she rests
on the earth

naked and
raw

white skin
like snow

she closes
her eyes

holding her
hands across

her chest

her hair
spreads

into the
dry grass

her lips
part as

she whispers
prayers

dreaming
she is a

flame

today was cold
I thought I saw

a flake on my
windshield

one of those
unique things

that nature creates
designing each one

to be itself

do they ever
compare themselves

to each other

do they ever think
they are ugly

compared to one another

do they ever want
to be just like the

other

or do they relish
in their difference

the way we
admire their

uniqueness and
individuality

the days changed
subtly

and then one day it
was different

not one thing
everything was

different

as if time
separated

and I was imbalanced

and I fell into
one of the cracks

and in the crack
there was no flower

to pick

nothing to hold
onto

and I landed in
a bed with

the humans in white
asking me if I was real

and then

one day out of
nowhere

I forgot to think

it was so beautiful
that day

he is a silly man

in his past life
when he spoke

it happened

but that was a
simpler life

with problems
that could be

fixed by others
just by wishing it so

in this life
problems are much

more complex

and people around him
are not paid by him

do not work for him
may not believe in him

are not controlled by him

in this life just
because he says it

doesn’t make it so
he has to work

for it and

I don’t think the
silly man

likes to work
or knows how

rising from the rocks
part spirit or smoke

she is not an illusion
she is an appearance

an almost transparent
otherworldly creature

she holds flames
tightly to her chest

as if they came
from her

as if they are part
of her

she looks scared
not knowing what

comes next
what comes of her

appearance in this
strange world

she dreamed of a
clean and simple world

where she could spread
her soft pink wings

letting a warm breeze
whisk her away

so she floats along
the planet watching

the wildflowers grow
where they please

and they are often pleased

his words
couldn’t dance

they stumbled
one over the other

they had no
cadence

they had no
rhythm

the mind
like the body

moves to
a flow

and truth
flows

lies are
nervous

and have
no balance

on a flat surface
her long stem

is singular
reaching up

to a deep cup
half-filled

or half-empty

either way
it’s not for long

the mystery
of our bodies

from one day
to the next

the dullness
of life

aches inside
out

changing
places

moving

from one bone
to another

never sitting
still long

enough to heal

pulled her
from peace

to a place
of violence

she served
her time

faithfully

and gave
her life

honorably

but it wasn’t
enough for them

they couldn’t
live without her

convinced they
were doing good

for her

instead they
brought her back

for them
and broke her heart

I love her sharp tongue
especially when it cuts me

she makes my brain hurt
working so hard to keep up

I am scared to ask her questions
but the fear energizes me

I don’t just want to keep up
I want to pass her

but she is not a dictionary
and she is not an encyclopedia

she is the internet
a network that never

stops learning
and I am merely mortal

don’t move.  the pieces.  they were placed.  so perfectly.  each one.  has a purpose.  and if everything.  goes as planned.  I can’t lose.  if you just.  do as I.  think.  you will do.  it will all.  work out.  and I will win.

isn’t life grand.

love is young
and fast

sugar ray’s
punch in

the gut
knocks wind

out

you can’t
breathe

you can’t
think

you don’t
want to fall

but your
legs give

out

and before
you know it

you are
counted out

and she is
declared the

victor

in the land
of mist

we are all lost
holding hands

for warmth
we don’t know

each other
and we don’t

need to
it is enough

to be together
in the land

of mist

the universe is filled
with messages

the sounds of wonder
a reaching for something

else

a search for connection
a language we understand

attempts to communicate
with other worlds

we all live in other worlds
we are all aliens

floating alone in this space
unidentified lonely objects

she is a young
soul on fire

her mouth emits
a smoky voice

with penetrating
words and spaces

that burrow deep

her face is a
land of freckles

remnants of the sun

I have collected
all the pieces

sewed them
back together

I can almost
tell what it was

it beats
sends blood

to most places
but it doesn’t

feel the same
something is

missing

something that
was bigger than

its parts

the smell
of sweat

lingers

like a
panther

extinguishing
light

penetrating
night

another
victim­

succumbs
to desire

the deadly
sweet

the ever
lasting

there are
no drugs

strong as
this addiction

people fight
over you but

I like to think
of you as

a place to crash

truth is immortal
it can be buried

but it will not die
you are mortal

so you may not
have to face truth

but your history
will be changed

when truth rises
from your grave

the nuts in
my head

are cracked
the squirrels

are feeding
getting fat

on the
smorgasbord

she plays with
the word knife

makes it a girl

makes it cut
the others words

straight cuts
clean cuts

makes them bleed
their ink

down the paper

changes their
meaning

so they make
no sense

so she is the
only word you

can recognize

the cost of
paper

we print

to solve
all our

problems

numbers
add up

but we can’t
count

that high

we don’t have
enough

fingers or toes
to pay

our debt

intelligent
gents

mastering
language

and sounds

perfectly
measured

mixing just
the right

ingredients
every time

we experiment
with sounds

drumming on
our shells

trying to reach
the deep place

detached
lovers ache

and moan
whether

together or
alone

we use the
sharpest tool

in the shed
to cut out

our hearts
we don’t

use them anyway

we are brains
in a jar of vinegar

on a shelf
in the garage

I am.  trying to decipher.  the source of everything.  around me.  but.

all I could think.  is.  I could not think.  all these pieces.  nothing fit.  every shape.  was misshapen.  or warped.  how could I come.  to know.  anything.  

so I hibernate.  my brain.  let it rest.  no input.  no output.  let everything.  settle.  into place.  

I hope.  this works.

certainty is a necessary evil.

it helps us act.
but it is not real.

or true.

because you.
are certain.

it is true.
because.

it is true.

always be careful.
around those who.

are certain.

six feet.  apart.  
six feet.  under.  

we live in
what remains

of life

carrying two
yardsticks

as a measure
of ourselves

air hugs and
kisses

to everyone

I know you
from your eyes

I dream of a desert
the cold nights

when life hides
and death is

exposed as needy
pleading for

satisfaction

the history of
christianity

is buried in a desert

the memory of
the night death

was found wanting

little one dreaming
her mind is a

phenomenon

her heart is a
balloon

she runs wild
against the wind

and always wins

she just learned
to whistle

with her lips

now she thinks she
is a birdie

I hope she learns
to fly

I feel gentle in the dark
the overhead light fades

my heart race is over

figments swing dance
shape shifting

like a dream

I feel gentle in the dark
everything is quiet

even the predators

don’t make a sound
as they pounce

they improvise
sounds together

love rattles
create a mystery

they learn more
about each other

in their movements
playing off each

other

letting what comes
next happen

without ever
occurring to them

a place called nowhere

creatures looking
for sin gather

circle each other
smell each other
taste each other

the air is thick with sound
and tight leather wears itself

the little birds are quiet
they perch on

their stools

wanting action
too scared to act

they move as if
they want to dance

they are trapped in
their own heads

some of the creatures
find what they are looking for

others leave alone
the little birds pick

up the scraps

her body is
a rubber band

stretched beyond

her voice is
a snake

quietly

biting my lips
injecting

poison into
my veins

paralyzing me

I cannot speak
she has made me

so I do not want
anymore

I only need more

science can explain it
but I don’t want to know

I imagine I am

drowning in the
mystical blue waves

my spirit floating
like a mist

haunting lonely sailors
looking for a reason

to care

she is in pain
the quiet kind

there are no
cuts or scars

there are no
lumps or bruises

there are no
screams or tears

nothing is broken
nothing ever heals

I am a shadow
I am a crow

you create
my nights

when longing
for you

is my occupation
my eyes close

but I do not dream
I obsess

strangling any
other thought

that enters me so

there is one thing
left in this world

we connect
in a circle

dancing round
and round

hands locked tight
knuckles white

we sweat through
our skin

creating a new sin

sprayed by her water
scared by coronavirus
I still say bless you

he drank to
disinfect his soul

he felt corrupt
hearing voices

from the past
generations of

drink calling
to him

zombies on
the same path

dead before
they were alive

killing the spirit
of all who

loved them

late at night
consciousness abates

the pen enters me
injecting black ink

becoming my blood
I spit black words

staining paper
with my soul

everything that is me
exposed to your eyes

I want you to know me
intuitively

so you never
have to

question me again

on the pier
a morning walk

where nothing
is clear

from the first
I feel at home

no one can really
see me

I cannot really
see you

something can be
anything

someone can be
anyone

the place I
dream of

belonging

a battle between
dark and light

people with weight
trying to

become enlightened

music with meaning
creates a background

where everything aches

voices dance and
bodies bend

chaos is choreographed
and life and death

tell their own stories
immortality stays young

by feeding on
generations of

disillusioned youth
even the sun has

dark spots that
can’t be explained

I write in pieces
and parts

they are never
meant to be

finished

complete but
not finished

they are meant
to be

components of
a larger story

which become
components of

a larger story

until…eventually

you get it

there is no end
to this story

we just tear it

apart and start
all over

she sings in
my language

breathes in pain

and swirls it
around inside her

until it creates sparks

spitting out fire
and flames

I burn in
her words

becoming a pile
of ash then

rise again with
a new level

of understanding

angels sit on
the head of a pin

waiting to be counted
they are obedient

they have not moved
they do not want

to create confusion
they do not want

to make you
start over

they are not infinite
they have a number

we just don’t have
the patience

to do the work

the invisible
wave of misery

enters suddenly

it gets stuck and
bounces around

it wants to leave
but there is no way

out

the walls are
closing in

the space is
getting smaller

and smaller so

the bounce is
harder and

faster and
harder

and faster

there is no
escape for

the pain or
the container

she sang

slow
deep
****

hypnotic
lines

a spell

all
eyes
exposed

she moved

slow
subtle
****

stretching
all
her
parts

she was
part
animal

a siren
longing
for
pleasure

a partner
to
please
her

abstractions are chemicals

be careful when you
use them

they can be explosive
and only use them

if they are necessary
and if you

understand and can explain
the ingredients

their chemical composition

otherwise spend the
time learning them

before you express
them to others

and like scientists
engage in peer review

before you use them

make sure others
challenge you

to make your
points stronger

or leave it to
the professionals

which isn’t you
if you can’t clearly

explain yourself
or can’t handle being

challenged

we walk in the
shoes of another

they are too
large at first

so we stumble
and fall

many times

until we grow
into their shoes

or we learn
a new way

to walk