strait crazy

saintly mania raving.

new age jainist phasers
sang they praises
like
'hey mr bojangles,
go mangle up the angle,
shake shake shake the frame
& they'll thank you later.'

...sorry not today.

I'm feeling under the
earthquake weather.
wallowing wonder
following the devil
thru the desert
on great endeavors
to make it rain feathers
that sound like thunder.

famous as ever
nameless as heaven

to say the least
I'm slaying beasts that
came from me
in the first place.
this is lovehate.
lovehate lovehate.
& it's useless.

just lemme set the mood.

it's stupid
brutish beauty
mooing truly bluesy
marks & bruises
infused with martian
harmony incarnate,
caramelized carnage
set to soothing violent music.

broke record store cliché
faded to frustration feeding
a creaturely need for creation
& hellish lust for selfdestruction.

-nothing special-
just an absolute mess who
dilute the stress through allusion
allegory alliteration
hallucination delusion

***** it's a celebration.

tell the rest those losers
that got left I'm doing my best
even though I'm pretty upset
with how it's all panning out.

oh well I guess.

If I told you
my secrets
would you
hold them close?
Or would you
careless
scatter them wide?

I keep your secrets
please keep mine

Across the sky, dauntlessly, watching,
Shoes in cigarette stems while I
Wonder what flight's like.
Would I transition softly with the means?
Wingspan cutting resistance leaving me freedom
to fall, or better, to land when I see
earth worth tasting in the air around
mirrors in sanctuary.

Across the ground, dauntlessly, watching,
Shoes in cigarette stems while I
Observe my life like
Stone in the wind, steady as the leaves blow
Leading and closing the shows before and after
to end, like weather, and begin again
Forces to withstand time while I walk
sit, or lie where I go

What it looks like
What it is
Ends and means,
unanswered wishes
What it looks like
What it is
Ends and means
within reach will I take,
Palms wide open

Is there anyone there anymore?
For I have gone blind with things once said
and I cannot pass myself to see
clearly into the mist
with eyes wide open.

when i think of you
i feel life trapped.
when i think of you
i feel one hundred years of melancholy
lusting after the sun,
but being unable to look upwards
at it
because of how easily and effortlessly
it can burn a hole through the dark
that has become home.

when i think of you
the single time we met
i feel forgotten fields
the color of mint,
a body of love idling
left to rot,
lilies thrown in the dirt
because your hands have forgotten how to hold them,
the first page of a novel scanned
and then discarded,
like the obituary of an old friend
you could have called back
(but didn't).

but see, that's all just silly
because, truthfully, i know nothing (about you)
aside from your name;
aside from the ocean being too deep and wide and blue
to find comfort
or peace from the earth,
though the earth will not move
because she herself holds many fearless, crazed oceans
within her
that have yet to be named.

Singles in your area are dying to meet you.

You don't know them, they don't know you.

Knocking on your backdoor, peering in your windows.

They've surrounded your house.

Come out NOW.