.
   Beneath a mystic moon an ancient air—
         A melody only
            And lonely—
Is sung by her with moonshine eyes and shadowy hair.
   Across the seas of water and time
         She sings to me.
         Each line and rhyme
         I strangely recall.

         I fall asleep,
         Then wake and creep
   As nightshade over a garden wall;
   And there with all the flowers that bloom
   By moonlight—in the beautiful gloom—
   I start the long journey and hope to come back
   With some of the knowing I knew in the black.

  

Falling hurts and everyone knows.
Falling just hurts and that's the way it goes.
"When you fall down the only way is up,
Because falling down is quick and getting up is tough"
So I listened to those words as I fell on the concrete
And again when I stumbled and tripped; not discrete.
When I tried to fall asleep with no luck at all,
I realized getting up is hard, but not as hard as the fall.
So when I fell in love, I expected nothing but pain
So I was shocked when the falling felt like something to gain.
Because the 'fall', to me, felt like more like a 'fly'
And getting up isn't tough when you're already in the sky.

I didn't turn the faucet off
And thought about life flowing
How it can see me dripping hitting splashing and then going 
Only in the second there in all my glory showing 
But the beauty blends into the norm and life it gets on towing

I turned the faucet on
So I could hear it flow again
The weary travelers eyes focus on old light in a new friend
It's the same orange sort of glow comes after nightfalls had its end
And the drips remind me of the way this planet it's days sends

And we spin

Drip drip drip drip drip drip drip

And we spin, and we spin. 

I kick up the sawdust
So with the dirt I'd see the sun
And watch the pieces hang, floating silently and fun
Hoping knowing when they settle
This morning isn't the only one
Oh no, you all are just a bed for something only just begun

I start to make more sawdust
Building what? I've yet to know
But I know that if there's something there I cannot be a hole
So that in the same when I am buried may I not be cold 
And that sun will people sing of me, when my stories told

And we spin

Rip rip rip rip rip rip rip

And we spin, and we spin.

Let a little lonely thrill
careen from Ikea bolt
to Ikea ***** under the thin,
chipped legs of my folding chair.
Let it bolt across the
tabletop like a daddy long
legs when the kitchen light
flips on and hums into
a deflated, blinding brightness
at 3:26 am on a Wednesday in February.

Let a little lonely thrill
find its way past my loose
muscles and blooming skin-
let it melt down into my dankness
and start to sing so loud
that even my sweat radiates vibrato.

I want it to burrow from
ear canals to pastel brain
and flood my gums
after seeping through cheekbone
pores, hostile and sun-stained.

I need to feel it scream
its loud, grisly engine
to life from the parts of me that
might soon spoil.
I'm not moldy but you're
also not yet desperate. (Your checking
account can handle a few more
diner trips and coffee runs
and it's already Thursday.)
With any luck you can avoid
chewing on me entirely this week.

I am (silently, always silently)
begging
those manic hero spirits
that bounce
and rise across every pothole
of every road that my
tires didn't dodge.
(Whether by lack of skill
or lack of will is up for debate-)
I don't want the trails back.
What's the fun of tracing a failed
treasure hunt backwards?
It hurts more than it heals.
It illuminates exactly where each wrong turn
was made, ignored or aggressively denied.

I'll finish this road trip but
I know this whole playlist by heart.
I'm done with truck stop maps
that I can't fold correctly,
that I can't keep from tearing
along the creases.

I'm done with wine flavored Black
and Milds, wooden tip,
bought in boxes of five
or individually with dimes
and ripped dollar bills
stashed in the glove box,
kept there specifically
for the occasional urge to storm
any aspect of myself with concentrated
poison and my lungs volunteer.

I'm done with getting by on
metallic coffee four Splendas
and my white knuckles,
my raw nerves.

I've made it clear I can maintain this
grit that I've been dragging across
the Tri-State Area since last June,
but I can no longer ignore
the constant windburn
on my shoulders, chest
and forehead.
I need to spend some time with my back
to the express lane on the interstate.

I need a break.
I need to let someone else drive for a while.
I need to sit passenger side with
my hair down, bare feet hanging out
the window and lost in a daydream
that is so very far away.
I need to let the sun pour
wide and easy
into my open mouth,
janky limbs finally loose,
the words at the tip of my tongue
hitchhiking on the caress
of slicing traffic.

I'll keep my sunglasses on deep
into the night-
until each lightning bug has kissed me Hello,
Darling. Good Evening,
and it becomes hard to tell a yellow traffic light
from the moon.

I'll just coast. I'll know the salt in my mouth
is the day's hard work cooing at me;
that the sweat of my neck has been absorbed back
into me; stiffening my clothes and curling my hair,
until I'm back behind the too-tall steering wheel,
avoiding tolls and damp again.

Because lately I've been so tired.
I can't see straight to my neon-exhilarate.
I know a little time with my head lolling
again the seat, the window, you,
and a little sip of the landscape
taken for purely what it is
instead of what it's becoming-
will stretch my gut back where
it belongs instead of double knotted
to the tailpipe, waving along, air-drying.

Give me a few hours and I may
nearly forget the slow
burn of that ever-aching ghost light.
I think I'll close my eyes now-
If I focus  all of my energy toward
a mind and body learning
stillness, I can almost feel
a rhapsody at one thousand sun beams.
It's a new day in America,
it's a new day in my bones.

Settle into darkness, naturally, and take your cue from unoiled gears jolting forward only to lure you into false stability and lose velocity, stop suddenly, merge the definitions of stopping and falling by balancing the cart on the back of the tongue as sherbet dip dab’s your gums in 3…2…swallow down it drops FLASH past the oesophagus there’s your photo op show us some teeth show us some skin darlin’ begin to dissolve in stomach acid bile’s vile hold it down we will use force if necessary like handcuffs to a headboard excuse me sir may I see your ticket? Right you can’t sit here, you’re 3,4-methylenedioxymethamphphetamine, that’s upstairs you need to swing a left then straight up to the top floor not a bad view, you can’t miss it it’s got a hundred golden bulbs flashing hypothalamus, no we’re not really bothered about our environment take the lift elevate heart rate
                                           C-C-C-CRANK IT UP
to the cerebral cortex’s House of Mirrors home of distortion. What can we do for you sir? We like to pride ourselves in our ability to mess around with the wiring and stimulate receptors, all part of the Deluxe Mega Deal complete with moving walls, disco ball skin and a talking butterfly the size of a car crash for a limited time only whilst serotonin stocks last they fall as fast as the lubricated log flume SPLASH. Please remain seated until the end of the ride. Thrown out into the gift shop. £30 for a 12 hour come down. Come again soon.

trippin' to sleep after the departure of the ******* puppets & scarecrows from new depth of perception.
dreaming will into existence. The day of the dinosaurs has *** and gone. We are but Tourist on this trip, So lets just watch the flowers bloom. Floating on the mist of a cold summer moon. such horrors everywhere to discuss,Lets us breath in the beauty all around us.

Those very alluring eyes,
that sparkles even in sunlight
Those curly and shiny hair,
that i wish to run my fingers through
You're very handsome face,
that I can take to look at every seconds left in my life
I never believe then in love-at-first-sight,
But at the very moment I laid my eyes on you,
I started imagining my life with you
Seeing you for the first time,
Is the best 5 minutes of my life
I believe that we are destined to see each other again.


.