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In terminal D of the JFK airport
a bird—
trapped in the hostel of the metal birds,
a prisoner of its man-made rival
it screams
it screams
it screams
no one listens
who would help a bird in an airport?
humans come and go
some walking some running
into the metal birds they go
but the bird—
the bird is helpless
for as loud as it screams
it falls onto deaf ears
it falls onto ears that say
what a pretty song that bird sings
did it work?
I give a useless tug on my skin, done to reassure me
instead it reaffirms to me:

I am, again, inconsolable.

is the mask I wear today sealed on tight? too tight?
does it hurt to pretend so much?

does it seem clear to anyone else that there are loose ends I've yet to tend to? backdoors I've overlooked?
transparencies?    can they see through me?

I bare my teeth. canines, canines from the days of carnivores.
am I that carnivore? in my genes I am.

and in practice?

inconsolable, uncontrollable
barely a threat in her form.

this question comes to me under many guises:
an old man asking me: are you that of practice or are you that of genes?
a professor lecturing: are you that of cultivated identity or that of inherited form?

my concerned friends crying:
who are you?
is your mask anything like you?

and then i wake.
it's a terror turned nightly chorus.
recurring nightmares, doctors offer.

i admit i know the content of my dreams to be unfounded:
in life there are no physical masks that do the jobs my terrors depict.
no veil to hide the contours of each flawed personality, no mask to others, just me, weeping-in-the-bathroom, never-myself me

and those attempted favours to be like one another
i'll be like you so you'll like me
i'll like you because i'm like you

so the body charges on in this society like a mirror
cross your left leg when she crosses her right, fold your arms when she's folded hers, raise your hand to say hello, raise your hand to say goodbye

a kiss on the right cheek, a kiss on the left, one more on the left
this is how you show love and a greeting all at once

fold your arms over each other, this is sympathy, this is greeting, do you take comfort in this too?

so you learn to speak with your arms, and you learn to speak with your legs, and you learn to speak with your face, and you learn to speak with your head.

soon your eyes are apprentices of acquaintances, learning to borrow looks like library books, take on others' stories like they've read them end to end.

so in the middle of this process you learn to effectively say:
i see you, i hear you, i perceive you.

and in these attempted favours, at the end of your night terrors, is the parrot that they want to see. the parrot that you argue, can't really be me.
They come in unannounced,
united, and uninvited,
demanding my attention
my hands and body are in pose with contention
at the fault of being self aware
I let these thoughts linger,
letting them leave their mark
streaks, smudges and smears
leaving when they please, only to soon return
Tears down my face,
Lord where is the grace?
A curse at times of the mindful
Writing about my first experience with meditation and the struggles that came
 Nov 10 mercy party
you've seen me face identities
that seem seductive,
that there was little time to retreat into an haunting
but an urge for the past has came back
asking for
larger vows
that question every knock on an empty
"but winter is cold," and the warmth of the sun
is once again left me behind
a non ordinary

- G
"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"

Cut me open
just to watch me bleed
Legends can be told
by the scars on my body
When hero’s
become human
From their glory they fall
With a world so corrupt
Comfort can be
found in the tales
of monsters and men
They hid under
your bed
stay hidden
in your head

Do you want to see
what I see?

I whispered in your ear
in the dead of the night
Rough hands
running up
running  down  
Wanting between
my thighs

I can see the lust
written in blood
Grey skies
Old graves
It’s a cold autumn day
Ballet of fallen leafs
In my bare feet
It’s my favourite playground
a cemetery of dead dreams
I collected over the
***** consumer

I’m comfortable when
the walls come
crumbling down
Finding serenity in misery
At least something
understands me
In times of tragedy
I’m always at peace

Perhaps that’s why
I’m excited to die
I tell the black crows
In circles they fly
I want them to
take me away
see every dark
and twisted place

Through the eyes of a bird  
I will travel this world
Better that every fiber crack
and fury make head,
blood drenching vivid
couch, carpet, floor
and the snake-figured almanac
vouching you are
a million green counties from here,

than to sit mute, twitching so
under prickling stars,
with stare, with curse
blackening the time
goodbyes were said, trains let go,
and I, great magnanimous fool, thus wrenched from
my one kingdom.
 Oct 25 mercy party
I remember loud music,
Shades of reds and blues,
Laughter and warm bodies,
I thought "I will never be sober again"
I remember the shouting,
The color of blood and white sheets,
Sobbing and a cold body,
I thought "I will never be sober again."
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