picture waves and waves

of golden condensation

swimming in this inner world

of velvet contemplation



bubbly quibbly bits

inside throwing fits

tossing and turning

continually yearning



not at all

what was expected

from you

a slurp

a gulp

a saucy stew

this tingly feeling

if only

you knew

resting gently

inside me

if only

you knew

pressing lightly

against me

if only

you knew

but who knows



maybe you do

Sparkly like strings of

red garlands

there lives a little

dustball man

in my lower abdomen

rubbing his tiny

warm hands together

in complete delight.

Always singing

the silliest of songs

his round chubby cheeks

flaming bright pink

just thinking of our kiss

last night behind the dumpster.

Quiet and gentle



this apparition

of caring about

the wind and how

it howls through

the air at top speeds.



Quiet and gentle



this space inside me

when music isn't playing

when silence calms the mind.



Quiet and gentle



this clean atmospheric

liberation front

canton of rhetoric feelings

theoretically seeming

just in its cause.u

This is hard

like yanking teeth

or rising up

from a warm bed

at the beginning of winter.

This is hard

like stepping out of

quicksand or thick mud

like pulling a sled

up a steep mountain

in the midst of

a hazardous blizzard.

This is hard

to lie and lie again

but instead of

shrugging off those lies

like locusts or pestilence

or bugs or mal intent

a sanction needs to be clear

and fully carried out.

My actions need to reflect

past words as rough and as raw

as a sore throat

swallowing cold water.

To persevere is to not give up

even when my mind is trapped

in the heaviest of slumber.



I have to do what needs to be done

even though I'd rather

slit my wrists or cut off my thumb.

Flubber inside

filling out the cracks

you and that

insipid hat.

Wolly sweater

boatload of pins

find out when

our love life begins.

It's quite awkward

when I get so nervous

like hot liquid

boiling in a pan.

It's really kind of funny 'cause

I can't figure you out,

man.

Grist and marrow

you're a stringy

kind of fellow.

And every time I see

your stupid smily face

I get this rubber

in my tummy

a fit I cannot place.

It's been a while

since time has left

be blinded



Rain lightly pelting

on the stone table

outside where wet and cold

is all there is



It's been a while since

my feet felt like screaming

wanting to loop them off

cause of silent pain from

well worn broken shoes

with insides that slip

and whip blisters together



Rain lightly pelting

on my well-being

when work becomes life

and nothing else



the price to pay

for paying rent

wishing my time

was better spent

and isn't strange

that i'm sitting in my car

in a parking garage

thinking of you and missing

your stupid plumb apple face

or maybe it's carved from soap

or shaved glass

fragmented by pieces

collected in bindles

followed by bundles

of the joy i used to have

of the sleep i used to get

of the energy i used to take

and isn't it strange how

i have no desire to have you

all to myself for you are

an automous being that

breathes and thinks and acts

wholy different than me

but i can't help but miss you

and your kiwi colored eyes

with the seeds cut out

dipped in a ring of gold

and like smegal i yearn to

hold that precious ring of gold

in my shriveled hands

even though i know

it'll corrupt me

but i'm drawn to mordor

all the same



that's what it's like

missing you



wanting to go there

even when I shouldn't



and isn't it strange

that my world is shifting

complicit and complicated

a deficit of the senses

a pull from the void

a shake of the head

with such filigree i am sated

but blinded by such yearning

to touch your hot skin

feel it rest

against mine



again but



maybe i'm too addicted to sparks