Carve out the marrow in my bones
and plant a flower there.
Split my ribs for fence posts,
empty my skull for a watering can.
Use my hands for trowels,
plunge them into the earth.
I shall be pushing daisies
come the first sign of spring.

the lady has me temporarily off the bottle
and now the pecker stands up
better.
however, things change overnight--
instead of listening to Shostakovich and
Mozart through a smeared haze of smoke
the nights change, new
complexities:
we drive to Baskin-Robbins,
31 flavors:
Rocky Road, Bubble Gum, Apricot Ice, Strawberry
Cheesecake, Chocolate Mint...

we park outside and look at icecream
people
a very healthy and satisfied people,
nary a potential suicide in sight
(they probably even vote)
and I tell her
"what if the boys saw me go in there? suppose they
find out I'm going in for a walnut peach sundae?"
"come on, chicken," she laughs and we go in
and stand with the icecream people.
none of them are cursing or threatening
the clerks.
there seem to be no hangovers or
grievances.
I am alarmed at the placid and calm wave
that flows about. I feel like a ***** in a
beauty contest. we finally get our sundaes and
sit in the car and eat them.

I must admit they are quite good. a curious new
world. (all my friends tell me I am looking
better. "you're looking good, man, we thought you
were going to die there for a while...")
--those 4,500 dark nights, the jails, the
hospitals...

and later that night
there is use for the pecker, use for
love, and it is glorious,
long and true,
and afterwards we speak of easy things;
our heads by the open window with the moonlight
looking through, we sleep in each other's
arms.

the icecream people make me feel good,
inside and out.

Often I get worried that my words aren't beautiful enough, when they come out of my mouth they seem to be swimming in saliva and uncertainty
and I get angry and spit and shout and say nothing.
Slammed like poetry readings.
I’m not following in your footsteps,
just repeating the rhythm.
(Teach me about good music
So that when do the dishes and hum
my teenie-bopper, headed-to-oblivion melodies,
you know it is malicious.)
Sometimes i feel like the best way to understand the world is to sit in my bedroom
and look out the window, trapped like the cat,
who, when he sleeps, twitches his paws and
i think he is dreaming of meadows, but really he is dreaming
of the living room chair.
“You should have named that cat Hamlet, he so pensive”
I named him Oreo.

Remember that one night you fell asleep—
my fingers running through your hair?
I wanted that night to last forever,
To be completely encapsulated in that bubble,
"Mmmm…that feels nice"- a throaty murmur,
And your voice was sleepy, croaky,
"Don't fall asleep or I'll ******* **** you"- a playful threat,
"Mmm...'K...I won't…" eyes gently shut, you were already under

Sometimes memories fade yet still remain beautiful,
like colored lights seen through a foggy window

Gazing upon a perfectly peaceful face,
My fingers continued to caress the silky wisps of your hair,
I kissed you right at the hairline--the place where your slight hair is duckling down feathers,
Incredibly fuzzy and inviting,
I let my lips drift

I curled up near to my pillow and felt Something so strong and warm unfurl around me

I think it was Love.

the way you make me illuminate
and make my pupils dilate
whenever when we go out
on a starry night with endless bliss

oh darling, let's go outside
make things worthwhile
instead of sleeping
let's go kicking bad habits

in the dark we could do things
lock my finger with yours
and cross your eyes with mine
let's be infinite and forget the world

In theory these words will never hurt
In practice I’ll make it work
My life is hopeless need for wanting affection
I’ll always see it as some imperfection
Why can’t I get it right?

WOMEN OF COLOUR
WHAT’S YOUR FLAVOUR
GALLANTLY TRIUMPHANT
EXOTIC COMFORTS
MAN-MADE FIBRES
AS IT TRIGGERS
THE JOY OF THE WORLD
FOR EVERY BOY AND GIRL
WOMEN THAT WOULD SHARE
OF ECLETIC HAIR
LONG OR SHORT
TO SUIT ALSORTS
‘TIS NOT THEIR OWN
FROM SOMEONE ELSE’S HOAN
ENDLESS SPRAYS AND CREAMS
TO MAKE IT SHEEN
FEELING THE FLOW
OF SOMEONE ELSE’S GLOW
ON TO THEIR HEAD
CHANGING IMAGES OF STEAD
IMAGINERY FALSE
JOIN TO THE PULSE
OF THIS SURPLUS ENERGY
AND SYNERGY
FOLLOWING FASHION
ENDLESS CONFUSION
FULL OF EMOTION

TIME TO MAKE A STAND
FORGET ABOUT TOWING THE BAND
BE PROUD OF ONE SELF
NATURALLY, AND NOT ON THE SHELF
WITHIN THE EXISTENCE
AND BEING PERSISTANT
CLAMPERING OFF THE MOTHER SHIP
AND THE WHIPS
CENTURIES OF CONFUSION
ALMOST AN ILLUSION
MOVING FORWARD TO NOW
HOW TIME HAS GROWN
TO BE ACCEPTED
AS TO BE EXPECTED
THE WAY TO BEGIN
LOOKING DEEP WITHIN
TIMES ENDLESS STRUGGLES
AND MOVING BATTLES
THE DREAM IS HERE
IN THE INNERMOST STRASTOSPHERE
BEING PROUD
SAY IT ALOUD
COMING TOGETHER
LIVING NATURAL FOREVER
THE HUMAN BODY
IS NOT SHODDY
IT IS THE ONE LIFE
OF STRIFE
IN AN EVER CHANGING ENTITY
FROM NOW TO ETERNITY
LOOKING TO SYMBOLISM
USING THE WISDOM
TO BE ACCEPTED AS YOU ARE
THE WORLD TRULY CARES

ONE LIFE ONE LOVE

PEACE

There is a constant urge settled in my chest to leave.
I get off on stupid five minute car rides to the nearest convenience store.
Holding a one way ticket in my hand on a worn train
sends a rush through my heart.
When I walk to the park and swing, back and forth until I loose count,

That is what I live for.

I hope to go on camping trips with people I can share existential crises with while we look at the sky we float in at night.
I want to go to foreign countries and try a bit of every food, even ones I probably won't like.
I'm anxious for the day that I can start driving and keep on going until my gas tank is low and I stop at a ****** diner and talk to a stranger and eat bad pancakes.

And yet here I am, participating in an ongoing robotic system,
Going to school for 7 hours a day,
Going to rehearsal,
Doing homework,
Coming home and eating dinner, hoping my brother doesn't have work that day.

But,
I still have a crying need to breathe, and live, and move.

And I hope that one day,

I will.