In my absence
My mind has been doing back-flips,
back-spins and hand-springs.

They really should be called head-springs.'

Off a spring board I began vaulting.
Trying to spin, tumble, turn des pairs
of thoughts stuck in the landing area

Threw a little french in there for ya.

Grasping at hysteria asymmetrically with sanity
must be stronger than anxiety. Like a glass coat, it blankets me
however you can see to the core, translucent rings of a tree.

Walking the balance beam
between life and suicide sporadically.
Being pushed on both sides by a jet stream

Surviving is a pipe dream because we are all dying.

Once again I am on the floor. However,
I am implored to look forward by poetic neighbors.
All I gotta do is knock on their door and they'll gladly give me a cup of esprit de corps.

*More french, Au revoir

There's something about walking into an empty house
that puts my mind at peace.
Instead of a spouse,
there is a fan flowing on 1,2,3 beats.
Oscillating, turn-tabling,
air stagnant like frozen meat.
Simile.
smile,
Haha...it's supposed to be funny.
It was yummy 'till he
started Ralphing over the balcony.
But, his name is Anthony

I don't care.
He can't fall asleep here and
he won't be driving.
The music is cacophony
Turn the music down for the homie!

The silence is so sweet.
Stumbling into the back car seat.
Oh ef Wolf Ge
Stop lights switch with the beat. Obsolete
keys scratch the lock; He's in the hot seat
Walking a few blocks to his homecoming.

Everything I say can never be unique
Its all recycled and up-cycled from spit on the street.
Next to the pavement,
underneath
the asphalt,: black, ******, bleak

When I speak
There is nothing new to say.
Combined in a verse or tense
past or present
prosed in a way
obscure to rational thought. Cursed.
It's worse than worsening.

Suessing,
Sprucing up words
that were
left right
on the curb.
Busted,
Rusted
in god's stead, they trusted
dollars and bills.
Dollar bills
encrusted with lies

Idol-I-
zation.
Idol-me-nation.
Idolatry gives life
to puppets. It's really a Toy Story.

Love*:
laying bricks in a line
or a least a lie with N
monotony. Standing in line, at the end,
until the begin

*NEXT!

...ing.
Pretending, that was doing something.
Like a verb, perturbing, unsettling.
Cold air is causing nerve ending
stand

NEXT!

...up. Back of the neck rub
Trapped like a spider in a covered tub.
Seems wide till the world opens wide and there's a snub
from the passing yacht club as it crashes into the hub.
Now aren't you glad you got grub instead of a ticket

NEXT!

...stub? Chop and bop.
Hop on the bed, called Dr. Suess' pop.
Lets swap places. Straighten the tie, I am a flop
fop. Harvesting their crop of heads. Onomatopoeia plop

*NEXT

Heard sirens

Saw lights

Another body for California St.

Another day in Stockton.

Wait

I know him.

Them too

Hey, who died?

Tagging in the street

R.I.P T.M.F.B

Wait

...That's me...

No, it can't be
I just came from down the street
from the burrito truck
I had to get something to eat.
No onions . mild sauce, carne asada
Don't forget the limes, $4.25? sweet
I turned around and hit the beat
Just grey sweaters, blue jeans
and vans, not sneaks.
Occasionally tye-dye
if I'm feeling unique.
greeting this day I say
this is pretty neat
The train went by and bird are going
tweet tweet
This sauce is still hot but my sweater
keeps off the 84 degree heat
cause i'm sweating and cooling
These shoes look cool against the concrete
Hearing music slapping
I think it's E-40
Smoke rolling from the windows
An arm reaches out the backseat
**BANG