Blatant,
Hold your cigarette upside down,
Blow the smoke out of your ears,
Wash the dirt out of the ground.

Wear your black bandana backwards,
Wear your heart upon your sleeve,
Keep your back straight at the table,
Before you're forced to leave.

Keep a knife in your knuckles,
Pressing intensely against your skin,
Keep your mind set on finding what you'll never find again,
Keep your head above the water,
Keep your eyes out of the ash,
Keep your frown as permanent as ever,
Keep on wearing this your mask.

Permission from no one to do nothing more than you do,
To  follow this path of nothingness that you so willingly would choose.

Aspirations have no meaning to you,
This world is not your lover,
You do not want a piece of it,
You'll just take your hibernative cover.

See a room filled with smoke,
Ash overseas the ground,
Dirt underneath your fingernails,
This dark fate that you have found.

You write poems to no one about nothing and keep candle light at bay,
Telling yourself that this is your life and that you're happy just this way.

Blackened under eyes  from a definitive lack of sleep,
But irises so bright that will never be defeat.

I love you my woeful lover,
Please look after yourself,
These cigarettes will **** you,
Before you **** yourself.

don't let others
write poetry about you
it'll start off with the stars in your eyes,
the strut in your walk,
the touch of your skin;

you'll read about the way you smile,
or the soft sent of rose your hair illuminates;
the way your voice flows like a sweet summer song,
or the way you never speak too little or too much.

don't let others write poetry about you
it'll start off with the stars in your eyes
but it'll always
end
in heartbreak.

twin gulls at the ready!
resting and fidgeting atop a rock outcropping
sister galactic spaceships from cowboy bebop
ancient cutters of the sky, cloud divers and dividers
efficiency is key, swiveling in crisp circumferences
feathered razorblade acrobats
mother nature’s surplus fish-killers
spend their days as lazy air athletes
never in the sea deeper than their beaks

from the cold road: houses visible (without wires)
entrenched in white snow: sherd forest archaeology.
car parked, bananas and bars packed, we hike.
a magnesium flame painting, freezing. a collage. a frenzy.
now, various floaters organized in armies playing war
or grazing, flamingo legs embalmed and crooked
and cooked, charred and glazed in a kiln, kin amid
the cold air, the ground is a movie screen.
the sun, sidelong, bruises our pilgrimage
and lays shadows in place to dissect and incise.
light like a plague, a pear flesh, a frozen swarm of locusts.
the forest opens, we reach aforementioned rural shantytown.
those houses when we parked and hiked to them
were not houses, they were barns, the windows, doors
all were painted in detail on pieces of plywood,
some big movie set gone missing (headline: found!
deceptive, chipping curtains hung out in the cold).

It's the color of your eyes and the
cold shoulder you're givin' me.

It's the sun dancing on the surface
as you keep dragging me deeper.

It's the sky as I lie on my back,
breath frozen in my lungs.

It's the cool of your whisper in my ear
and the chill as I feel it haunting me.

It's my breath fogging up the bathroom mirror
when I realize you're no longer beside me.

You've got convictions,
mumble poems to yourself,
lost at your front door.

You sip cigarettes
just like how your ex used to,
long and ferocious.

Still wearing his clothes,
but wearing the next guys shirt,
your heart on your sleeve.

It's all for non-sense,
we're all nihilists these days.
We all lack beliefs.

You have convictions;
a speech only you can hear.
Foot steps on concrete.

The material was stretched tight
deep furrows in the red and black
pulled across your shoulder blades so severely
but you were all soft edges.
The blunt edge of a 2B pencil
gently shadowing in the crease
where stomach met hip bones
and warm.
It was lovingly done.