caveat! —bursting out as the fuse fetters away
wafting t'ward oil spills, tranquilized guns
with pace maker minds
and time to ****

sickle celled, graving shores
plead to crawl underground
through cascading bile and sedatives
that sift through these negatives
like bangled thieves
who crawl on broken knees
and lie idle under haunted bridges.

bouldered bones intertwine
or veins cut along a dotted line
caveat! cries the sayer's sooth,
for he says it scours and devours—
the slinking nightmare sleuth.

the tar is interrupted in carved equinoxes
soak in the crippled toxins
as the air becomes as thick as theophany
and tharm like grease in blood that take me in,
through ash and mud and
all the spider webs caving in
like delicate gorges forges beneath
nightmare sleuth reaching zenith

caveat, silhouettes
stretched out like oil in water
and this silicon tomb can hold me no longer
for i must break out before i am a goner
because it's a mistake that i'll never shake
your face turns opaque
and there was nothing in your eyes
but dripping flesh

wring out all your words for me
your jeers and your juries
but go cling to your crutch
your kings and your qualms
and the church that burns
in its hallow vacancy

for none can resist the urge
that thieves its delinquents from catatonic catacombs
and quagmire junctions
where the swamp will **** you in
and festering sweat sticks like guilt to your skin
and hell is a nightclub where every loss is a life
and heaven's a daydream with your neck to the knife
it needs no rhyme or reason
and every slip of your broken lip
just lose your grip and give in to the treason
would you rather burn at the stake
than suffer your cement heart break
with no reason or rhyme
it's just the weight of the season

backdrop collapse
railroads unfolding
and like a cell storm the train
is coming your way

and slinks away like a nightmare sleuth
it just takes one swipe of the claw
or one bite of the tooth
and it drags you in
feel the sidewalk sleeping
and the blinking lights creeping
above the overpass
and the cold wind reeling--
it'll be your last.

sparrow song incense oath
wings stunted in their growth
deaf hands fell on mute lips
like windsong through sunken ships

fiending bones refuse to knit
flowers wilt out of habit
the oldest tune sung with shame
willows whisper out its name

leaves buried in muddied frost
skin grows over to covet loss
crows that cry just to forget
lungs forged out of breath

lumber that lingers in the fog
losing sequence through tarnished bog
mossen coffin, wooden rust
remembers a day it once stood up

fire crackles loudest before it dies
wolves howl most with the moon arise
stars that try to swindle the sun
and a venom that dares to spare no one.

among wood ears and twig eyes
is an incense oath rising nigh
like a river that swallows but does not keep
or a tired sewer that never sleeps.

soft soliloquies cannot touch me
for the mountain tops have blurred in the stratosphere
and still deny their shadows from the fog
and sink like marionette martyrs to the ocean floor
and sway refused forfeit flags painted as seaweed

--

stiff joints acost
and above, an albatross!
roams discreetly through the sky
yet all hell's dead
wretched through molten lead
succumb to false alibi
(and fate's caress never questions why)

--

your
bamboo words
and
tourniquet hands

bear loss of convicted man.

and
piano strings
like
forgotten things

have cost all the contraband.

--

--oh, but sweetly they had fallen
the petals which forgot the sun
and faces the moon while acrobats
form the constellations of the sky

and so— so weakly it had passed us by
but yet had still seen the sails of clouds
adream of every lost sunken shroud
ever shining by.

--

defeat me, hang
a noose from every ceiling
--and maybe i'll change my mind
or faint like festered wounds
trailing down the hallways
--and maybe i'll forget the way
you made me see it
clearer than mirror rooms
and moulded like day
(your lungs full of clay)

breathe me out or
sheathe it in
complete me, hang
an emptied world from every airway
to rust all the ventilations
to flood all the irrigations
and condense into the black hole
you left behind.

--

words called windows walk on sunday lanes
toward sideways tree roots with hallow'd veins
and iced over stairways that have no name

or excretories called inventories that fell on dead ends
or ghouls that catapult just to make amends
then rise from idle tidal waves with the bends

perhaps even holes called souls can confine
and mists like cysts fail to intertwine
and fall away as heaven feigns to maligne.

—and oh, how sullen scenes do compromise
the way our flesh restlessly burns and fies.

\'how is it that even something like

----     ----     ----                              poetry ...=

                          {}?  can be confined to little

          //.        prisms +±#

                    and language%

is like'

          ''~  the untimely sun
                                 (I want my words to be the moon
                                                                                              ''/'"//]
                  ever waxing{
                                  and waning|

    and unable to describe)              |||//


^^how is it that even

                                     love*'

           is dealt with in little words ;;
                            spat out in little moves

   and falls away without leaving anything behind ..≈



                          and what is a poem ˚

which cannot confine                                      &;;_

          ..)))  all the sounds that i need


                      ¶••                               each little
                                                                       chk, sk, tw, cr, wt, mx, zb, ydˆ
        .  or every
                          sh, wh, au, oh, lu, qi, je, ei~      


and rhythm is measured in ⁄ ⁄

                                             ›   metres and
                                                                       rhymes .‹

   ''                like falsetto archepelligoes
                                    stretched out in fixed times ...'"



but words are never enough˜

                                                   for (me/you)..//¡!



              and •°love is like·




                            weather balloons



                                                                              all adrift

                                                                                                        with



                                                                                                                         the day.

tsk tsk asterisk
        chk chk clap blam boom

sik click arsonic
         grip glap drap gloom

wix wax anthrax
               hop leap woosh slam

sip spike archetype
               cough crash anagram

hark bark blue monarch
            wrapped in a summer's day

tick tack heart attack
            passing the cabaret


she used to say words like
            bump, beep, buzz

until flutter fizz crunch chirp
            fell beams of a truss

and tenderly did hum zap sing
            in little vrooms and snags

did she meet unfortunate ends
           woof, crack, thud, down crags


shimmer shingles whisper dust
ugh, agh, yawn, sigh!
her eye sockets gathered such beautiful rust
and did crunch clink, flick and eek
to crack the numbing morning moon
but break, snap, bash, sink
into the hyphenated royal lagoon.

Why, we say with perished thought,
of taxes, blood, and groans,
that mortality would be so tedious that
it carries no life of its own
and tunnels through the silken earth
but blind to the unknown?

Mysteries of adrenaline thieves
that pause not in thought but dismay
and ventures through TVs
and cares little of the day
and grinds each crooked tooth
on chemicals that disintegrate.

Words fall to white noise
silence in the ambulance siren's cry
office buildings tumble down
earthquakes blink their eye
but little learnt of each tragedy
is forgotten with every day go by.

Settled and careful, intent on contempt
dull faces, dull pencils, and stars
with dying fires eat our hearts,
numb our minds in taxi cars
hell bound or heaven sent,
each dream left in precise shards.

Demolitions, wars of attrition
the unborn turn in their graves
fighting for freedom and return
not knowing they too are slaves
manufactured like machines
holes in souls we call caves.

And I'm not cut out for blood lust
or ***-and-drug life ecstacy
or thinking that a little violence
is what sets a man free
or caged up by withdrawls
in mind's shattered harmony

I'm not cut out for half-assed heartbeats
faked smiles, sold by the pound
frozen footsteps, weighted measures
eyes digging deeper in the ground
or highway lullabies choked down
or dying in life without a sound.

fresh puddles fell from my finger tips
resolved to fill up
in little water hour glasses
their time wasn't enough
for devils to hold on
or angels to fall
somehow i still feel like
it meant nothing at all
sink into my skin
each cell of mine
disappointing but ever guile
and stretching for futile signs
that maybe life is still worthwhile
(fervently the wind blows cold
too slowly the days grow old
i never thought i'd be the one to make you smile
never thought i'd ever find life is still worthwhile
but your smiles faded with the snow
and i can't keep my promises
can't keep my hopes up anymore)
i feel like i'm going back to five years ago
where my life was a box and i was a broken
boy, needing to escape but so afraid of the
sky
and all my owls couldn't explain my eyes
my whole life envying the eagles' cries
i breathe hard, i stand but still can't face the day
i guess it's in my nature to end it this way


(when the lightning crossed out like paper
we were born on an empty stage
silence before the thunder still hovering
all this time the moon still couldn't engage
and all this time i'm still recovering)