Am I?
One day late, I am... but Am I......
Let's see.
Drive down. Thank you for shopping, have a nice night. Drive up.
Am I?
Fiddle and fumble and fluster the box.
Am I?
Okay, here are the instructions. Stream or cup?
Stream or cup? It didn't occur to me that that was a decision.
Cup it is.
Waiting.
Am I?
Am I?
Am I?
I'm probably not, but what if I was? Would I? Could I? Should I?
Whew.
I'm not.

The ugliest person is a monster.
His talons taunt and tease.
He waits for a hint of weeping.
He cackles at your misery.

The ugliest person is a scuttling bug.
She sneaks and snoops and snarls
She's just too close and just too far
To resolve her started quarrels.

The ugliest person doesn't think
The others need to eat and drink
His only concern is his own name in ink.

The ugliest person feeds you a stew
With a drip of her and a drip of you
Stirs and simmers until you want it too.

the ion we once relied on has gone the way of pressure and made a diamond
the alchemy we once cheated enchants our dreams though we feel defeated
i've seen gold in the rain that collects on my window pane; i'm only rich on rainy days
i can't disagree that the finer things are sometimes those most killing me

conversation meets symmetry. life beyond telepathy
holding out your hands in cosmic reach beckons
the nebula to both learn and teach

i found the bottom of my shoes gripping the past like cement fitted boots
i recovered your heart like a star with the arrows that i shoot
i've unearthed more than words with copper plated truth
but mostly i've thought of all the ways to repeatedly bury and unbury you.

There is a line
the thinest hair of difference
between heartbreak and euphoria

Like the border that splits
two countries
that are constantly at war

But they say, you can still respect those
whom you are fighting

There's admiration
even in the face of its contradictions

There are realms
i feel i pass through
often daily
often a tender struggle
between where I am and where I'm not

A prophet once said
that the thought of paradise is paradise itself

Well I guess i don't possess
a great imagination

After we ended our love
you suggested we remain
friends
I told you there was no point
to that
like the winter after Christmas day

Walking by the McDonalds
Licking an ice cream cone
It's vanilla
Like his skin
There's a creeper behind him
Wearing some shades
Probably wants the kid
He has ice cream too
But NO, Ryan says
He's holding kid's hand
Wearing some sandals.

Yellow bird inside an empty body
Thrashing up against the bones
Becoming bruised like tender fruit
Its carrier wondering about its strange migration route
How exhausted it must be from heavy miles
How it must be melting off its honey colors
And hushing to an antique gold
Poor dull creature,
Tossing back and forth,
Deafening itself with snaps and cries
Realizing something, as if highly intelligent
That it’s better to be hunted than haunted
Yellow bird, poor creature
Bursts like a fist against the ribs
Litters the body with its feathers.

He carried her home as she slept
Her dress like a wilting flower
He set her down in a pool of moonlight
So the dress dried on the loveliest hour.

It does. It does. It does.
You can't help it
You can only prolong it
I don't know why you would

WHY! Does it have to come to an end!