Dress them fabulous!
Line their eyes black, dramatic;
Teach the young mermaids to walk in cigarettes
with eyes of starved predators (like they are)
unflinching at the flashes as they sashay
To let ***** sons imagine what’s under the bespoke.
Make their tresses wet for greater effects
Let my mermaids walk with pearl-choked necks!

Cut off the ducklings! Matrons like swans
--nymphs that glide on runway as if on ice
Have the witches lust for the sea green dress
Even if it makes them look like fat caterpillars
Make them forget that they’re no longer young
And that these girls are the newest brand of beautiful.
For the sequin-scales, have the crones battle with cheques.
Let my mermaids walk with pearl-choked necks!

There is a fundamental hardness
In this body, strapped between my legs.
Feminine energies from within warp
The fragile bounds of reality around me.
But what right do I have with *****
To summon the mother, call myself woman?
Every right.

My peoples told a tale closer to people
Still with connection to the heavens,
Roles for everyone. Gods did not deny
Their existence over time like some do.
But I deny the gods and dogmas and
I'm disenfranchised from my tribe
As a ghost in the machine in the very
Heart of western Christianity's
Destiny.

I get hard. It's not a problem. I cup my
******* in silent reminder with the
Dimmest hope of finding love and family.
Just as my elders, I live and speak at fires
Now write it, too, through ill, darkness in day.
All of the time I put into trying not to die,
It fashions me.

It fashions me.

I write the same words over and over telling
Stories of sadness and anger to outcast strangers.
I traded the ease of violence for pixel and ink,
So please take the words,
Unburden me.

I sit alone
speaking of
the ocean like
I know love
when I am
unaware

and in

Truth I haven't
put my eyes
on the coastal
horizon
purple sky
but in dream

for many years

and i

am endlessly addicted
to intensity
melancholy romance
and despair

will i

I wonder
ever find
my eyes in tune
with one who
understands
I crave pain

and pull the wounds

pull open my wounds

stay embedded

under nail

My grandpa, he got cancer from smoking
cigarettes. I set fire to the ends of bones, too.
The only male energy in my whole life,
and the best example of what I shouldn't do.
Emotionally abused my family,
no regrets, no subtle nod, or attempt at truth.
We set aside the split hairs in sunlight,
watched them fade while listening to the empty tune
of two hearts too lost and misunderstood.
One perfect look at conviction displaced and strewn.
I'd like to think I'm resistant to death's call,
but I'm well aware how the earth hurts,
how my home land endures political turf war.
Queer cannot be an exclusive concept.
Would you like to come lie beside me on my floor?
Drift between feelings, count specks on the ceiling?
I can't seem to find purpose in living, but I love,
and love life just enough. Do you love enough to meet nighttime
and sleep til the morning? Press your forehead to mine,
tell me of your scrapes and how many times.

Let me just hit this real quick, and I've got a question to ask you.

What the hell am I doing with my life?
I've seen a quarter century
easily fly by my head, right past my eyes. Credentials fill the whole of a short list, shorthand black ink on coffee stained white napkins. Got a paycheck, pay rent, I'm okay, then. Name it, it's likely I haven't done it. The thing is, I'm short on hobbies, too. When you got holes in your pockets, watch the pennies dropping. What's a penny for a little get-high? What's a penny for the internet when I don't have a vehicle? I couldn't pay for cheap unleaded. I pay for my shows and drink the TV. Deadbolt my door and get to thinking. Maybe it's all right if I imbibe just a little more. Maybe a few short words arranged in a line, will kiss the void if written right. Correctly.

The ground
Is burned
Rolls away
Life
Is short
So blaze

In darkness
My apartment
Lies lonely, low
Holding me
Blinds drawn
Sweating rust
Internally
Smothered
Thick dust
In darkness
My finger
Tips trace
Outlines
Of hearts
Xbox heating
PC heating
Waste in still water
Filling room
Want receding
Need retreating
Refuse of product
Parent made

How do I wager
My heart for cash?
Money get me out,
Imagine. How do I
Live or even leave,
When the past tucks
Me in, surrounds me?

Her shoulder *****
open to the sun
reveals the long road
to warmer sands,
where her heart beats
the waves in the ocean,
as the bass through boards
on her holy dance floor,
private, secluded.
Her trim of green
smells of a sweet
musk, patchouli, of
old cinnamon
I fill my lungs
I pretend that she's smoke,
invites and then guides
my journey toward her
sacred equator.

|||||||||||||||. . .

On the run, the run, on the run
There's a place to which I'd like to travel
But I've been there before THAT'S
HOW I GOT THIS WAY BY HAVING
HAPPINESS actualized and two heavy
hands to wipe it all away
Disintegrate, disintegrate
On the run, the run, on the run
Invitation is one thing -- I don't deserve
The want is with me the
heart is pure

This spirit, though
still broken from
whatever time before
today.