I work on a river bank in the rainforest of an Amazon warehouse
where the torrential downpour of consumerism never subsides
filling the conveyor belt tributaries flowing through the industrial jungle
so commodity pisces can swim to my village at the basin—pack line 2
where the village folk run a benevolent catch and release program
providing bags and boxes for physical deflection and germ prevention
parts, presents, and propaganda all prudently properly packaged
finally released to follow the river to their eighteen wheel hearse
transporting them to a behemoth with an insatiable appetite
it gets a primitive thrill out of being a picky eater
throwing away anything it doesn't want
letting the vultures circle the trash pile
knowing its waste will attract new feeders
salmon swimming upstream thinking they'll become leviathans.

Definitions aren’t meant to fully convey
the meanings of words
in all their complexities and nuances

definitions operate as hints
to help us with a starting point
and as we become more familiar with terms
new functions and usages become apparent
until those words are added to our lexicon

like our conversations with one another
each conversation adding definition
to our understanding of the other’s existence.

I woke up again
which means I’m still running
and you aren’t here
which means you’re still running
so I wonder how to get you back
…my mind is still running
yet I can’t feel anymore
because my heart is still while you’re running
and I can’t think anymore
because my brain is still yet running
our race is over, you ran faster
but I’m still running
to catch up to you
to prove I’m not still running.

When people say “it’s ok to be different”
what they mean is “you have to be different”
in the ways they want you to be different
which are pretty similar to everyone else.

Just because you’re oblivious to something
doesn’t mean you’re above it.

Birds chirping                wind blowing
doors swing open                   floodgates of chaos
noise                  people                          beeh­ive buzzing
unease               uncertainty                                           unable
customers noisy as dishes clanging                                       in the back
focus                  obscured                             ­                  insecurity
offensive presence                                 apologetic demeanor
forgive me brother                  for I have sinned
optical trajectory                     floor
please                          thank you
hands                 pockets
forgive me.

I just thought you should know
it doesn’t matter if you stay or go
we live in a grave of souls
as slaves in tow
behind time and weather
like free floating feathers
slowly turning into leather
until we can float no more
like a boat with no shore
submerged underwater
with no dirge for the slaughter
we’re just purged to the bottom
as we swerve down this slalom
to the base of our column
where we find the mystery of death
before figuring out life
the whole time we’re in debt
until we see the light.