blank stares and frayed jackets in a stale breeze
jumping fences because they told us not to
juvenile delinquents forced to read this book
only chapter nine
out of hundreds
the days bleed together in type

-c.j.

what a pretty face
no real structure
but some kind of melody
plays in her eyes
the undeniable kind
that continues even when
you look away

-c.j.

human:
an insult, an excuse
a beautiful reason

alive:
undead, fevered and pulling on IV's
grinning in spite of the news

it's a wild way to live,
with a function

-cj

splattered in the kitchen
early morning chaos
red purple mauve silk
to settle the tummy
plastic wrench-aways
and a pressing watching oven clock

-c.j.

Until the last drop of wine is drunk
and the fruit from the trees
refuse to bloom anymore
We cannot ****** the wolf
and pretend it did not happen

-cj

Isn't it strange, wanting everything everyone else wants?
Are they expectations?
If we didn't see what is so desirable, maybe we would want something else entirely

-cj

this melody screws itself
an unlikely candidate
supposed this was the start
of another debate

-cj

You are cumbersome with your resume in my face
This is the working world, not a respite for your imagination, and the wild things that live there
Now isn't it heavenly, having to labour to get by?

-cj

I fell asleep with a pen behind my ear
is midnight your cliffhanger, too?

-c.j.

Open your heart, they said
You will find what is right for you
But as the songs/books/faces/walls
ricochet between my eyes,
I know all I want is somewhere
other than here

-cj

instead of typical introductions
our voices just sort of came out of their beds
and began something we both admit within
to like very much

-c.j.

The simple truths can pierce nonetheless
How, in morning's wake, the clock buzzes and screams, a mournful cry
And as your legs gather stamina and oxygen infiltrates your brain
Your heart begs to stay in bed, safe, undercovers,
Where there is no one to pretend with, none to breathe with then break from

-cj

radio babble
an instance of purer lessenings
in probability
listening for the catch
the snag, the definition
anything
then we were home

-c.j.

Rebellion never tasted so good
These are the things I thought I knew, I sing
Plagiarising the familiar, sewing it on my tongue
We crept, locked doors, did the unwriteable

Did I really know before
When we're on the phone you playfully tell me
It was all a ploy, a clever ruse, me saying I had
so much to say
You stay on the line anyway

It gets better, they told us, and you pinned your
dream to your body
I told you, now you can relax with snowcapped
mountains on your chest
And you said, I will, but I would prefer you

Do you like staring at the back of my head
While everyone talks about law and confusing
things I typically ignore
Glancing back to you is my favourite part
We study the statue and then I leave to
read sonnets, you depart with the others to the water
The library feels empty without you

Remember when we were looking through old
cassette tapes and CDs and I put my hand on top
of yours for the first time?
That was rebellion, too
After lonely, after relapse after relapse
I found a light
and I held onto it

-c.j.

windows couldn't fool you
sorry, this is a trick, no different
from last time
stop your repeated nothings about it
come on, we're worth it
and you know it

-c.j.

Cinematic bustle, a line of greed and full pockets
I'm a novice, please don't expect too much

-cj

hey wolf, precious wolf
you know I love you
I'm sorry you are sad today
but remember, everyone feels that way
sometimes a part of me says to let them in,
these unhappy friends
and there is not a dry eye once I do
I know that everybody's watching me,
but I remember everyone has made mistakes
you are a precious wolf
we will keep reminding each other of these things
that sadness makes us forget

-c.j.

burned into the paths we tread
are these dots, big and black
drag your feet, and they are
connected but your continuous tracks
you never really cared for change
unless you made it happen
the zig zags, the diagonals, the dips and plunges
the robotic transformations
it's all lines and points
a graphic view of these phases
take it back to the origin, trace the way to the present
and pray you don't get lost in the nostalgic vines that encumber you on the way

-cj

Weird part is I don't feel any guilt
Most just copy and paste, it becomes boring
Why why why among a trillion bits, currents
Needing help or a peace or a soft drink
Fizzy bubbles inside to catch tenderly
I like weird parts, I think

I am staring at the bottom of this well
there is nothing to tell
I am sure of that as hell
I am staring so hard my eyes start to hurt
my bones are shaking and my case is breaking
what I really wonder is
are you convinced that this is all I'll ever be
are you convinced
are you
don't take me down
don't say it's off
don't be convinced

-c.j.

the first time we touched was
the coinciding of many lives
though I only felt purely my own
it may have been the crashing of
the hardest of hearts,
forming holograms that shine with infinity
but my heart felt soft as it finally reached yours,
and stayed there, finally home

-c.j.

Nobody knows what you are thinking
except you and the thousands of yous
in that pretty skull of yours

-cj

Let me go, please
But no, there is more to reveal, more to
uncover to the exterior
Now I know that to these words
I am eternally inferior

-cj

x's and o's
kiss me on the nose
lines, parallel and sound
make my eyes grow big
and round
stitched in ****** sequence
our segments overlap
something harmonious

-c.j.

I'm blind, he speaks his mind
I'm mute about his mind as he
claims that I'll deceive,
I'll dearly deceive
as the close of this is what I really want

I'm blind, he speaks his mind
with branches and brambles
and utterings
we'll quiet him
I dream that it is finished

cut the lesions, stand up with your joints
solely heave the streaks to recent motion
I dream that the gossamer would shelter me
my ruthless teeth shield only one

-c.j.

I can feel the devil
working within
Not the world's devil
But my own
personal hell-giver
Oh, how I treat him
I obey him
And he blinds me
in return

-cj

did I ever think I could get past this
without a relentless spinning of
nostalgia records playing in my head
as we disconnect
admit the nauseous narcissism
that foments within
**** this
should we rebegin?

-c.j.

I'm in the nation's capital
And it feels like the centre of the universe
Everyone drinks their coffee and ingores
each other, the cold nipping at the
skin exposed slightly beneath their sweaters
Is that where it all happens?
Do the things they decide there affect me?
The buildings' windows are transparent
WANTED signs, and I look up at them
somewhat admirably
I don't know whether I love or hate
this country
It is either great or evil, and the extremes
polarise further with my continuing to see
people people people people
They crowd the centre of the universe

-c.j.

passive-aggressive
submissive-combative
the sirens of your toxic spirit encourage
competition that I cannot stand for
so I fall straight back again
my blood hiking up the thermometer
to boiling point

-c.j.

You are a beautiful pianist,
she touches my hand and says
Seventeen and horrified, maybe
Terribly sympathetic,
playing blue arabesques and
yearning for summer

-cj

Enough of the amourous, February's far
Speak of the little bells instead
Ringing then clanging around in my head
Because it is said that when one writes
of the trouble, it can dissipate, be silenced
If only that were true of love, our blood,
and dew
Whose images forever stay and turn us blue

-c.j.

The first one, all night-black and chalky, tumbles down the road as I have fretfully done since August and January and all the months in between
I travel alone

If I ever wrote a novel
I'd dedicate it to the person
who snuck into my brain
as I slept
Convincing me that this is not
a hobby, not a chore, not
leisure, nor fun
Telling me that once I think
I've finished
It's only just begun

-cj

tell me what to write in my journal
give me an overdose of kisses, admire my red lips and how they speak of winter
light a candle for me, I am coming back
when we fell in the vineyard and realised you're all I need
draw my name between two points, alpha and omega
remember that you are loved despite your faults, as you love me, the more faulty one

-c.j.

how about tomorrow?
(ha, ha, ha)
is that later? is that enough?
or will another season, semester, suffice?
(I wanna be with you)

-cj

what a shallow ending to such
a beautiful beginning, darling
we thought we could breathe
without lungs
underwater
I guess we learn the hardest way

what a comatose close to what
we started, darling
why don't you come close and
scream in my ear?
besides, your voice is all I hear
love dives into us
then leaks out of our mouths
we thought we were heading north
when really we were due south
our hearts have sunk to
the depths below
but they still hurt

-c.j.

What you do to me isn't happiness
It is something else entirely
And oh, how it tortures me

-cj

we're hollowed out and it's blissful
perfection in ice-cube form
the credits are rolling and you speak as if
words burn your tongue
take me to those places you used to only
like going to alone
oh, vast and relentless is our trouble,
and we love it

-c.j.

the devil we know will chase us until we get there
until the last page
(he stirs up all the rage)
back home there are no beds warm enough to
sustain us
worse, there is no wonder
english became devilspeak and there is no way
around the despicable revelry
so like ink we bleed, pages thick
at least until satan's clock ceases to tick

-c.j.

There is no name for this
A blanking emotion that fondles each nerve
What I have left to say is
I'm sick of it
I'm tired of neverending nothingness
I want to run
Because I always knew I would

-cj

The white flag
collected colour
once he entered
the room

-cj

though you are faster than me,
I find beauty in the slowness I embrace
you tell me we are only strong when
the winds are weak

and you caution
occasionally the sun burns too bright,
and his brilliance is frequently obscured
but you tend to shed light through
your prism, despite lacking shameless retrograde

you say what lies beneath the ground
is deceitful, and o Rose, you are planted in it
and then I saw a peculiar violet light

-c.j.

she's scratching to see blood
an inevitable happenstance
it's framed and hung over her head, over her bed
as she lays in it throbbing and howling

-cj

Apparently if you have a hard time
you are a statistic
If you make a mistake
a rather large one at that
You are stupid and foolish
This is why you and I
We fall asleep with songs
playing into our many voids
Crammed with empathies
better than what we are
told on the other side
of the spectrum

-cj

any number divided by itself is one
it's two of us on the run, running for cover
as gods left and right and up and down yell
"take it or leave it," our pulses triple
to the number we divided by itself

-c.j.

isn't the wall at the door supposed to end up
in the fireplace?
the chimney beckons him and he obliges and
continues to whistle the chorus of his death march
thinking he'd sleep like a baby tonight

-c.j.

It's not quite morning yet
The night is fading, its plum and dark fruit watercolours are drunken by the sun
like a rewinding cassette tape

-cj

Cathedrals still speak of you-
Photographs yell our names
in every language
We occur so frequently,
and when we do,
oceans applaud

-c.j.

I feel it all rippling like royal flags
within me
and when I look into a mirror I don't
recognise myself, my skin has
become so pale
blue eyes incite magic that god only knows
I can't control
inner sensations double as sirens,
piercing another likely story through the glass

I feel it all, and it's beginning to ache
so burn these flags for my body's sake

-c.j.

I suppose I wouldn't mind waking up to turquoise skies
painted outside the window
When I'm dreaming of you,
I sing to the mirror like I am serenading a paramour
but it is nonchalant, almost fearless,
with my voice still in a tumble of organs and sleepy phlegm,
finding its way out
My fingers turn the faucet on, and the sink streams water out with the slight whistle of the pipes in the background
It's the beginnings of morning,
in the sequence that those prime-coloured skies ensure

-cj