Tears burn away like flowers –
Weeds tested by the flames; it’s
Euthanasia, as we put down your regrets
Spelling errors; the mistakes to your life story

We’ve stuck them up across on these walls,
Like magazine cut-outs, those many pictures
In a mind’s room – all the things a child inspired
To be; sourced drawings from thoughts, hopes
And dreams; blood and tears as ink

Tears burn away like flowers –
Digging for them with a ***; it’s
Cognitive, thinking about your very past
Moulding; what hurt us then, shapes us now

My face is moulding clay; heated up for use.

Accentuated notes flowing slowly as tears down a motionless face perplexing the spirit.
Impossible to comprehend even when it is expressed nonverbally the agony of losing in a year and soon in the other, one parent and then another, more precisely after his mother, his father.

Always listening...
Buckethead we can truly feel you,
yet never fully understand you.

cracks me up
this erroneous error message,
looks at me and states authoritatively
nuh-uh, buddy, “it ain’t you you babe,
it ain’t you we looking for babe”

makes me crazy crying
copiously betw snorting fits of
eloquent derision

why oh why

is it daily savings time prematurely
(immaturely) aging me,
be it advancing decrepitude
or just the AI’s sullen attitude?

be it a secret messaging that my
mother’s slow descent into
senility, loss of speech is now me-
visible to the all seeing eyes on
a dollar bill, & or the iPhone genie?

this erroneous messaging appears
with an irregularity regular, just
enough to make me think that

this
       is
           not
                  accidental

come to nyC,
come me to see,
need an independent  
judgement  summary
please
before the winter pale overcomes my
poetic resistance and they park me
in the backyard, where I can sit yet,
studying for multiple hours
the river-fed bay on its way
to the vastness of the Atlantic
Ocean, where the water will combine.
all cells of each of our selected
those chosen body’s of water,
bodies now interring,
while populating
intermingling
taking stingling diatoms from
of each, they will kiss, greet, each other,
with the clarity of recognition that our
poetry has already bonded us in ways that are irrefutable, been coming long time
geological formations new and old,
still forces unstoppable foreseeing
every, every ever

One Friday evening working from home I was tired
I hadn't been sleeping too well of late
So I said I'm going to finish up now and go to bed for a few hours, get some rest
So, I get a few hours sleep and then I awake at about half eleven/ twelve a clock, around midnight
I get myself something to eat, then I start watching some movie
When the movie's over I say I better go off to bed again, maybe read for awhile
It's well after two  
So I unplug all the plugs, brush my teeth, turn off all the lights
Then I remember there's a small window, a high up window out front that needs to be closed, I always leave it open to air the room
So I go out to the front porch to close the window
Now there's a hotel across the road from me, it holds dances and weddings and other functions on Fridays and Saturdays
Sometimes late at night you can hear voices and laughter on the road
So when I go out to my porch to close the window I suddenly stop dead in my tracks
There's a shadowy figure walking around at the front of my house
A prowler
I can see him walking up to my garage door to see if it's open
Luckily I have it tied...it's closed
Then he walks over to the other side of the house, there's a side door there
He tries the side door but it too is locked, so he can't get around the back of the house
So he starts going back and forth across the front of the house, it's almost like as if he's trying to think of another way of breaking in
And I'm just...I'm just standing there watching him, in the dark, betwixt the shadows and the moonlight
Just a face in the dark...like a disembodied face staring back at him, watching him
Y'know there's nothing more creepy than watching someone trying to find a way to break into your own house
Now I'm a bit concerned 'cos my car is parked at the front of the house
I'd left it out 'cos I needed to go somewhere the next day
I'm afraid he might start interfering with my car
In which case I know I'll have to intervene, I'll have to confront him
Tell him to '**** off'
Suddenly as he's going back and forth, suddenly just then he stops and I'll never forget it
His head it just turns real real slow like, almost unnatural
And he looks in the window... looks in directly at me, it's like he's seen me for the first time
And it's like he can hardly believe it
He moves a step forward just to make sure
Then it's like...it's like he realises he's been caught
Whereas he thought he was looking into some dark dead looking house
Suddenly now there's...there's this face looking right back at him...watching him
As if its reading his thoughts...as if...as if it already knows his thoughts.

And I'm half afraid, 'cos it's like I've been discovered too

Thankfully...thankfully he takes off.

i got my picture back today

and even though i just sat quietly
in a corner of my room
with the blinds shut
and the door locked,
even though i stared at the ceiling,
breathing in and out, in and out,
and came to terms with it,
even though i convinced myself i'd be okay,

somehow my skin looks ready to be checked out,
my eyes are two overfilling ponds,
somehow my voice chokes and croaks,
somehow my fingers have stained the carpet

and there's this girl in my head
and she's screaming
and i would give anything to make her stop
stop digging at her cells
stop burrowing into her DNA
stop exhuming her genes

i will always stay this way,
i wish i could tell her.
i will always stay this way,
and it's pointless to think otherwise.