let's waltz across the shadow of old age
peel off his wilted outline
capture it
like wildflowers
pressed into a page

let's tie our freshest blooms into a bunch
stand a vase inside our stooping house
tease the bees
outside the window
with their perfect lunch

let's masquerade as tragic lovers
with one last defiant dance
no one cares
if tears flow
with our faces covered

Thirteen doesn't have a door,
not a window, nor a floor,
but inside there's a family,
I hear them braying endlessly.

They snort beneath a broken clock,
it's face gives disapproving looks;
"Why are we so down on our luck.
  What sorcery has run amok?"

Umbrellas open in the hall,
hints about their careless fall.
Upturned horseshoes on the table,
should leave no doubts about this fable.

Overt belief in superstition,
is not a very modern position.
But it's cruel to think that others' ills,
are solely brought upon themselves.

When I'm little spoon,
I feel secure.
But please don't leave me
In the second drawer.

I plugged in the ****** router

are an unforgiving itch
they stir in stillness;
scratch the skin
unsettle what
I've settled in.
It's often when I'm vulnerable
that I explore
the fragments
that they lay
  before -
like evidence of my ill intents,
your honour, what I
  should've
   could've
    would've
meant, had I only done things different...
As I stagger through this baying crowd,
their voices swell fubarbaric loud,
until I reach the fire escape
and briefly pause -
why hesitate?
Outside,
the comfort of the night,
the solid floor,
the starry skies;
anonymity will protect
me from my own
(too human)
de-
fects.

we chose
  to orbit
the same sun
  spin through
the same unknowns
  rock up
at the same
impromptu kitchen discos
  fuse together
until the current melts us
  because together
we become
  better and better

when I was very young
I was always falling in love
   carelessly
  blowing
dandelions
not really knowing
the seeds could
settle and grow
(LATER)
autumn's fiery leaves
watched noble rot
kiss the sweetest wine
as careless fingers intertwined
(MEANWHILE)
a thick dust gathered
beneath my bed
caking boxes
of memories