eye cantaloupe
batshit Midas
writer's iambic
within usurp
ender's egret
wherewithal
nearly Mykonos
orangutan elsewhere
eye dye.

By the time we reached the final act
our dialogues turned to whispers
warmed us the pledge to the silent pact
we would be rehearsing under the stars

dew would damp the players' cloth
all but the two were gone
who were tied by the burning oath
must shape their roles to perfection

owls hooted in the night's shadow
world slept behind shut door
we were numbed to the time's flow
by the sounds of claps encore

one the alien had blood thick green
that only the ****** revealed
when unbeknownst was cut his skin
by the other soon to be killed

that time now ***** to yellowed page
long back fate set him free
my skin is now bold in age
he's evergreen in memory.

if we had a bigger place,
you say,
and i agree.
if we had our own beds,
and own bathrooms,
and own apartments,
and if we lived apart
in the world,
life would be much better.

on every corner
i've warned her
to stop fighting
i guess writing
is the answer

i want to stab my wrists
with the pain of carpal tunnel
feel the passion in my crackin knees, please
hurt me more so i can bleed the pain through +pain
and then i want to let it drain the page with pixels; they
used to say ink i think, but now that metaphor is dead. today's
youth, weave a thread through art, digitally; crack a new trail in the rift
without breaking ****; shine a light with LCD. Gee—time isticking
and so is the wifi, my brain attune to it, the birds come near
and fly away. the sky is gray because i see it that way.
i know because when i ask you if it's blue
you say, "no, i see it grey too."
and then we fight about
who spelled it right.

hello baby rat,
have you come to eat my food
and cry when it's all gone, waaaah
with a sharp tooth on each end
bend the rules
a bit
and let me take a ****
"you're
fat" you say

seven sparrows on a branch, a truck horn makes it none

bird on the ledge sings, and when i call him, flies away