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

water droplets mean
nothing to windshield wipers
one swipe and they're gone

are streetlamps heaven or hell?
I walked beneath dozens tonight and each held
maybe hundreds of moths. assorted insects
found the light they sought after and died
from the intensity of its glow.
is it heaven they found or hell?
it consumed them. it was everything they could hope for,
and it consumed them. brilliant lights burning
above them gave them hope of a better place.
are they in a better place?
I can't help but wonder. they don't look happy,
but nothing looks happy
when it's trapped in a cage,
burning up bit by bit.

drip drops through my mind
freezing and thawing to
expand my perception

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

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 hope someday
to be the trees
I saw just out the window

they'd grown together
twisted fondly
trunk caressing trunk
branches tangled in each other
making it impossible
to know which branch
came from which tree

I knew there were two
separate trees
but they were one

they were dependent
on the same resources
their food and water
came from the
same ground
they were rooted
in the same foundation
each needed the other
to stay standing
so they supported each other

and while they weren't
the largest
or even the most beautiful
trees around
they were strong enough
to serve their purpose

and it was obvious
that they would be there
at least a little while longer

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?

I pressed my head against your chest
To listen to the compression

                                           Papillary muscles
                                           Beating at irregular tempos

                                                         ­                  Papillary muscles
                                                         ­                  Beating at irregular tempos

I pressed my head against your chest
Your heart beat out a confession

                                           Keeping up with you is
                                           Both exciting and exhausting

                                                     ­                   Keeping up with you is
                                                              ­          Both exciting and exhausting

                                                     ­                                                              Hey!

                                           But I don’t want to
                                           Slow things down

                                                           ­                                     As if you could


Arrhythmia
When things just don’t line up

                                           Now the blood’s begun to rush
                                           But you’re unavailable

What’s coming next for us

   Can’t being friends                                                   Being friends can’t        

                                           Be enough

                                                         ­                                       Well it has to be

Do you feel the strength?
In your birdlike chest and your bloated stomach?
The urge to glut yourself on beer and vittles.

Chips and guacamole.
*******. This is delicious.

But what should we do - Eat
Or should we abstain in
The middle of the night?

I’ve had a few beers since
The couple margaritas,
But I have no chance stopping
‘Til the shows have ended.

There’s more I need to know.

sleeping while there's sun
makes me feel like a vampire
waiting for nightfall

press your hand in mine
tight enough to feel you there
loose enough to breathe

there once was a turtle named Otto
who called all the Mexicans "vato"
but now he's in heaven
choir turtle eleven
with a rather nice little vibrato

Saturday mornings growing up
my mother made me clean the bathroom

. windex . bleach
. scrub brush . rags
. mop . bucket . broom . dustpan
. lots of paper towels

she insisted I clean the bathroom
every Saturday morning
before I did anything else
with absolutely no chance of an allowance
she paid me plenty she said

. shelter . food . clothing
. television . internet . video games
. books . some sort of education

not to mention

. life

“do it because you love me”

so waking up Saturday
meant cleaning the bathroom

it meant my hands reeked of chemicals
while my friends enjoyed games I couldn't join
it meant I missed the best of all
the cartoons everyone else watched
it meant I didn’t feel like loving my mother

for years I begrudgingly

. scrubbed . wiped . cleaned

that bathroom
until it sparkled - until it shined
like the top of the Chrysler building

. sink . mirror
. toilet . tub
. floor

all of it spotless
love you mom

then in college
there's this woman that I'm living with
this woman that provides me with

. shelter . food . clothing
. television . internet . etc.

and she makes me feel alive
so I clean her bathroom
and when she asks me, “why?”
all I can think to say is

“I did it because I love you”

and it feels like that's the truth

inside me are organs
inside my cells are organelles
inside me are organelles
they are mine
they are me

they are composed of atoms
they are composed of protons, neutrons, electrons
protons are mine
they are me
neutrons are mine
they are me
electrons are mine
they too are me
electrons and mitochondria and kidneys
are me
I am me

bone comprises skeleton
marrow comprises bone
bone and skeleton are me
marrow too is me
I feel this in my self
I feel this in my bones
bone feels this in my marrow
bone and I share marrow

cowboys without
mustaches are just dusty
illiterates. yeehaw!

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

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?

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

down from the sky
came Jesus Christ
robed in glory
framed in all that
is holy
holy and unholy
****
corruption of society
cried for forgiveness
take us to your glory
let us in your *****
love us
like you love your own
oh God
we are hopeless
desperate
and depraved
wicked sinners
as you have called
for us to be
who are we to live
in righteousness?
that is not our place
our place is in Hell

down from the sky
in a blaze of glory
came Jesus Christ
our Lord and Saviour
with flaming sword
and no forgiveness
a burning hatred
for a wicked world
condemning them
to eternal damnation
in a lake of fire
as they screamed
take us
oh God
into your *****
forgive us our sins
and accept our
adoration
inspired by fear
as it may be
and all went black
and darkness prevailed
but for the light
of the fury of Christ
as we
a lost and dying world
desiring whatever
redemption
we thought he had to offer us
were destroyed
were cast away
and forgotten

down from the sky
came Jesus Christ
with hope and love
and grace and forgiveness
for those
he had predestined
to accept his hope and love
and grace and forgiveness
and he
watched
and he laughed
and he let the world
burn

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

Drugs are ******* great man
Do another line
Or take a hit
Or take a sip of something
There’s enough available to us
That’s legal - or not
That freaking out is overkill

To those availing themselves
Of chewables or smokeables
Or pills or anything prescribed
By labcoat-wearing, overeducated
Pharmaceutical-reps
Masquerading as the answer
That you found yourself
By diving into forums on the web
Your doctor both agrees with
And now disavows

They can’t allow
This kind of undermining
Of the underpinning
Of their industry
And of what’s keeping people healthy

Even only as a byproduct
Of confirmation bias
They cannot acknowledge
If we want to be respected
In this new environment

In which our personal experience
Is more true than the objective
Information taught to more than like
One million doctors

We were
People of another caliber
Not so
Concerned with things like college algebra
Still we
Had to pass our finals so we’d
Meet up
For about an hour to study
But when I got to your place
It was the look on your face
The only question I got to
Was

Where should I put
My hands on you
Where should I put
My hands on you

We went
Out to grab a cup of coffee
And we
Talked about our thoughts on philosophy
I was
Partial to more modern theory
But you
Still seemed to be hung up on Socrates
But as you waved your arms around
Your point was proven and I found
I ought to ask you what to do
So

Where should I put
My hands on you
Where should I put
My hands on 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

it would be nice to
be French - no one would expect
you to be friendly

the culmination
of passion - disappointment
and ***-stained bedding

you can do that whenever you want to
and you probably will
if just to prove you can

activities you love are still worth loving
and you realize that
your appreciation of
ice cream and literature
while shared with her
is uniquely yours

separate from her and your love for her

Instead of ******* her I ****** my hand
While the time she said I’m cute
Played on a loop in my head
I didn’t think it’d be appropriate
If I just started groping her
It’s more like I forgot how to ask
Do you want -
To do it!
We're not romantically involved
I hardly know her at all
Are things too casual for casual ***?

I’m not sure if I can do it for real
Like I can do in my head
So I’ll just stay there instead
Where we’ll experience some pleasurable
Moments at my leisure
Is it possible she could remember
Things I pretend?

I’m just saying
If she’s in front of you
Then you should try making moves
On her
Instead of yourself
You’ve got a lot more
Going for you
Than you might think
So you’ve gotta
Do what you can
Not to feel this anxiety

And go
Just go
Go and put yourself out there

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

open air is cold
youthful love embraced for heat
hearts are not quite warm

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

Don’t lose yourself to the way that
You think that they want you
I keep being people that are unlike
The ones that were once me
And I’m not made that happy
By things, fun, or people
In a couple rotations
I’ve lost myself
And become something new
To become something new again

When they come back around
And you know they’ll come around
Will they see me standing there
Or will I be on the move
There’s a circle to run in
But I can’t just keep running
When the way gets familiar
And I stop looking cool
I have to change
That’s okay. That’s okay I guess
I’m reborn in new action
I’ll just do something else

You have to live with it
Whatever you do
Well that’s life for you
You have to handle it
You’re being destroyed
By the things you choose to
Make decisions for you
But it’s not who you are
No, you don’t have to be
What you’re doing today

I  just can’t stay still
And I can’t keep pace
Just to spiral
I have to change

I love that Jewish ****
I know it’s better than whatever ****
That you’ve been gettin’
It’s Israeli and it’s rarely being used *****?
Just look at you *****
You spent an hour in the shower
Feeling useless
Until you had the realization
That the water’s lubrication’s
Even worse than when you use spit

You know, I’m all about the Benjamins
But I’m chilling on the Abrahams

That’s a little too hasidic
For a person who’s obsessively
Collecting all the circumcised
Erections in this city

‘Cause he’s orthodox, get it?

We've got a long way to go to knowing one another
And after every second something has changed
Whether the people you cared for are who you’re still there for, or not
My faith in you comes from who you are with me

I’ll spend my time with you indefinitely
I want to go back through all the things
That I tell people I love
And when I share them with you
You might know me better
At least a little bit more than before
At least a little bit more than before

I’m not secure in how I say who I am so
Your judgment of my character’s important to me
We’ll watch some television made for children of our generation
Despite our dedication, we’re only as mature as our shows
I love you and these, so here you go
I love you and these, so here you go

I’m so enamored with your passion for living, it’s like I
Didn’t know what living was before you explained
But now I’ve got a couple hobbies
Thank you for the suggestion
You probably could take some credit
But you're not here to claim
Anything
Any part of who I am today

I get to say which part of you stays up inside of my head
I get to say which part of you stays up inside of my head
I get to say which part of you stays up inside of my head
And what I share with my friends

I’ll spend my time with you indefinitely
I want to go back through all the things
That I tell people I love
And when I share them with you
You might know me better
At least a little bit more than before
At least a little bit more than before

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

All my **** got repossessed
By an aardvark in a leather vest
That he swears is only vinyl
But won’t tell me where to buy my own

He says if I can go six months
With no late payments
On my credit card statements
He’ll let the name slip

I’ve got to get my **** together
Or this cruelty-free vegan sleeveless pleather
Statement piece might slip away from me

So, these days, I’m
Dedicated to paying
This debt I’ve accumulated
Despite the social detriment
Withdrawal and depressive episodes
All in the name of
Improving my credit score

Until when?
The day comes up
That I’ve paid for the stuff
That I bought without paying for
I’m practically stable
By now

The aardvark from the IRS
Reappears as my remaining debt and interest
Dwindles into a less pressing account
For the withholding public servant
Who’s about to grant me access
To the privileged information
I’ve been craving for months

It was an Etsy shop
And they’re all sold out

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?

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

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

I was looking for words
on the day that you left me
I'd been looking for words
for a while by then
and I guess you expected
that saying you'd leave me
would spark some epiphany

but you left me exactly the way
that I was
speechless
and searching for words
that would fix everything but
nothing was perfect enough

and hours
to days
to weeks of thinking it over
left me standing there
speechless
with nothing to say to you

but that was the reason
you left in the first place
I couldn't stick *******
two words on a line

I couldn't speak
love
into existence
I couldn't speak
passion
I couldn't feel
life

and when words finally came
they came
one
at
a
time
first came
****
and then
*******
I guess two was enough

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

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

love everlasting
everfeeling. unending
a burning desire
a passion. heated
if only it lasted
but wasted instead
because we were silent
in love. yet. so lost
we fight. we forget
nevertheless
we die

metaphors are
rubber bands
we may extend them
as much as we like
we may shoot them
at our classmates
we may impress
our professors
with the shapes
we can contort
them into
but the more
we extend them
the more we
wear them out
and its very possible
that with all of our
stretching and extending
we could render
our metaphors
useless
*snap

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

to live a life so brief as this
and beg for less
is to acknowledge
that life must be beautiful
or else death take its place
rendering the body immaterial
the soul inconsequential
only the circumstances remaining
to form a memory
of our brow-beaten brothers
who felt for so long and hard
that their passionate resistance
of oppression
became nothing

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.

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

smiles fade
into empty couch
cushions
late nights
talking about
the future
reduced to
the idea
that change
is only
natural
gum wrappers
litter the floor

     "would you like
      a piece?"

perhaps
but offers
made on winter
nights hold
no
relevance
now the sun
exists
burning my eyes
as I roll off
the couch
the impression
of that
emptiness
clinging to
half of
my face

oh darling
it is you who cries too often
and leaves nothing inside herself
it is you who purges
sweat
and blood
and *****
to the gods of self and society
sweat and blood and *****
to void and nothingness

grinning insanity of grief
cries to know and chooses not to
it is pain that you know
and pain that won’t release you

do not forget the heat of what fills your *******
your arms
your genitals
your sweat is burning
your blood is burning
***** burning
it is hell inside

empty your hell to me my love
empty your hot and heavy
loaded words and baggage
neverending flow of **** and ****
neverendingneverending
you are full of fire
and the molten gods of self-sacrifice
refuse to relinquish you
to holy happiness

empty your hell to me my love
I will cool your brow
with lips and hands and water
I will wash you in my love
I will know you with new love
I will fill you with
this serenity
that you can
empty
into
me

cool the fires of fear
and pain and loss and betrayal
with new fires of passion
that are exuberant acts of ecstasy
we are human after all
- only human
and holy holy holy to each other

this is what we are
beings filled with fire
molten images craved
even worshipped
created by gods
to serve as successors
we must stitch ourselves together
and quench this hell with heaven
a reclamation of scars
and scar tissues
we may build our own city
entirely of gold