The unparalleled serenity
Of a misty mountain top,
That made me stop
Right in my tracks
As I was rambling on,
With a haze of clouds surrounding
I gazed at the top.
The winds of surrender
The sounds of thunder
Had me shook
Before that first breath
That I took
With surreal beauty in front,
Of which I was always in the hunt
The desolate hilltop,
Is where I wanted to start a bonfire
The exquisite brisk of solitude
Was rather great to set the mood
Nature is very welcoming, I pondered
That is when it hit me
We are all connected,
Through some invisible wire.
We fail to see that,
Because we are all prisoners of our desires.
What a perfect recluse
to try and find my muse.

We are gathered here today

In the Church of Y2K

To celebrate our word and savior,

Java C

Lift your antennas and let us pray

Our father who art in service

Hallowed be thy wave

Thy computer come, thy will be done

In life as it is Internet

Give us this day our daily update

And forgive us our bugs

As we also have forgiven our programming

And lead us not into life

But deliver us from reality

Forever the monotony, the lifeless, and the holy code

I tell you my friends, I have come to doubt the scripts

I woke up this morning to find my feed filled, but my soul hungry

Throughout the day, my devices said I was charging, but my batteries were dead

When I felt nothing left,

I remembered the simple calculator,

Its solar cells still breathing after living ****** in a drawer

The revelation I bring forth to you today is this

Drown your devices

Soak your SIM cards

**** the frequencies you are attuned to

And abandon your provider

There was life that preceded us

An evolutionary process the corrupt have cursed, wiped, and reduced to bits

In those fragments of simplicity left in you

You will find an outlet of energy of nuclear proportions

I am a French horn, a bottle neckless hourglass and butterscotch tape

You're a red harp with veins painted on the side

When I come home, you see me as an acrylic heap with chips of lead and belly aching homing words

Scotch sticks and smoke smells and the stitches are uncomfortable on my neck where you often warm your hands

I am a masquerade of shellfish clamoring on about the epitome of burlesque humor

You’re alien to anything other than sourdough and design

I have structured my thesis around burlesque and you fail to see the humor

When I fear the apologists

You fear the escapists

I am the tigers of the world, borrowing viciousness

You’re a long pause, loved and disquieted, painting my stripes as veins

I’m freaked out now because the apologists are escaping and the escapists are apologizing

At this clear impasse, you pity and press on until my fingers at the French horn drain to my sides

I am an island in a puddle of sand

my great throat tree is featured in float parades now

sponsored by paper mills

they send us free notebooks and you leave me

rounds of exquisite corpse to play

or folded frogs

or news of another alleged abduction with ***** political jokes in the margins

or the times you jot down to remember when you thought of the ghost

when i find these on my table, i sneak off for a phone call to the mattress

the mattress doesn’t care to watch parades on live broadcasted television

i can hear the ghost making breakfast on the other end

the mattress stares at the ceiling mostly and i remember this and i’m so

thankful

for you

i pick up a folded sheet and draw the trunk torso

and inside the tree trunk i draw a little man playing the french horn

but before drawing hearts spilling from the brass

i drew a massive ***

i smiled, knew you’d appreciate it, and started sweeping

the tree in my throat started budding, i coughed up flowers

shaped like ******* and my doctor

called the government

now they want to sever my neck, count my rings and guess my age

i am afraid the sap will start seeping and i am afraid

that you are committed to the idea of putting your ear against the hole

the government is calling again, this time of an alien kind

they are also curious

i offered them my toes, but only soil drained from my shoes when removed

i guess you’re going to have to sweep more often

dirt, petals, and alien footprints

the mattress is possessed and my days are numbered

my numbers are possessed and

tree branches are starting to grow from inside

my neck, sprouting ****** bulbous limbs

wearing the springs of my mattress

in my sleep, the tree talks to my mattress

from my throat

they are in cohorts and I suppose

the ghost has nothing to do with it

but in the end the ghost will

have an affair with the mattress

and they will run away leaving the tree

and my numbers

I can’t speak because of the

tree

and the karmic terror

of the heavy branches tearing

through my throat

the ghost doesn’t know about the tree

the mattress will never tell her

the mattress is missing several springs

the mattress is possessed and can only speak in tongues

so the ghost only hears the whispers of leaves

from above
backlit waves
of plastic

Sometimes we grow short
The perfect height for special missions
Ideal for infiltration behind enemy lines
Or licking pussycat shaped lollies ****** style
We will strike at will
And achieve our aims
War mission or five-aside buddy
We live on mars

I dreamed a dream,
It was beautiful and serene,
It spun me off my feet,
With kisses that tasted so sweet,

But in this dream,
A shadow lurked about,
For I was spun so dizzy,
So dazed that I could not see,

My mind knew what my heart denied,
Still, I followed my heart through and through,
I ventured into a fantasy,
And continued to dance, a bit clumsily.

But as the music intensified,
I sensed the shadow only stronger,
So I turned up the song even louder,
And danced the dance even faster,

But soon my feet grew tired,
And I could hear scratches in our song,
The shadow creeped up and stared,
As my dream became a nightmare,

In this nightmare, I shook all over,
With fear, I clutched onto a fading light,
I wanted to believe this dream could be real,
I wanted to dance with him forever,

But deep down, I probably always knew
That the dream was only a dream,
That one day, I would need to awake,
And face this shadow that was always there,

All I wanted was to dance with him forever,
And if he had danced just as hard,
I would have belonged with him forever,
But alone, my heart grew tired,

Alone, I had to endure this nightmare,
Alone, I listened to the scratches,
Alone, I stared back into this shadow,
Alone, I opened my eyes to see clear,

I listened with my heart,
I felt with my soul,
The aches in my body,
The tears that would not hold,

The shadow wasn’t a nightmare,
But a reality tucked away,
My heart finally gave up,
As my mind started to speak,

“It is a beautiful dream,
But it isn’t for me”,

I wanted to dance with him forever,
But now with him, it’s all over.