Don't tell me
your sad too.

It hurts
Too much

I want you to be happy
I need you to be

If your sad too
I don't know how to go on

And I want you to continue
in life

While I stay
Here

In the
darkness.

Memories of
Broken things and
Past dreams of
Soap and seams,

And all of it seems
To teem with
A neutral shade of
Green

As I sat and
Plucked and preened
Someone, somewhere,
Started to sing,

With the most
Wonderful voice
Almost as if they
Hadn’t a choice…

Os odores retorcidos da pele
Perdem-se na ambiguidade
Das gônadas
Do meu pensamento

Respiro a mim mesmo
E regozijo da auto-hipnose
Cuidadosamente elaborada pela metade da última década

Olho-me no espelho e desejo ser Deus
Estóico
A observar o escorrer da tarde

Mas quando o suor frio me desperta
Sinto o calor que transforma percorrer minhas entranhas
Eu sou homem, sou mulher
Sou nada e sou o mundo.

Ser Deus não tem a mínima graça.

She draws closely.
Her nostrils flare; she senses me.
Too late to evade,
She's on the prowl, hunting me.

I convey a little interest,
and then a little lie,
in hopes to divert her current opinion;
to convince her of some other project to drink from.

While conversing, she made two good points before
and for a time, I did adore
her night-life sins,
like the antithesis
of her pale white skin.

One part yang, the other part yin.
Her total package perfectly zen.