The moon amidst
the celebrations of stars
still in its proverbial stance
only the eye no fingers!

If there ever a moment of flower
let it be today the rose
in the tips of the fingers!

what can be is be
does not make sense a finger
pointing is not sun

Fly little birdie, fly!
Tell that ***** to get lost
He'll regret the day he saw your face
Or face the hand from which you came

ink flows out of my brain
through my blood vessels
to my soft fingertips.
my hands curl into fists
as I crumple a sheet of paper.
a corner lightly cuts my finger,
and the ink flows onto the page.

We may give them all of us,
                          but they are cheap,
                             ******* around like were
worth 5 cents and not the diamond that we gave them.

But they end up broke,
                                broke up,
                 broke as there on the street.

Clothes on the pavement.
And we were richer without them, no ******* around,
                          begging like were paupers.

But were prosperous without them,
                            there begging on the street.
The only thing they get is middle fingers,
             and your trash your love isn't even worth


the 2 cents to recycle...

i beg my lungs not to let go
as they hold in the million scents that make up
you

i wish your smell was like muscle memory
always coming back to the tips of my fingers

like those songs i still know how to play on the violin

The pendulum is a bull shark.
The hour of the savior is a pregnant bride's swan dive into the water.
The mighty mile is a figure 8 in the scoot of
non slop socks across the bare linoleum.
Blood and bright are the redness of the blanket.
divine terror at one hart beat per hour.
Finger nails green and black against a back drop
of the brightest, bluest eyes you've ever seen;
deep pools of liquid light that will shine when least expected.
And the obligation isn't one at all,
for when i breath in,
you breath out.
And when I gave consent 1000 years ago times 10-
you performed the exorcism under the shroud of my amnesia
and the spotted light from a crystal disco ball.
Shards of light moved upon the face of all the space between the stars.
My heart was in the highlands but now its in your hands.