She's a clumsy feline,
A producer of selective shivers
In sheer long glares she gives
Untimely soul feelers.

Which creeps through my bones
Since the last days of winter,
A clutched wanter of deeds,
In an almost sold properties.

She dusts me with her coat
Golden as the sweet summer sun,
Brewing my sleepy dull senses
Like a good coffee and a bun.

For I have told her factually
That these eyes are mere blinded,
But the instincts are sharpened
From the good old days I've reminded.

Come home again, she invited,
To the capital of hope and romances.
As she metals in and moans in discreet,
Then blast me with a little furry treat.

I hear a sigh
Across the sky,
Filling the stars
And fulfilling life....
No sigh; it is my daughter
Waking from sleep.

my sadness is broken.  my mother sits beside me on the top step as I **** with the laces of shoes I’ve had on for hours.  I am trying to place myself in front of the woman who while holding a bowling ball asked me to **** my cigarette.  mom has been falling asleep in front of a tv turned on by a mind of its own.  I don’t want to be touched.  god for now belongs to the hand that went crooked and circled every date on this month’s calendar.  after eleven guesses I say jesus mom is he gay.  I don’t see how this will become me knowing all along.  my father is a man of many words he can’t pronounce without some stranger getting knocked up on the radio.  there’s nothing in the water, nothing in the air.  I get my people from the store and bring them to a carnival that exists because of food poisoning.  I think my belly button is a cigarette burn that makes me want kids.  I have a brother who will wet the bed well into his ninth year.  I include him here as the brother around for this.