewalk
taste in my my mouth

it appears I appeared
on east 57th street
in my New York City,
it appears I appeared
to have
fainted dead away,
asking me not where how or when,
only why,
and I have no answers for
them or me or anybody who dare asks
a quest,
commencing and ending in
why

must have been the heat,
but decide then and there
maybe go visit
my Jordan and
my grand children

She was a lost and beautiful skeleton,
Caught looking at the sunrise,
Torn by images of him; like firelight,
They flickered in her eyes,
Burning; the smoke clouded blue skies.

He was a big and invisible boulder,
She kept heavy on her shoulders,
Her body trembling under the weight,
Her mind, riddled with love and hate.

But show your cat teeth to the lion,
And carry it no longer,
For with time, we’ll make it into sand,
So agreed, you’re keeping my hand.

Like a flower in a human skin coat,
You’ll wilt before you bloom,
Like a gardener in your colorful, cool, garden,
I’ll care for your tomb.
So keep your eyes on the sky skeleton girl,
Soon you’ll see the sun.

As the fire burns me alive, it feasts upon my skin
greedily ******* the oxygen from my lungs
I can feel the heat licking at my body
It started at my feet
But it won't stop there...
I can feel the Smoke filling me
With every gasp my weak body forces me to take
I'm given no choice
As the Smoke saunters into my airways
Slithers down my lungs
Down to the very last alveolus.

As the endless coughing begins, I ponder my actions
I think of what I did to deserve this
I know what I did
I sinned
An unpardonable sin

I was me

The flames continue, though I ignore them
Although the trepidation inside me burns just as badly.

I will not regret.
Why would I regret doing the only thing I was ever good at?
I was me.

I cannot beg for mercy
But I can stare into their eyes
Into their judgmental souls
I see what they do not:
They are not them.
Not a single person among them is true to self.

I smile

I breath in this staunch air, heavier than the blanket
of breathlessness that I've been enveloped in
for days now
Maybe years even
I'm sure
I think

A single tear tries to offer me one last aqueous solace
Before it withers in the heat

I still can't believe it all had to go this far

I cannot beg for mercy
I won't pretend I'm sorry
I won't let myself down

It's my turn now.
I will light the way.