It's killin' me,

the way you always
heed my silent becks
to the cat's cradle
for the dim-dusked
shimmyings we do,

for the middle of the courts
hopscotchin' we improv
in the
catacorner criss-crosses
we continue to let
splash
in the middle of our
bashing pool.

stakes are
brimstoned
high
this time-

higher than the dizzy chicks
with flower magic
stick-on things
not really covering their ******* -

their faith's got them
grinning down
proudly
to the matrix hubbub below,
from the drooping shoulders
of their guy bits
in matching flowers

('cause we're all one here
yeah? - yeah!).

tonka tricks
litterin' my walkway -
slinkin' around,
tryna play on with
the big cats -

instead,

just trippin' up my
flutter game -

chill out.

i mean,

i'm not complainin'
'bout the mess your
charcoal lashes keep
leavin'
after payin their
naughty boy dues
to them round things
just one step down -
makin' love to
the apples bobbin'
in cheeky
conversation.

i've kinda got this
cheshire thing goin' on -
the way my smile swells
too slowly for you -
showin' off whiffs of
those secret things

the ones i only hold onto to
to keep rattlin' your cage
with the big toys
i keep tellin' you
you can't have.

but
you keep
swimmin' in that pool
of excessive *****
traps
thinkin' there's a way
to ****** the magic
carpet from beneath my
bottom,

believing some dumbly
that your charcoal
is the only fire starter i'll ever want
markin' up my agenda.

you're screamin' a bit too loud
now, Cubby -
readin' to me the words
i can't see written across
my face.

I can't see 'em
without a mirror,
though i can feel the letters
being etched into my skin
with every flipped card
i wasn't
necessarily
tryin' to flip.

but, honey
i got cosmic dust
stored in my fingertips

a special
spunky mix
i like to throw down on
in the kitchen with
the sandman's concoctions -

plan A and plan B
it's a fight just to see in -
need to be prepared
for whatever is comin'.

though you ain't snatched
the rug yet,
i'm lollygaggin' on the
tip of the edge

my carpet's doin this
rufflin' thing -
and i'm slippin'.

you got me
colonizin' your corduroys
draggin' my stirred and ragged heart
behind me -
too sturdy and ambitious
in its wild-hearted
persistence.

gonna bust open
this fruit bloom, here
if it takes me all day
and all night.

I am
an ant,
looking for salvation
in big places.

Shimmy wild
Shake down -

This is some
Railroading
Existential
Trolling
****.

I’m plugging in-

A glaring glitch
In your singular
Reality.

You’re completely
Right
If you think I’m
Taking advantage of the fact
That you
Think
We’re all just
Programmed players
In your
Sacred
Existence.

My iridescent snicker
Isn’t what’s up for debate
Buddy -

I know there’s a coyote
Lurking about
Somewhere
And I’m gonna let that
*******
Chuckle & buckle
Up
Until I lose it
In the
Trippiest corners
Of your mind;

Whistling like
Whispers
Where words
Sound like
Wonders

Bathed in
Confusion
At its best.

I’m gonna make you
Wonder
If you’ve ever
Waken up
At all.

--

Gear hopping
Daily
From your
Native system
To
“What the hell’s
Even
Going on anymore?”

Don’t worry
Though
Darling.

I only switched
The blues
And the greens.

You’re only sleeping
If you believe
You are.

let's talk about love
and how it ***** your **** up
while you sip on its elixir
like it's doing
the most
wonderful thing in
the world
for you -

how it thrusts you
into the darkest places
you've ever known
to feel **** you
really feel

but
not
really
at all -

let's talk about how
beautiful it makes the world
when it does you
right
and how dark it can get
so fast -

or

how it can put
your entire
life
on fast
forward
or
set it on
a blissful
pause
or
bring it
to a
screeching--

STOP.

i've gotten my hands
plenty *****
in this game -
thinkin' i wouldn't
need gloves
to play

but
****'s dirtier than money
though
sweeter than honey...

so i sip
once more -

in lieu of
the learned
and because
of
the learned -

i'm downin' that elixir
until i'm ****** over
silly
because what
has been
learned
has been
learned
hard
& good:

drunken love
is the
only way
to love.

Dear poet,

Dear ***** talker of some unrequited nasty,

Dear slow admirer,
Noticing my detail like a detective

Twist this halo into handcuffs
And love me already

Or don’t

I’m not real

And if I were

I’d hate to be her

You perfect pitch psalm sayer
Waxing generic

Quit the verbal dance

And dance with me

I am glad you know I’m not perfect

I am as faulty
As a topographical map of California

This body is chills

Is goosebumps

Is legs that were soft yesterday

Kiss them

Prickle your cheeks

Does your beard know the difference?

Do you?

Do I feel like scented sandpaper love notes
Still stained with a kiss?

I know I might just be squid ink to everyone else

But you dear poet

Dear detective
Black lighting my flaws into glowing beauty

Put your lips to my stains

They still taste like stains

You made them

You made me

You made me Dear Poet

Stop talking

And take me

She loves the beat,
bass so heavy
it hurts.

She loves the heat,
ecstasy,
short skirt.

In the middle
of these times,
I'm square.

I'd like to be
with New York City,
if she'd ever take
a bore like me.
But
in the middle
of her times,

I'm square.

I'd like
to hear her
digitally
repeating,

with her
lips pressed
against my ear,
soft whispers,
heavy breathing,

*they can't stop me.
No,
they can't stop me
from dreaming.

Put a bottle opener
on my key chain today.

A **** poor
puddle of greed,
wouldn't it be
terrible
to have fifteen
people,
exactly like you,
all in the same room?

Your perfume,
a concept
rather than
a fragrance,
I must
accept
the difference
between
being upset
and let down.

There was a bible,
its' pages fluttering on a freeway.

while you were singing in the churchyard
i was sleeping in the ***** barn
beside a withered picture of an astronaut
and a long beard filled with street secrets

while you were burning up in sainthood
i was screaming into a melancholy leaf
wearing sweat on my miserable *****
and a liar's grin on my face

while you were murdering your wife
i was milking this dream for all the light
and i thanked god on bended knee
saying you're a turtle dove in an icebox

while you martyred yourself into the ocean
i carried you with me on my road to freedom
like an aligator stomped hard by a mockingbird
or a mermaid shot full of antibirth tablets

If time is a convincing illusion, then as I am writing this,
you are reading it; you are remembering me years after
we have spoken last, and I am noticing you for the first time.

I'm a young woman waking up in an apartment in Albany,
New York, realizing that I am finally broken enough to fix,
and an East Boston moppet in ***** pink overalls, riding
Big Wheels through the sprinklers with a boy named John Henry.

You're delivering newspapers on a cold New Hampshire morning.
I am falling asleep wondering if you could possibly love me.
You are saying that you do. You are stardust, and I am long gone.