after his lips
brazed mine, i understood what
churches meant to saints;
death and rebirth and homecoming and
ease. the artistry of our
flesh meeting flesh,
gentle grassroot heartbeats finding
heaven in the moles on our shoulders, our
inner thighs. he hums a hymn of becoming and i
join the chorus: a
kingdom of quiet wednesdays and
leaving forget-me-nots on my pillowcase to bloom.
murmurous, he sweetens my melancholy; our
naked bodies left bare to the seasons,
over and over again, unafraid. i
part my gracious fingers and
quilt for him a makeshift
rosebush beneath blue eyes and
summery glances. our
testimony is this:
underneath july starlight,
victory is found in the
warmth of our
xanthic chapel; a
yearlong love story left
zen in our delicate rapture

So.
You wanna be a grown up.
You wanna learn how the world works,
And what to do to make it like you.
Well kid, first things first
(And you're hearing it from a fellow kid)
(So don't take my word as gospel)
But the world won't bend to you.
It won't accommodate you.
It won't care.
It's unyielding,
And, debatably,
Unforgiving.
(Depressing, right?)
But, kid,
None of that'll matter.
You have to take a leap of faith.
Go forth and go to art school,
Go and join the military.
Cut all your hair off,
And wear what you **** well please.
Kiss who you want and when you want,
And flip off the "very fine people" at Charlottesville.
Verbally decimate your cheating ex,
And stand up for the bullied kid.
Rise up, shout,
Make sure your bruises and your battle scars are heard across the globe.
You'll make a difference.
After all, you don't have to be a Ghandi or a King to change the world.

You just gotta be you.

Searching for a Lost Jungle in the City

The city is mysterious, a grid
Of paths, most of them laid wonderfully straight
Upon which brave explorers roam, well-armed
Against the strange and hostile denizens

How curious to leave a jungle known
And go in search of a jungle not known
Predicated upon legends and yarns
Lost forever in a tangle of dreams

Among the still uncharted traffic lights
In a gridded city of mystery

Let's go after our dreams
which we lost one day we need them back it seems
go and gather all the stars
that will open upon a gate up in the sky
Which will lead us a brand new stage
Where we'll go and challenge our Past

Fight intense, be dynamic
Let's **, ** . don't panic

Losing makes us stronger than before
There will be no limits, no regrets
We'll keep fighting, we'll keep pushing onward
fly up high, be dynamic
Let's go!
Yeah!
punch and kick
oh, we're trembling with Adrenalin
brand new stories are about to begin

Spy Kids (the original)
A 5 dollar matinee with your mom
A box of Bunch A Crunch
Or a plastic sack of
Dip N Dots

Ninja Turtle walkie talkies
Flare denim cargo pants
Bobby Jack zip up hoodies
With blue Fla-Vor-Ice stains
And hide and seek

Now That’s What I Call Music
Volume 17
Playing from a 10in x 10in
Silver box TV
And high frequency noise
To accompany
Akon’s latest bass line

A razor scooter
The foot powered kind
When the Preacher’s Daughter
Has a shiny blue one with a motor

Weeping to Secondhand Serenade
Because your mom won’t let you have
A Wii
And your crush checked “no” on the
Note you gave them last week

Detention after pre algebra
From shooting a girl two seats over
At “close range”
With a hornet
And she was unfamiliar with the school wide
NO SNITCHIN’
policy

The words
Beastly
And epic
Used to describe what your
8th grade field trip is gonna be like

A phone call from your best friend
About finally finding Ben Franklin
In Tony Hawk’s Underground 2

Now
The OK symbol is your most used emoji
There are too many guys with long hair
And beards
White girls all have a weird obsession
With house plants
We’re all at least 50 thousand dollars  in debt
And I think we all
Just really hope Donald Trump
Isn’t our next president