passive indulgence
over, under, and again
never dying down

Them again
Hooting and hollering
On the block
I can’t believe
I’m bothered by
Their confidence
It’s like they’re
Mocking me
Just for trying to exist
And they’re calling me a *****
Maybe I’m a *****

But I don’t like being in public
I don’t like being in public
Unless I’m making money
Or I’m spending money

There is a self
that is my self
but not just mine
it is us all
and in that all
I will meet you

I’m in the company of new folks
Or else folk if that’s appropriate

The singular and plural still perplex me

But approaching them is
Easier to do than I expected
Easier at least
Than trying to relate to the smiles
Fixed at regular intervals that
Span the distance between us

I pass them all by
Oh so happy to see them
With a nod for a greeting
Before seating myself
With the self-proclaimed degens
A few glasses of wine behind
But accepted and liked
Even seen by
Strangers whose faces
Show something that’s just as much mine
As it is beyond me

We’re all introduced
And decide we enjoy
One another - at least
With the alcohol, so

We migrate toward the only vent
That isn't in the only restroom
Of the venue of the thing
Eventually reciprocating contact information
Before drinking all together
At some other bar
Some place
We’re not so worried about
Sharing or hiding ourselves
And promising we’ll meet again soon
Fingers crossed

Chasing any dragon
Propels us forward
Ever forward
Stop?
We couldn’t handle it
Stop?
We’re gonna **** ourselves
Stop?
You keep away from
Any dragon I admire
I will chase that beauty
Indignant that you would rob me
Of anything beautiful
Even far off promises
I mostly imagined
Tell me that I am loved
I am good
Beautiful in my own right
But oblige me this chase
When so many others
Confuse and frustrate me
Pushing me to favor manual
Chemical replacement
When days (weeks/months) spent
Righting the balance
Is suddenly wayward
If I’m choosing the chemicals
No one catches dragons in the manual

this is a haiku
I don't think you will like it
it is very short

the flower is old
splashes of pink are not so
petals fall away

there’s a portion of my jaw
that’s been decaying for a while
but my dentist said it’s nothing
so I’m living in denial
of the costly surgery to come
if I can even swing it

I’m rotting
I’m rotten
counting on tools
that I sabotage daily
to harness an energy
I can’t generate,
so often,
too often -
I’m looking at the cost of a coffin
instead of getting prepped
for a day in the life

How often I
Get into cars with drunk people driving
I shouldn’t be surprised by
The people who have faith
In other questionable ****
Jesus may be just as inevitable
As the wreckage to come
Just not today
Never today
Still - y’know, statistically
I put my faith in just as
Logically indefensible ****

Knockaround shoes in the middle of winter
There’s holes in the toes of my Vans
And the heels of my socks - soaked through
From the puddles I couldn’t avoid
On the way to play a gig at your place
In your basement, it’s only you and your dog

You pick up your bass and play
For an hour out of tune
I could just leave, but I’ll smoke and drink
This coffee from the guy you’re doing
This coconut creamer is sweet enough
That neither of us bothers with
The stevia, agave, or flattery
Typical when men and women
Are as close as we’ve been getting to getting it on
Without getting it on

to think that love
could be made and
that we could make it
we two being
what we are
hopeless romantics
worshipping an ideal
we've been the
gods of all along

too long
have we settled to take
whatever came our way
too long
have we waited
in silence
hoping that
"destiny"
would run its course
when "destiny"
was in our hands
from the very beginning

they say
the world is ours
for the taking
but anyone
can take the world
it's a ripe piece of fruit
dangling over
the public side
of a fence
all we'd have to do
is stand on tiptoe
and wrap one hand around it
but what would we do
with the world?
take a bite
and leave it to
a swarming anthill?
no
the world
is not for us
to have

we are not
consumers
after all
we are
creators
and while our
resources
are limited
you being everything
that's mine
and I being all that's yours
we manage
to make
what others
cannot
find

here, we make money
last. the same twenty dollars
buys a nine line high.

I've been working on this drawing
I guess it's more of a rough draft
But that's what this character should look like
I think
It's an early look, of course
You know, concept art
But look
This is a character I'm getting to know
And I think this is them
Maybe this could be them
What do you think?
You like it?
No, I know it's not finished
But what do you think?
Yeah, I know
I just thought it was cool
And I thought, you know
Maybe you'd like it
It's cool
Like I said
It's not finished
You'll love it when I'm really done
No, you'll love it for sure

he collects unopened packs of playing cards
that sell him this experience of
hyperventilating with the hope of something invaluable
popping up in an unexpected pack of playthings

                                                               ­                     “They’re collectibles!”

the customer’s wringing his fingers
like he’s pulled the crank of some slot machine
promised to pay out big

                                                            ­                                      “THIS TIME!”

as he rips the packaging
to get at the meat of his purchase
card after card fanned before him
plainly shows his gamble

                                                               ­                                  “Didn’t pay off
                                                             ­                                     this go ‘round.
                                                         ­                           ***** to **** and all,”

he gets the thrill he paid for
but still walks away with less somehow

In Autumn when the leaves thin:
The way along the sidewalk is
Easier to navigate. I barely duck
Or change direction
Where I’m used to hitting my head.

I watched an episode and a half before
remembering my laundry in the washer
needed changing over
but the dryer hadn’t finished with the
bathroom rugs
despite having finished its cycle so
I turned the dial around to the dot and
twisted the **** to the right
prompting the rickety dryer to tumble
the dampness from the still-damp rugs
if possible
while my clothing sat off to the side
in a pile to soak and
I hope not but
possibly mildewed

The sun wants to eat us all
The sun wants to eat us all
It would have happened quite some time ago
If the Earth wasn't quite so small
The sun wants to eat us all

It paralyzed my love, as
She stepped in view of the sun
I ran to save her, but I fell myself
Is my spirit strong enough
Is my spirit strong enough

I panicked at the thought that
You might lose your light
I was aware that my body was there but
Yours wasn't by my side
Yours wasn't by my side

So I pushed my arms
And legs to the limit
I was traveling at light speed
But couldn't do anything to
Bridge the galactical gap between us
I couldn't keep up with you
It’s like you travel at lightspeed too

We flickered off and on with the
Enormity and heat of the sun
Then her outline flared as the fire and air
Overcame everything she was and
We were muddled up in the sun

It was a fiery faceless sea
But there’s a part of you I recognized as me
That made incineration feel like ecstasy
You did away with my egoic truth
I was content to think I’d be consumed
                  
Until out of the miasma as two beams of light
We sped through outer space to what we left behind (as us)
Instead of the intensity of being one
We chose the selves we couldn't stand to lose
Not to the fear of our impending doom

Heather has this bluebird
loves her so much
mostly since she’s always feeding her
not even sure the bird’s female
just what Heather thinks

after biking around Portland
seeing so many dead squirrels
and bluebirds
being eaten by crows mostly
and maggots

it is nice to see a bird
excited to be around people
that wants attention
that wants walnuts mostly
but squawks happily around us

happy as I am to see this bird
I can’t help but think of
the birds I’ve seen as roadkill

so as Heather scatters walnuts
I see it in the courtyard:
a dead bluebird
the bluebird has been picked open
its bones bare
maggots feasting on its carcass

from its body comes another
just the same
but living
it hops over to the walnuts
scattered in the courtyard
and squawks its appreciation

walking home at something like one o’clock
this man has his belongings
spread across the width of the sidewalk
spilling over into the grass on either side
he’s standing right in the middle of the **** pile

so I get to him as I inevitably would
thankfully protected from conversation
by audio-technica
I sidestep him and his specialty garbage
smiling broadly at inaudible snarling
and shouting I blissfully ignore
for several blocks
until this car’s lights flash
as it passes me on Fremont

a blue smudge floats about my right eye
I blink and the smudge begins again only clearer
again quickly
again again
blink blink
wink
is that a knife?

a spiral of increasingly recognizable knives
swirls about my eye
pivoting with my left
I swing my right foot clockwise
to turn around and pause
my right heel against the pavement
with my toes pointed up

I carefully adjust my headphones
as I gaze intently toward a figure in the distance
he doesn’t feel so distant

nope

I take a couple steps backward
not breaking my gaze
then turn abruptly forward
hastening my pace
I don’t need to run
he’s not that close
just walking quickly, maybe briskly
should be enough to make it home
I don’t know
he won’t follow me
not all the way at least

the sun is up
and I hate it
return me to the deep blue
of about 5:00 AM
seven is bright enough
I see why some people
would work in this light
but it’s more light
too much light - the
sun in my eyes looking
into the same sky
that offered a universe
hours ago
it offers a bright blue
and light
that illuminates
what is before us, but
the universe is lost to us
daylight forces our perspective
suddenly bickering
and industry
waking dreams
populate our waking moments
and what is before us
takes precedence over
likely dead stars
too far off for you
to have known
far off friends
we lost so long ago
before the sun
usurped them
yes
far off friends
already dead
but somehow preferable
to whatever this
blinding light
and unbearable heat of
the day bothers to offer

We haven’t conquered anything
And that’s okay
It’s frustrating demanding something
Other people don't exactly like
When you and them - or they
Enjoy what they can get
From all the work
You ought to
All be doing
But it seems you’re doing
On your own
They really have a handle on
What you can’t get your head around
But it still feels like
It’s just you that’s doing
What’s important

But what are you doing?

here in this city
again, we have potential
my neighbor and friend

The washer and dryer mask the sound of Nana and me
Down the three or four steps to the garage
Of the Blackberne house
Her hands on my hands or more likely
Gripping my forearms
As dimples take over my chin
Voice shaking
As she dredges the grief of the day out of me

The closest I'll get to almost opening
That infamous browser app
The one shaped like a stamp
On my LG enV Touch
The wavy blue thumbnail
That one
Or the rotating Earth
The one led by an arrow
On another LG
It's a flip phone
I don't know the name
But the first one I had
I might add
I just did
It's been added
Is probably opening apps
That alert other people
To my sleeping habits
It's five o'clock
I'm out back smoking
And check Instagram
Then remember my mom
Asking me why I'm up
On her schedule
And swipe up as if
She'd be charged for that ****
And she is
What an angel for paying
For me to have
PHONE
Not the same as it was
Frantically tapping before I'm punished
Or I have to say why I did what I did
Same and not in some ways
But as close as I'll get

I needed to die - apparently
You keep telling me
You’re going to **** me
But I still take your calls
And invite you into my home
Expecting some drama
I’m just glad not to be caught off guard

“You trust that I’m not gonna **** you”
“Of course”
His arms cinched around my neck.
I really wanted to hold out as long as I could
But I couldn’t go more than a couple of seconds
Before my hand slapped frantically for release

-

He’s got his hands on my shoulders
I’m ******* in air
Which is normal
But I’m somehow ******* down air
Yeah, I know I said ******* in air before
Then ******* down
But however I’m *******
I went from tapping his arm to

- I don’t ******* know -

I just died
For a second at least
And he’s sorry
And I don’t know what for
I said that I trusted him
Sure
I was scared
For a second at least
But I didn’t feel anything anymore
Almost as soon as I started to
Worry that I wasn’t really okay

After all of that
All I can ask is,
"Can you crack my back?"

in the longest days of summer
the sun could be up ‘til ten o’clock
PM of course
the night begins then
the street lamps every block or two
when those come on
we’re expected home
that’s nighttime
so the sun’s going down around ten
that’s PM again
and it rises around five
AM if it matters
so there’s barely seven hours of dark
to call night and
that puts midnight
around one-thirty
AM, ya know
so while midnight is twelve
again AM, yeah
twelve AM
it’s not really midnight
well, it is
because midnight is accepted
to be twelve
AM, I know, but
I want to be clear
so if nighttime is
measured in darkness
at least where I am
and particularly
at this point in the year
twelve
AM again
just isn’t the median - how?
at least not of darkness
so midnight
the whole concept
just doesn’t make sense

Dancing like
Spinning is
Basically
What dancing is
Touching more than
Either of us touches
Dizzy now
Falling and
Catching ourselves
In a moment
And you get
Into them
I want to
Share in your
Joy -
Don't change the song, not yet
I just got into it
Once we can breathe again
We will be over it

Whenever I need to
Take a number two
(That’s a poo)
You can bet your rear
That I go in fear of
Something near enough to
Sink its fangs into my ***
Toilet snakes!
They’re hiding in the drains
They’re coming for my bottom
I can’t get them off my brain
It’s bad enough that **** is shaped
Exactly like a snake
A ***** ***** cylinder
That could be filled with venom
Or with what I ate
For dinner yesterday
It’s finally digested
Now it looks that way
scream
It’s a snake!
scream
It’s a snake!
You’ve got to flush that **** away

I want to cry
Suddenly
Sitting at the computer
When I should be
Hosting the party
But the people I wanted
Aren’t here
And the people that are
I mostly love
But the sadness
Is built in at this point

It’s only natural
When you cut out impurities that
A bit of you comes too

When you cut a splinter
From your palm
Using a pocket knife
You cut across the top
Of where you see the splinter’s shadow
And pick it
With the tip of the knife

Now
Ideally
That’ll pry the splinter loose
One shot
Maybe a bit of blood
No tears

But if it’s a stubborn ******
You could pick and pick
And pry up chunks of skin

The blood gets going
And the splinter digs in deeper
Just because you won’t let up
And it’s a whole ordeal

But you’re determined
Not to let it get the best of you

You never said what made you heart react
That one time
When you heart reacted to that video
The video on Instagram?
You didn't interact with anything I sent for
Maybe twenty videos, y'know
I know - I send too much
But finally I got one right
I wanna get it right again
With zero context pretty much
You'll get a lot of
Like just lots of
Tons of really
Martial arts reels - exhibitions
And jokes like that one
You know the one
You double tapped it
Pull it up
In your activity
Your likes
It's really funny
But not -
No I saw that too, but it's -
No, I think -
Maybe? Wait -
No, you should check your messages
Impatiently
Your messages, uh-huh

Better get to saying
While I’m able to say anything
I hope I’m saying something
That’s worth saying at all

All I’m trying to say is
I don’t think I’m gonna
Always have a mouth
I won’t always have a jaw
Or a tongue - for that matter

My esophagus is rotten
And my vocal folds are tattered
Bits of tissue flapping
Without issuing anything of interest
To those generally listening
To me
go on and on and on and on

There’s another minute wasted
I spent hours practicing to waste
Exactly in the way you’re wasting yours with me, now

By the time I finally make it to the end of
This mistakenly phrased sentiment
Regarding the nonsensical nature of language
You. might. hate. me.
I get the frustration
But all my time’s for wasting

It alleviates impatience
Saying one more saying
That they used to say
When we were just learning
How to say what we think

The aphorism applicable in any given situation
Has already been stated
So what’s with the expectation that
We be so **** creative?
After all - it’s ******* language

So to those that I’m communicating
Signifieds with signs
I beg that you bear with me
As I produce this diatribe

It’s not that everything must matter
That I utter, but I wonder
If it matters that I bothered to utter
Anything to someone other - than myself
But not this - ya know?

Not being the one to do the work
Of mowing my lawn every couple of weeks
Waking up or passing out to
Hands on a pushmower out my bedroom window
The landscapers scaping the land
At what feels like the crack of dawn
Waking up to a full compost bin
And a barren backyard
It’s a trip
Nothing inside is maintained
With the same aim to minimize clutter
And maximize space - open space
It’s like nothing is better to look at
Than thriving - expanding environments
Left to incorporate anything ready to grow
Refuse accepted as art as it piles up
Hoarding possibilities and information
And meaningful clutter
Gutting it isn’t just clean
It’s reductive

Human and insect
Beware:
Unwarranted touch is
Not species specific
Do not
******* touch me
As some kind of surprise

Spiders in earshot
Arachnids might just as well
Be ******* insects
Your critter legs can
Creepy-crawl all over but
Don’t ******* touch me
Don’t fixate hundreds of eyes on
Me, *****, you don’t know who you’re ******* with

For you to take any piece of me
Feels like a loss
So your life for my toe is winning
But not

*******
Not a problem
**** wit
And you’re gone

This one piece of art I made
Looked like a **** and *****
For more than a year
Before it was a woman
Though it was always a woman

I was so frustrated to have people
Celebrate this woman I saw
As a big ol’ **** and *****
But I could see it

Still, it is a woman
In the painting
Crazy to see
What my audience sees as
Apparent **** and *****
As such an obvious
And alluring
Example of womanhood

Somehow general procrastination
Made a ******* statement
And I’m so impressed
While I refuse
To think I chose this
In a moment of genius

**** me
Life happened
There it is

I remember nothing of consequence
This is by design
Leave things like memory
To people with an interest in
Nostalgia, regression, or revenge

My witness will not be their resource

I remember nothing of consequence
This is by design
My pain and yours ought also to be forgotten
Leave things like memory
To those prepared to wallow in misery

I prefer the promise of a brighter future

I remember nothing of consequence
I do not hurt
I cannot hurt
I have not -

Well, I do not know

I remember nothing of consequence
Will tomorrow be brighter?
Than what?
How am I to know?

the spider in the corner
by the ceiling
but not on the ceiling
was expected
but the one that
crawled from beneath
my desk drawers
only to linger
just between the
hidey-hole below him
and the whole -
well, the whole ******* desk
really got me
and I hope he hides
because I'm excitable
a skyward dash
might just as well
be a death sentence
but more power to him
if I'm unaware

I want things
But I always wish I had more money
Money buys things
I want things
I need money to get them
But I don’t really want money
I just want what I want
And to get what I want
I need -
Well really, I just need
What I want
There are other ways
To get things
That don’t involve money
But bartering requires
Objects of value to trade
And in lieu of
- I’m fancy -
In lieu of objects
Services could get me things
I want things
I have skills
That don’t make me money
But could get me things
And it’s getting redundant but
I want things
My services aren’t in demand
Not for financial gain
Or as trade so
There's my wishlist
A google doc
Outlining things hoped for
Including links and jpegs and
Descriptions of tattoos
And potential piercings
The motorcycle still weathering the elements
In my friend’s backyard
And the lessons and gear I need before
I could even ride the thing
Seems like a lot already but
I want things
As supported by the list
And as much as I want to not
Want to have money
I want things
And bartering requires
More I don’t have
That I want