Time rides its great steel grate with
the heavy weight the universes machinery
takes.
Hotter than a call house on nickel night
Cracking the teeth and bleeding gums

on the hate.

I muddy bare arms until I can’t tell them from the dirt
and wait
Life, the gray sound of rolling tires;
procurement, parchment, pamphlets

unlocking the gates.

It’s the caloric weight of a body…
Mineral water minus pillar salt divided by gravitating
memories turning 3.7 % of sea to milk stone
It hoists perception, of this morning,
the overlapping lessons I’ve learned from
waking 1,893,993 suns and breaks port again under breath,
My time displacement,  just 2 feet below the surface of universe.
Movement from the .0000000009 parse of space the  
the planet stood upon
to curdle the place where I was born

Deoxyribonucleic Jerusalem thorn

The course and cause of all equation
is Tomorrow.  And its teeth..
Look at them flooding chalkboards,
like endless petals cut and pasted until the
veins make rhythms the eyes can clerk.
And my pocketful of cherry stems and change,
castoff cogs of Timeworks

My lungs bled from broken eggs;
how does water broker where they go…
What they are a cathedral for…

If only Time didn’t have a say,
If there was no roaring universe washing us away.  
We could spend ourselves in warm blankets, perched in snow
Watching The Clockwork through a telescope

No memories undertoe

The foliage twists out of the ground like sick infection,
and we marvel at the flowers.
Imagine a carousel so old we rode it in black and white
and dreamed the colors
Childhood breaks atop the crease between sleep and history
I am the weights of every day, like stars pulling one another.
Never cowering from the hours

The bespoked branch whips its tendril wrists into moonlit so winded I gave up breathing
Stripping midnight of the exhausted blue atmosphere so poetically I’ve no reason to wake up,
Having heard now everything worth believing
With nothing to let up.

The bespoke branch whips its tendril wrists into moonlit so winded I gave up breathing
It strips midnight of the exhausted blue atmosphere so poetically I’ve no reason to wake up,
Having heard everything worth believing
With nothing to let up.