looks like an angel
as caring as a mother
I think she's perfect

My bed is broken
My heart a flake
Eyes sealed dripping
With my mistake

I am not that
not a storm before sunrise,
awakening the slumbering seaside
with sprays of churning ocean,
watery elemental
breaking against the bluff
with every exhale
- quickened heartbeat -
pounding the shore with
black-water fists
I am not that
the master of nature
calling the mountains to rise
and the rivers to run
Planting my flag
in my earth.
No.

I was strong once.
When I kicked from the womb.
Now I lift my hands
only to be held
by another.

I was sitting in my basement thinking about my attic as I awaited the first bombs to drop in the next world war

I guess I'm pretty lucky to understand that metaphysically nothing really is unless we perceive it is so even death by chemical nerve agents can be a pleasurable experience that we come back for again and again

And that time I died before when the only metaphor would have to be trying to guide a wooden canoe across an active volcano

I can't wait to try that again

Someone spoke the word "love" and it gave me a flashback to watching elephants in the circus so I decided to start teaching goldfish to do backflips as an interesting parlor trick similar to pulling out a deck of cards and always randomly choosing the queen of spades

I have a flashback to a flashback in which someone spoke the word "love" and it reminded me of the Blurred Crusade and a trip to the circus and an elephant graveyard, my brain is a goldfish in a fishbowl (watch me turn) it's like the old parlor trick of pulling out a deck of cards and always randomly choosing the queen of hearts

My intention was never to be reasonable