like an m and m
in a party game jar
explicitly
crammed in
the ping of the muffled voices of the outlanders
and the amplified
clang of the screams
as one chocolate morsel
shuffles against the next
BLUE!!
YELLOW
RED
BROWN!!!!!
BLUE
RED!
we all know there
ain’t anymore elbow room
to go around
and we all know
what’ll happen
once the faces outside
stop squinting
we have to
take a
sta--YELLOW!

I wake up sometimes
and frantic the clutter
I shove and tuck in
all edges shaming me
I wake up sometimes
and see the curtains
blow dust in the wind
all thoughts I’ve spent
shaming me
I wake up and dream
of the unfettered sheen
of a well made bed

drenched
and slapped on the solid
hunch of a man
colors eking out
of each pore
spilling in crooked
zig zag lines
along his  
contours

the sun will
evaporate my stain

the wind will push me off this edge

right back down
on the solid
hunch of a man
colors eking out

These myths of enlightenment offend me


I traipse around the
dull
rhythm that has slithered in
Like I’m trapping prey
prey I can’t tell if it’s poison
or swallow hole delicious
whittled spears
dragged nets
traps in trees
Waited months
And i squeezed
I can feel the heartbeat
In its neck

These myths of enlightenment offend me

I’ve lured this beast
grinning
bullet wound still bleeding out
My dead bodies
hanging tethered
Trigger ready,

These myths of enlightenment offend me

Transcendence is suicide

face planted against the rushing wind
of our spinning circle
reactions in a reaction
cluttering the ether
The milky detritus
Of our fathers and mothers
and all the things they spent
plummeting through space