At the cross roads
Down on my knees
If you love me Jesus
Wire me some money

Dank to think I can sort out my woes
Cause? : the bitter scratch of time
Stronger than the thoughts of man
A healing flow, sublime.

I’m more right than Maggie
The masters bigwig voice
They just drool to make me a tool
But I have a choice

Really on my own here
All made of stars
The commute and infinity
The universe and cars

Four walls follow wherever I go
Maybe I created these four walls?
Could the collective of humanity
dream past the halls of fools

Mighty moloch man eater
You furnace of society
Guzzling skeletal men
Chained by bureaucracy

Remember when we
cannot remember anymore,
the Sun shining through
windows sealed shut,
when we talk about it
we do not talk about it, we call
it with a different name: aberration.
I cannot remember you anymore
so small and languid in this
life. Everything pales in comparison --
offered by chance, filled with hesitancy
as if obligation, emptied by coming
into the fullness of it, saying it as a plump word
with the same accuracy of knives
tucked within the soft recess of the kitchen
counter that same day, you were different
as any other when we cycled through
Alexandrite Street, the world new again
like we were born in the similar moment
splintered by much less of a force waiting
outside the black gate of the home, and so
much more of a name slipping away
from the cliff of my chafed lip onto your
body's sustained pit, the drop barely an
indent, only as if of limited exertion but
possibly a weight for us to solder
through and through. I told you I could never
indulge into the fray and hold armaments
of it, but twice-told this battle I can
fit in: you, my accoutrement for war,
hallowed you are in excess of flow and march
through rain and light smiling through
opened windows with a blank circle of lightness
that is your face held close and memorized
before taking the commute home, force-equipped
with time's persistent pleading and our
untoward compliance like a reciprocal of stiffness:
you are the wall of your home and I,
a suspended pendulum with a dumb clockhand
     in a stalemate.

Skyward glints,
another hint from another sun,
London runs down,
daily commute over and out.

And how the weekday work is
coming to an end,
but what do they work on whilst 5 in the evening?
Spreadsheets saved in significant folders,
word documents in for a week on Monday,
presentation notes to be written, rehearsed, re-wrote and printed?

‘Beds, beds, beds,
prime town centre property To Let’
Broken brick buildings sit, they belong
to internet auction sites and in estate agent windows.
There’s no flow in this town no more.
Whatever river of commerce that once ran through here
has moved onto, and into, another course,
oxbow lake suburb by Government force.

It rains in the North.
Jewels in the tarmac,
rings in the walls,
stars behind the factory noise,
sound hidden behind an all-car-call.

My broken skin, my broken hide,
months of thought, a hunger for home.
Far flung, further thrown,
back to the up-north-hometown,
hometown of the known.

The sound of the toaster; the brewing of coffee hits our nostrils.
The smell was familiar as yesterday.
We turn on the big screen, hearing the news we've heard before.
I tell him I'm going to shower; he replies and follows his pattern.
Checking behind ourselves as if a surprise is somewhere...
I pick up my mahogany folder; he grabs his tool box.
Opening the blinds, only the sunshine will enjoy the day.
We kiss each other good bye.
Off we go, driving north and the other south.
I turn on the radio listening to the same song.  
That's unusual.... not really!  I'll hear it again this evening.

As I commute, a strange feeling held me.
This feeling I tried to ignore.
However, I've been branded as a cow among the masses.
I think to myself, when will the boredom end?
For change comes in a season, but still, it remains the same.
And I wondered does he feel this suicide as well?
Together we are losing a little life each second.
The coldness I could perceive as I twisted the lock on the door.
It welcomes me home with a cackle.
I wash my hands and prepare dinner.
He walks in and picks up the newspaper.
I ask, "how was your day?"
He responds, "Oh, nothing out of the ordinary."
I sigh...I sigh...

i want to bury your roses

before they become too real

- before they realize that they have been
murdered

and begin to decay

untethered

and stinking of age

and loss

and grayness

i want to press your muzzy

sleep-warm kisses

in a cheesy paperback

- bodice ripper

so they cannot evaporate

into the commute

of my soul to yours

and only lie

innocent and wondering

at the juncture

of where we will meet

The sound of feet is isolated in the tunnel.
Echoes of the slow steps of many fill the narrow space.
We march in silence.
Alone among the many.
We do this odd ambitious walk twice daily.
Twice daily this space is filled with the sound of the travelers and the workers.
And what about the times that betwixt the twice daily commute?
An ambiance like no other.
A roaring silence.
For those who have march here
They leave behind an echo,
an imprint of sort.
More ghostly than any ghost.
Haunting these tunnels with their essence
When the sound of feet is not present.

The sun has just risen
He awakens another day

Stop selling me insurance
that I cannot pay

His posture stiffens,
getting ready for daily commute

Another round he goes
of that nightmarish brute

that he has to see
Everyday at his job

The cycle keeps going on
Until the day his heart stops

But before that, nothing obstructs the decree
He keeps to the routine line

Before the law, no individual rises
Work is the only sign

Get out of the system, before
its too late;

When the darkness consumes you
that will be your last fate.

I imagine, this is what I’ll trademark
The impossibly early morning commute
I’m still drunk
It’s 6AM
And I’m still wearing my shoes

My phone sings with an urgency
It ferries the exhausting burden of responsibility

It’s 6AM
I’ll keep reminding you
Or myself
Because I have to

sigh

****

I have to make The Commute

6am

My body hangs from my brain
In a disjointed way
A detached manner
Like a consciousness manifesting through a coma

If I could forge the willpower
Gather some strength in my arm
To push my phone off of the desk
And silence the alarm

I’ll regret it in some way
Not even a second thought considered
It wasn’t even a hard decision

7:20am

As I inhale, and sigh
For maybe the seventh time
I’m suddenly aware
That in this very moment, I’m being held prisoner
I’m being forced to make a choice
I’m being forced to consider

My mind is awash in the buzz of last night
And the fade of this morning

Austere
Varying shades of whites & greys
Ohio in December
Ohio, the way I’ll remember

This is bleak
Wearing all of my previous evening
Inside and out
I feel like sandpaper
I smell like 3am
Friday night
Saturday morning
It’s Monday morning
And its a dreary 7:30

7:32am

I’m wearing this to work
This is how well I wear exhaustion
I’ll flaunt it in a professional setting
In a professional manner
A white collar show & tell

I’ll groom the bare minimum
But I MUST shave my face
Just to save face
So it doesn’t look like I have a drinking problem
Because I don’t
I just like to party

I treat my body like a machine
It’s regarded like a car I can’t afford to keep gas in
But I can afford to drive to New York at night and explore

A special kind of neglect

7:35 am

A single apple
A bowl of cereal
A bag of chips
Some energy to pursue The Commute

Literally, running on fumes
Literally, every morning
Between 6am to 1pm
Literally, running late
Everyday

Responsible living escapes me

7:41am

GO! GO! GO!
I hit the basement
I braced my knees
I covered my hands
Adjusted to bike the streets

Covered in gear
Drunk and exhausted
The idea of just staying here
Is so attractive and real

I can ******* doggedness
I can still taste the air in my bedroom
While I’m in the basement
I can also taste….unemployment
So, I go.

7:45am

Bleak
Varying shades of whites & greys
Ohio in January
Ohio, all the time really
Atleast it has the feeling
Biking in the elements

The air I breath stings something awful
In my chest
Ice cubes
In my breath
Snowflakes

The blue collar effort
Two feet of snow
And its still coming
This workout//THE COMMUTE
For a white collar job
Dealing with billing disputes
The upkeep of my finacial cause

I’m a pest
The snow is deep
Almost up to my knees
I’m a menace
I’m an obstacle among perpetual obstacles
And we’re all just trying to avoid each other

MARKET//MAIN ST.

As I start to pick up speed
My body begins to adjust
My senses waken up
And narrowly avoid
This, assaulting Mack truck
Speeding on a 10speed
Down the wrong side of the street

Whoops.

I’ve got no choice really
I can’t see or hear what’s behind me
Behind my own panting
And Kendrick Lamar’s ranting
So down the opposite side of the road I go
Around Mack truck smoke & mounds of snow

I reach the edge of the street
And depending on the day of the week
And how generous those patrons are, of St V
I could exercise the sidewalk

No such luck,
So, **** it
I’ll fight traffic
I’ll keep to the streets
And dogde the fleets

This is the real challenge
This is the adventure…
Side to side with traffic
Hand in hand with danger

Car horns & headlights
This lifestyle might really **** me

7:42am
Oh, hey look
Another *******
Middle aged driver
Righteous anger
Righteous motorist

STOP!
It was on Old Main St.
At 7:47am
I was almost on the news
This is a stanza of dediction to the man in the grey Toyota
I’ve developed wonderful instincts
I almost died
This man sped through the incorrect traffic light

So I stopped!
Or else I would’ve been on the news
At roughly 8:38am
Vehicular manslaughter would probably be the charge
Probably a hit and run
I would not have stopped either
I’m this ******* in the middle of the street
On a bike
I’m an early morning, urban menace

I hit the pavement

Desolate
Varying shades of whites & greys
Ohio in February
Ohio all the time really
Atleast it has the feeling
Sprawled, laying in the elements

My mind is awash in the buzz of the night
Before
And the fade of this morning

*******!
I’m shouting now
On the ground, at the sky
In the snow, to the ice
At these ******* motorists, at my ******* bike
A special kind of entitlement

I was born in the wrong state, in the wrong place

I hit the pavement
I skinned my knees
And scraped my hands
Numb & exhausted
The idea of just laying here & giving up is so attractive and real
But I can’t…because bill$

I treat my body like a machine
I regard it like a toy I can’t put down
Even if I choose
If afforded the chance, I wouldn’t know what to do

Dreary
Varying shades of whites and greys
Ohio in March
I won’t even ******* start

8:01am

I show up to work
Half drunk and overworked
Sleet and snowy down my side
And rehearse this white collar ritual
After my blue collar effort
I’m so ******* tired

Living on the edge has this embrace
Like something most people couldn’t stomach
Most people aren’t built for it
Most people aren’t meant to

Don’t take this as a challenge, gentle tweeter
Or take it as one
I’m not saying it can’t be done
I accomplish this, twice a day, four in a row, and roughly an odd fifth one.

the turn signal forgets its duty
withdraws the promise of passing
making new rules in an ocean
of pavement and speed limits

where workers claim their land
with reduced lanes and inconvenient hours
their camaraderie drowns out the disappointment
of drivers who left their homes too late
dragging their shadows to
what must be indecent times
in the work space

they slow their speed to a whisper
and attack the horn like a beast
upon its prey
reveling in the language of anger
charged with excessive fury
raising a sermon to command people
who cannot hear the voices
too small to leave the confinement
of their vehicles

~I was an accomplice
to the crime of wasted
Beauty...upon noticing
her...she acquitted me...
laughing free...dom.
She saying: "What do
you mean accomplice,
you were the sole perpetrator
until you noticed me...never
forget the Beauty in Ugly!!!"
I took on the ineffability
of you...my prized buffoonery.
You are massively disruptive...
my only mourning commute...
peace be on you ...as the rain
you love to hear at night.
I can't help but now understand
what can't break its fall...and how
deeply the earth drinks of it.

i've noticed
you're not nearly as loud
at night as you are
in the morning

i've heard you
bus breaks yawn my name
from the back of your throat

hiss a good morning
through your shoreline lips
and hum the tune
of the downtown commute

all before 6 am

THE FORFENDED CODSWALLOP OF MURENGERS OF VEHEMENT VAPULATED CREDENDA OF THE VISIOGENIC MEGALOGRAPHY OF THE FORTUITISM OF GIMCRACKS THAT WITH STALWART WHIGGARCHY AMONG JOUGS OF JIGGERMAST CERTAINTY CRACKLING WITH FULGURANT ACCLAIM MIGHT THE TREMENDUM OF TOOTLE OF CAFARDS OF BIFIDS BETWEEN CATALLACTICS OF CORDWAINER KIPPAGE FROLICKING IN HEARSES OF ANTILOQUY BECAUSE OF BARYEICOIA STRENUOUS WITH THE RIGORS OF GAUNTLETS OF SKELDER IN RISCTENDER BECOMING A CLINKSTONE CLITTER OF CLAVATES HANDSPIKING THE AVINOSIS OF REFINED AND REIFIED PROCATELEPSIS IN WAINAGE ABOVE POWELLISATION THAT WE REBUKE THE HEADLONG POTICHOMANIA OF WELDS OF WHELKIES FOMENTING THE SARANGOUSTY BURROLING THE DREAMS OF ONEIRODYNIA THAT ADMONISH WITH GRAVID BELLETRIST WOVEN INTO THE FUCOID FABRIC OF CAESARAPROPISM FOR THE WEIGHAGE OF PORTREEVE STEVEDORES UPON THE BACILISUM OF AGGRY PIEBALD SKIRMISHES WITWANTON IN SKEUMORPHS OF DAYDREAM BELIEVERS REPLICATED AND REDOUBLED INTO THE WIDDERSHANCY OF CATAPLEXY CONTRAHENT TO DUNGEONS AND DRAGONS SACCHARINE HUMORS OF CONTESTED LITURGY SUSSULTATORY AMONG SPATTEES OF SPAVINEDS NO LONGER COMPELLING BELIEF IN THE RENEWED GELOGENIC ZEITGEIST PARADED BY NEPHROLITHS OF ESTEEMED STOCKINETTE MIGHT THEY FIND THE FRACTIOUS ANIMADVERSION OF SACRILEGE IN PRAXINOSCOPE BECOME THE WOONERF UPON RIDDLED WOOLPACKS CRAVEN ONLY BECAUSE OF RETINACULUM OF SUBINTELLIGENTUR VERY VAPID IN TACITURN LIFE-PRESERVERS OF AUXILLIARY MOVEMENTS TOWARDS STOLID FORTITUDE IN DEMASSIFIED TROPISMS THAT CHOUSE THE YUZBASHIS OF YASHIKI BECAUSE TOO MANY CHERNOZEMS BELLOW THE BLUDGERGRUMBLE OF ZEITGEIST FOMENTING MYTH AND WRITHING IN WREPOLIS DICTATES OF RESCRIPT BECOMING TOO NEBBICH FOR APIKOROS OBSERVANCE OF REMIGATION THAT SHALLOPS THE UNTIMELY ENDS OF THOSE BLACKGUARDED BY THE NEBULOSE WARNINGS OF CUDDIES OF CUCULINE SOCKDOLAGER RUMMAGING FOSSARIAN GROWTH OF GLEBES HYPAETHRAL AGAINST KILLCOWS WHO BECOME IMMISERATED IN THEIR OWN SCHADENFREUDE ALWAYS THE WADMAL OF THE FRUITION OF FUTURISM STOKING ONCOSTMANS TO CASEFY THE VANDYKES TO BE FORMATIVE IN FUTURE GLORY. THE CAPREOLATE ATTEMPTS AT INTERRAMIFICATION BECAUSE OF URCHINS OF CODSWALLOP IN WROTH IN PARALLAX ENTOMBED ONLY BY RIVETING DURESS FOR THE DURAMEN OF DENEHOLES WHELVES ADMIRE AND THE VEESES THAT BLANDISH WITH ACORIA AND AUGENDS OF ARGALI RARELY EVER SURDOMUTE IN RAGMATICAL RHIZOGENIC CALCULAIC ATHENAEUM BECAUSE MOONSHOT AMBITIONS HUSTLING THROUGH URBANE CATACOUSTICS OF CARRACKS BECOMING RESOURCEFUL IN THE PRIMIPARA SQUALOR SWELTERING IN BARCAROLES SUBMERGED TO SINK THE TITANISM OF NAUFRAGES OF HEDONISM AFLOAT UPON SLELLUMS OF OCEAN PRAGMATIC IN PARALYSIS SUCH THAT THE GINGLYMUS OF HYDRAHEADED TRANSCENDENTALISM ESPOUSED BY THE BEBLUBBERED ROMANTICISM OF STORGED SALMAGUNDIS OF CANCELLARIAL DEFEATS OF COVVENGERS BECAUSE THE BRONCHOS THAT WAS STALWART IN REGELATION OF THE INTELLECTUAL TABERNACLE SUBSUMES THE LIONIZATION OF ALL INURED PYRETOLOGY THAT THE PYRANOMETRY OF SUBORNED GAMINES SQUAWKING COSTERMONGER SIMPLICITY AS A VEGETATIVE STATE OF REMIGATION FOR OLIMS THAT CREEP ALONG THE PURPRESTURE OF TIME MIGHT THEIR CHRONOMANCIES BEFIT THE CABRILLA OF SWANK THAT THE FILEMOTS OF FENNEC DECLARE WITH THEIR SONDAGE OF AVIZANDUM BEFORE THE AUSPICES OF NOBILITY AND GENTILITY BY GENTILIANS WHO SWEAR BY THEIR BYWORDS OF NAZE AND CAGOULE THAT THEY FIND THEMSELVES DEFEATED BY THE MODERN DEMARCHES OF A WORLD IMBREVIATED ON THE TOLERATION OF NEUTROSOPHY OF GRAMERCIES TOO WIDELY SWORN IN HALLSWALLOP TO EVER FIND THEMSELVES ANCHORED TO THE REGIMENTAL BEDROCK OF SOVENANCE FOR ABIGAILS THAT BLUNGES THE BLAINS IN THEIR SWORN ALLEGIANCES TO AMNESIA AND CECUTIENCY IN CTETOLOGY THE MALAXAGE OF SITHCUNDMEN AND THE REMARKABLE PROWESS OF THE DOYENNES SHEPHERDING THE ARTFORMS INTO POWERFUL GALLOPING HEADLESS HORSEMEN POLITICS OF THE RESIDUAL COCARDEN LUCKY ENOUGH TO BE AN ADVOWSON OF THE RICHES OF HAMARCHY THAT AVOIDS WITH ALL DELIBERATION THE PICKELHAUBES OF PROCRYSIS BECAUSE OF THE JIMSWINGING DAYS OF DEATH AND GLOOM OF KITTHOGE BELYING KITH AND KLENDUSIC DERMATOLOGY BROCKFACED BY INTREPID PIONEERING ELITISM THAT THE CHARITY OF PROMACHOS TITANS IN MIRRORED ENANTIODROMIA FOR THE EISOPTROMANIA OF THE EAGER EARWIGS MIGHT THEY SUSTAIN THE BRUNT OF THEIR LEVERAGE TO ANNEAL THE COAGULATED TIMES AGAINST THE AGENCY OF RHEOTAXIS IN A WORLD BESET BY CHAOTIC DEMOLOGY RATHERIPE IN CONTRAPLEX DELUSIONS FEEDING THE SWARTHY STORMS ON THE PRECIPICE OF TODAY BECOMING THE HIGHLIGHT REEL OF SO MANY ARISTOPHREN YESTERDAYS BECAUSE OF THE BACILISUM OF AITCHBONES RASPY IN THE CHALKISH HUES OF RHADAMANTHINE NOSOCOMIAL TWIRES OF FEAR AND FAMINE AMONG DESOLATE LANDS OF PHAROS AND PHAROAH COMBINED INTO THE VIRTUOSITY OF COACERVATING SPHACELATION THAT LEADS TO THE PRESBYTERY SUFFICIENCY OF THE TORCHIERS BEFORE AND BEHIND THE VANGUARD SLEEK IN THEIR JAUNTY DISGUISES OF MASCARON MIGHT THEY INTIMIDATE AND ARRAIGN THEIR SECRET SAMIZDAT FOR THE LUCRE OF ANTEPONE BECAUSE OF TUMESCENT BUREAUCRACY MET WITH CAPITALISM ASTOUNDING IN GIMCRACKS OF PORTFIRE AND BALEFIRE WITNESSED WITH THE GREATER DISCRETION RATHER THAN LESSER LASSITUDE.  THERE IS AN ANZACTILE PERFECTIONISM AMONG PICARROONS WHO BLARINGLY ISSUE THEIR SEMAPHORES MIGHT THEY BE ENTITLED TO BRAG ABOUT THE CELSITUDE OF CEILOMETERS AS THEY WITNESS IN RETROSPECTIVE AUGUST REGARD THE CELLARERS WHO FESTOONED UPON THEIR TEPID CARNIFICINE YELTING TRIUMPHS GOWKS OF GRAMPUS IN GOSSYPINE COMPLICITY WITH STANNARY AVARICE AND BULGURS OF BUDDLING BODEWASH FOR BUMICKY BADIGEON THAT HAS STAMPEDED FROM THE ALCOVES AND CAVERNS OF THE GREATEST SEMPERVIRENCE AND JIGGERMAST JURYMAST THAT THE PIRATING AITCHBONES WHO WANDER IN EMISSARY KNIGHTED NEMBUTSU THAT THEY RELISH AS SAFEKEEPING YEGGS BELONGING TO COAMING COBALTIFEROUS MENACE SKITTISH IN THIXOTROPY AND GENTEEL IN THIGMOTAXIS BECAUSE OF THE VORTICISM OF THREMMATOLOGY THAT ITCHES AROUND VOLTINISM CAUSED BY VASTATION YIELDED BY PANDATION BECAUSE THE POTAMOLOGY OF ELECTIVE PRIVILEGE INDOCTRINATES THE PAST MASTER INTO FIDELITY AND ALLEGIANCE TO PARASELENE ELASTANE TRIBUTARIES AND TRIBUNES OF BERLINE BOYAU BURIED IN THE DEPTHS OF METAPHOR AND RELISHED LYRICISM THAT EVENTUALLY THE DEMASSIFICATION OF THE HUMBLED STANJANT OF OBVIOUS METAPHOR AND CLOAKED NEPHELIGINOUS NEBELWERFERS THAT STORMED THE BASTILLE AND CONQUERED THE MOON WITH GEOSELENIC AMBITIONS HARPOONING THE TRAULISM IN TRUCIDATION SERRIED IN THE SULKIES OF ALL PARAGONS CONVENIENT TO EVERY HITCHIKER OF GALAXIES OF MOONCALF DEMISANGS THAT BELONG TO CARDIOGNOST AGENCY SWELTERING IN BEAMISH BEATITUDE FOR THE PULCHRITUDE OF PHILOTECHNICAL DIVERSION TO PONDER WITH GREAT PENSIVE PERPLEXITY THAT THE HISTRINKAGE HEIGHTS OF FANFARE MIGHT LEAD TO A GALLOPING GLADIATORIAL PAST ENLIGHTENED BY THE THEOLOGY OF MAGNANIMITY AND ANSWER THE QUESTIONS OF  IDOLATRY OF ESBATS WHO FOMENTED AMONGST THEMSELVES A TRIBUTE TO THE SENNET OF ARTISTIC MACROBIAN CREATURES OF KNIGHTED GLOAMING TWILIGHTS IN THE HEYDAY OF NIGHT SUCH THAT  THE WELKIN TRAMONTANE TO THE CHAMPAIN LIFES WE ALL LIVE IN A NORTH, EAST AND SOUTH WORLD OF FORESIGHT IN DELICATESSENS WHO URGE WITH HORTATORY VALOR THE CHAMADES OF CHOANIDS IN THE SAPROSTOMY OF SCHWERMEREI AGAINST THE LAST DEFENSE OF EXTINCT SCHMEGGEGY WHICH BARNSTORMS OFTEN FOR SCARAMOUCH TESTUDOS IN TESTIMONY TO THE CRAPEHANGER JOLLYBOATS OF NIHILISM IN A CENTURY OF DOUBT ATTEMPTING TO RESURRECT LIFE FROM THALWEGS THAT NEGOTIATE THE METEMPSYCHOSIS OF ALL NEOMORTISM AN ALTERNATIVE ULTAMATIM THAT SUGGESTS A THIRD ROUTE TO BYPASS THE NARROW GATE OF SALVATION AND ENRICH THE THEOTECHNY ALL BASED ON A HYPESTORM YAFFINGALE MYTH OF YARHZEITS OF SHIBBOLETH THAT BROWBEAT THEIR NEOTTIOUS NEPOTISM TO INSURANCE POLICY ESCHATOLOGY BRACKISH IN EVERY INSISTENCE FOR TAMARAWS TO CONQUER THE EXTRAMUNDANE BY A VIRTUALASIS BECOMING THE VOGUE RATHER THAN THE TRIBULATIONS OF ORGANIC DEATH LEADING US ALL TO THE PARADISE WE SEEK IN THE ALABASTER CAVERNS OF HEAVEN. AN ACCOLENT MENTALITY WHICH BEFRIENDS DEATH AND BEFRIENDS ALL WITNESSES OF THE GOSPEL THAT FINALLY THE CAMARADERIE OF MAGISTRATES IN DORMANT HARBINGERS OF BARKENTINE SUFFRAGE OF WOBBLING WARTORN SPECTERS OF NEOTERISM FOR OUR NIMBOSE DEMASSIFICATION AGAINST BOWDLERIZATION IN ATTEMPTS TO STIFLE THE FREEMANS STRUGGLE TO OBTAIN TRACTION IN LEVITY AND FACETIOUS LARGESSE AGAINST THE BRONTEUMS OF THE POSTCENNIUM OF ELAPSED CUDDY IN CULVERTAGE TOO SOON TO BE A PRIMACY IN PRIMORDIAL CAVERNILOQUYS OF APOSTILS THAT SEEK TO DECIMATE WEGOTISM AND ENSHRINE THE UMBRILS THAT MARCH TOWARDS SALVATION BY LEADING US OUT THE TEDIUM OF SUNKEN NOYADES OF THE TITANISM OF THE LOUDMOUTH AND THE CLEPSYDRA THEREBY ANOINTED BY HIS GENTILITY TO PRIVILEGE AND HIS PREROGATIVE TO DECRASSIFIED UNDERSTANDING SUCH THAT THE CUNICULOUS AMBITIONS OF MANY A FAMILY REMAIN REVIVED BY OIKONISUS RATHER THAN THE PERILS OF POPULATION COLLAPSE IMPLODENT UPON INTRORSE CONSTELLATIONS OF RABID DEARTH PROSELYTIZING DOOMSTERS ADEEM OF THEIR OWN SACRILEGE EVEN WHEN THEY SEE THEMSELVES RAISONNEURS OF THE HEROISM OF STRIFE AND SIFFLEURS OF PROCRYPSIS BECAUSE WE WALLOP WITH WHITTAWERS RATHER THAN REGRESS ON WOONERF OF EXTREME TORPOR AMONG MONGERIES OF VIOLENT RESURRECTIONS BLEMISHED BY PARTURITION MISGUIDED. IN NIMIETIES OF  SUNBITTERN SUMPTERS GRAVITATING TOWARDS MARTINGALES OF BYSTANDER SUNDOGS ALLEGIANT ONLY TO THE CODIFIED CASEMATE OF SILENCE BECAUSE OF BRITSKAS THAT STAMMER IN TRAULISM TEPID IN EVERY LUKEWARM THOUGHT OF SURREYS OF SAGINATED SURETYSHIPS OF THE SATINET COERCED BY THE BOBBINET OF BODACHES TO ROIL IN TURMOIL BECAUSE OF LIMACINE MACADAMIZATION OF A NEWER MACARISM RATHER THAN AN OLDER STULTIFICATION MOTIVATED BY STANGS OF BANGTAIL CULTURAL ARTIFACTS OF JEALOUSY CAROUSING WITH JALOUSIES AGAINST THE MANY JORDANS THAT LEAP OFF THE PAGE IN THEIR WEATHERBOARDS OF POPULAR FLAGRANT FOULS AND NEWSWORTHY BERLINES THAT BESET JASPERATED JARVEYS OF BARTONS OF PANMIXIA IN THEIR PANDATION OF IATRALIPTIC RENEWAL OF THE TRIBESMAN AND PEOPLE FROM OTHER LANDS FILLED WITH A NAUCLATIC CLORENCE AND A RENGALL DIVERSIFICATION OF EQUIPOISE FOR EQUESTRIAN HABITS OF KOBOLD CHUCKWALLAS OUR GREATEST ALLY AND SIMULTANEOUSLY THE BOGGART BUGABOO OF MANY SPECTERS OF MYTH AND LORE REGISTERED IN THE CLAVIS FOR THE CLAVATE THAT THE PLAGATED PLAGIUM OF THE PAST MASTERS MIGHT THEY CURTAIL WITH CURGLAFF THE SYNCLASTIC PRISM OF THIS ZEITGEIST SUCH THAT THE CLAMBER FOR HOLOCRYPTIC HOLMS OF METEMPERICAL DISCOVERIES SO FAR-FETCHED IN THEOLOGY THAT THEIR LAXISMS BECOME STRANDED IN AN AVALANCHE OF TORPINDAGE BECAUSE THE TRUTH ABOUT GOD WILL STARTLE EVERY LEGERDEMAIN AND ENROLL EVERY PRESTIDIGITIATION THAT GOD’S COUNTENANCE WILL LAVISH ITSELF UPON THE EARTH BROADENED BY BROCKFACED BARMCLOTH THAT FINALLY SOME GAMMERSTANG IDEOLOGY FINDS THE PROPER PIVOT BETWEEN MULIEBRITY AND ALSO VIRILITY AND WHEN THOSE COMPROMISES ARE STRUCK WE WILL FIND A RENEWAL OF GALLANT COURAGE AGAINST MACROPICIDE ON THE TAFFRAIL AND THE ABAFT ABARTICULAR ABAXIAL NYALAS THAT FINALLY YIELD THE CLOVERYIELD OF STRIFE INTO MODERN REVOLUTIONS BY SUPPLYING ALL INTERRAMIFICATIONS THAT FUNNEL THE SYRINXES INTO THEIR PERCEIVED AUTOSOTERISMS FOR SURNOMINAL LEVERAGE THE ARTIFICE OF ALL NOMOGRAPHY IN NOMENCLATURE. WHEN WE ANALYZE THE SVEDBERGS WE SEE THE DISSOLUTE EUDIOMETERS INFORM THE SQUAMATION OF ALL MORAL VIRTUOSITY THAT FINALLY RHEOLOGY IS COUNTERMANDED BY MORALITY CZARS WHO POLICE WITH MUGIENCE AND EVEN RUDENTURE A CULTIVATED SOCIETY THAT SURROUNDS US ALL WITH VEILS OF PROTECTION SUCH THAT SUFFRAGE AMONG VEILLEUSES OF RATOMORPHISM OF SYNOECIZED HARMONY THAT BELLOWS THE CARTHAGIAN CARNAGE OF THE AGES OF TIME IMPERILED BY THE BRICOLAGE TRIAGE OF MALAXAGE SUCH THAT WE FIND OURSELVES MARAUDING IN MOONLIGHT TERPSICHOREAN POLYPHILOPROGENITIVE PLEROMORPHY IN PLEOCHROIC HUES DESIGNED FOR WASES OF WAPENTAKE TO ENSURE EACH STATE AND DIVISION EARNS ITS FAIR SHARE OF BOONDOGGLES THAT THE IATROMATHEMATICS ANALYZED BY GRADGRINDS IN TRUTINATION OF THE MOST PERSNICKETY BUT LOYAL DISSERVICE TO PIEBALD GLABROUS CONFORMISM SUCH THAT THE MUTUALISM OF INTERNECINE DIVIDES LEADS US AGAINST ZUGZWANG WITH NARRISCHEIT BECAUSE THE JAMDANI CAN ONLY BE HEALED WITH AN HONEST OBSERVATION OF THE THERMODYNAMICS OF STOCKINETTE SUCH THAT ALL ARE INFORMED OF SHIBBOLETH AND ALL ANGARY LEVERAGE OF THE UMLAUT BERATING THE IBERIS MIGHT SALVAGE THE HIDDEN POLITIES OF THE PARCHMENT OF THE LORD’S SUPPER FINALLY CONVENED FOR THE SACRAMENT OF A UNIVERSAL EUCHARIST FOR THE UNIVERSAL CREED OF AGGIORNAMENTO. WE BELONG TO THE INTAGLIO ISOGENS THAT BURROLE WITH DEFT COURAGE A REMEDY AGAINST CHARLATAN QUACKSALVER WORMCASTS OF HYPOGEIODY IN NESTITHERAPY AUTHORED BY APOTHECARIES BELONG THE UMBRILS THE CHURCH ALLOWS TO ENSURE THE FULLY LIVED LIFE CAPTURES THE DENIZENS OF TAX COLLECTORS SUCH THAT A REFORM OF IVORRIDE AND OCCAMY WITHIN THOSE GINNELS OF CIVILIZED URBICULTURE CREATED THE MOST FERVENTLY BY BERGAMASKS OF BRITTLE BRONZED BONZOLINE ACCOMPLISHMENTS SUCH THAT THE SPHENOGRAMS OF SPHACELATED AND SPIRACULATED IMMISERATION MIGHT FIND ITS WOUNDS HEALED EVEN IN THE DIACOPES OF INSECURE BRONTEUMS PROCLAIMING ONLY THE YELLOWBACKS OF ALL SENSATION AND SENSATIONALISM BECAUSE WE  WANDER WITH THE MINSTRELS AND TYMPANY OF A MACARISM EXACERBATED INTO FURY AND FRENZY SUCH THAT WE MOBILIZE THE YOUTH INTO YOUTHQUAKES AND YESTERTEMPESTS OF FINALISM MIXED WITH CASUALISM SUCH THAT A NEOVITALIST SURREY WILL BECOME THE SONDAGE OF THE TRUE SYBOTIC UNSEELED UNREEVED INTERPOLATION OF ALL ILASTICAL TONICS OF HEALING AND THE LOVE OF THE LORD BEYOND THE SPANS OF TIME ENCAPSULATED IN IMBREVIATION STRICKLED BY SILENTIUM AND SILENCE. THE AVINOSIS OF THE ACROAMATIC HAMARCHY THAT BURROLES WHEREVER CONVENIENT TO AVOID WHERRETING WHIFFETS AND BECOMING UPON THE VERDERERS OF THE ESCAPADES OF A TIMESPUN GLORIFICATION THAT HONORS OF ISOKERAUNIC AND ISOHALINE ISONOMIES OF SCALE AND ECONOMIES OF REVALORIZATION MIGHT WE CHANCE UPON THE PALLOR OF REFLECTIVE NIGHTS TOO PENSIVE TO CONTEMPLATE WITHOUT A WHIMPERING SHEEPISHNESS THAT ALL IS REVEALED IN THE LORD’S TIME AND THE LORD’S SUFFRAGE FOR ELEUTHEROPOMANIA SUCH THAT PNYXES ARE DEFEATED BY THE HONEST HINDSIGHT MEETING THE BACILISUM FORESIGHT THAT HOUNDS US ALL INTO FINALISM IN OUR AUSTERE REGARD OF THE NEW YORK TIMES AFFECT ON MAN SUCH THAT OGDOADS BECOME DEFEATED EVEN BY THE PARTICIPANT NYALAS THAT ENLIST THEIR SERVITUDE BECAUSE OF ORGANITY AND AGAINST THE STATOLITH BEHEMOTHS OF THE STERNWAYS OF STERQUILINIAN HATRED COBBLED INTO ABSOLUTION WHEN WE ALL REALIZE THE IMMACULATE HEART OF MARY LIVES IN EVERY ASPIRING DAYDREAM AND THE PAPAL DECREES OF THE SOPHROSYNE WILL DECIDE A FATE THAT GOD OBEYS AND HONORS WITH HIS PLEDGES OF PLEVISABLE PERMISSION TO LIBERATE AND COMMUTE THE SENTENCES OF SING-SING PRISON. WE WITNESS THE CASTRAMETNATION OF THE ELAPHURES BECAUSE OF ORYZIVOROUS WHO ENCROACH SUBTLY IN LAMBENT PERFECTED NIGHTS OF THE PURPRESTURE OF CUCULINE AND CUNICULOUS OBEDIENCE TO A RENEWED DEMARCHE ON THE BARNSTORMS OF HEAVEN UPON THE EARTH SUCH THAT IN EVERY TEAR OF THE MAUDLIN SENTIMENT BECOMES AN ALPENGLOW OF HEAVENLY REGARD SUCH THAT ANNEABILS OF TIME AND THE ANGELS OF HEAVEN SPY UPON THE VANGERMYTES TO KEEP THEM UPRIGHT AND SAVES THE WREPOLIS SUCH THAT THE CELSITUDE OF THEIR BOASTS BECOMES A TRIBUNE TO ENLIGHTEN EVERY HEAVENLY HALLOWED HALLWAY EMERGES WITH CERTAINTY INTO A NEWER FRONTIER OF THE NOVANTIQUE THAT ALLOWS SCHOENABATIC CONTORTIONS OF LEVERAGED LITURGY SUCH THAT NO ABEYANCE CAN EVER ERASE GOD’S PERENNIAL LOVE FOR HIS SPECIES AND FOR THE AGRIZOIATRY OF ZOOLOGY SUCH THAT GRAMPUS BECOMES BEMOANED BY GOSSYPINE GOWKOS RATHER THAN HUMAN JOCKOS AND JOLTERHEADS BLARING A NEW SIREN INTO THE SWARM OF MELLIFEROUS LOVE IN THE HARBOR OF TOMORROW GLORIFYING GOD IN THE HIGHEST RESPECT RATHER THAN TREATING HIS AXIOMATIC AXIOMS AS ONLY AN EXCUSE TO CONSUMERISM IN BANGTAIL STANGS OF OSTENTATION. WE WITNESS THE WORLD ABAFT IN RAPTURE SUCH THAT THE FUTURE NOYADES WILL ALWAYS BE ANTICIPATED BY THE VISCIDITY OF THE VITRAIL THAT INTEMERATES AND PREMONISHES THE ERRORS OF MISTAKEN MALADROIT NEBELWERFERS OF PSITTACISTS SUCH THAT THE GENERATION THAT GREETS ROBOTS ALSO REGREETS TIMES BEST CREATIONS AND CELEBRATES ALL THE VIRTUOSITY OF THE ATTEMPTS OF URANOPLASTY UPON THE EARTH. AMEN

there was a tickle in your nose
water glistening in your eyes
for a millisecond your heart stopped
it skipped a beat
reminding me of how deep
my need is for you
how the corner of your lips smiles at me
your eyes dances at my very sight
my body cooes at the sensation of your fingertip
I inhabit the  moment
I wouldn't be able to live this
impermanent life without your
intense energy flowing through me
the thought takes my emotions
commute it to clay
smashing me into mural
of empty-ness
I pray
your natural defense remains at guard
and strong  
the invaders of your temple has found no home
When I see your eyes shut tightly
your nose dance
your fluids escape across the room
I feel despair
If your heart didn't compensate
that moment to adjust
you wouldn't make it through
I wouldn't have you here
I couldn't remain without you
no other being would do
I intensely felt in that moment
why I say
God bless you

The sun shines so brightly today
I feel it's warmth on my skin
Despite the harsh February wind
How is this so?, for last night
The darkness had such might
I couldn't see but right in front of me
And all the rest was lost
But now, the bright sun is back
I can see for miles.
I want to believe in the day
I want to soak in the light
And feel it in more than my skin.
But I can't help but wonder
if tonight will be so very dark again.

Lost today between what I want to achieve and how I want to be perceived and work is a never-ending pattern of habits and shortcuts. No more a liar than a way towards success. Swimming in a school of fish in a constant workflow towards uninspiring goals and dreams outside of missed opportunities and hopes. Dashed away with the barely visible snowflakes unable to stick to the ground beneath my boots. Boots that track a familiar path down too long a commute in a city I only meant to pass through. In my bed, I keep thoughts that never make it out of the room on loop, constantly playing it like a well-worn cassette tape.
Before drifting off, I think one day, maybe one day.

Mystifyingly our world still stands
Even though we pollute and commute
Our world is strong
The trees still rustle it the wind
The flowers still bend
and the birds whistle a tune.
The city hustles about.
The farmers harvest their crops.
The snow falls lightly
and the beauty isn't dying.
Still our world stands.

The Lake Pontchartrain Causeway… man that’s one long bridge
I drive it every day for my pay - here’s what I see along the way

Here comes:
Corvette Kary, setting pace, he thinks he’s in a race
When Kary’s not waxing his ride, for your safety you'd best pull aside

Petrified Patty, she’s over water and has never learned how to swim
She’s driving a white Lexus, so scared she has no reflexus

Miata Mike, chasing Kary's Vette, not gonna get too far
Trying to convince himself, he didn’t buy a girly car

Watch out for:

Makeup Mary, on cruise-control, wow she’s one of the worst
She loves her new Camry, but her next car might just be a hearse

Yes, that Causeway, can be a long and boring ride
And if you get a flat… there’s no place to pull aside
Oh but that Causeway has its points, take time to see
24 miles of entertainment, and the Northbound way is free

Here comes:

Road Rage Randy, always ****** and he doesn't know why
Today he’s running late, but finds time to escalate

Doughnut Danny, rolling breakfast and a tea
Such mechanized efficiency, has a newspaper on his knee

Wackin Wayne, you're kidding me, you thought I couldn't see?  Vibrating Virginia close behind, now we have equality

We've got:

Maypop Marty, thinks tires last forever
Does he even check the air?.... never

Mark The Spark needs a muffler shop, something heavy about to drop.  Comes Innocent Mike on his motorbike too bad he just couldn't stop.

Headphone Harry and his Pandora, he's here but also... he's not.  He likes his music best, you see, after a few long tokes of his ***.

Fugitive Fred on the go, at 65 point ooo.  Not a mile to fast or to slow, got to blend in on this bridge don't you know.

Yes that old Causeway, can be a long and boring ride
And if you get a flat… there’s no place to pull aside
Oh but that Causeway, has its points, take time to see
The mechanized circus on parade, our hilarious humanity

Don’t forget:

Frozen Frita, every rainstorm stops her dead in her track
Then here comes Ramin’ Ron, goin 60, aint too good for her back

No Tie-down Tim, **** flyin’ out of his truck
For everyone behind him, Tim doesn’t give a ****

NPR Nancy, she must be in a “Driveway Moment”
Only problem is, she’s on a god-**** bridge

Texting Theresa, I’ve saved the best for last
The last thing in life she did see, was an idiotic emoji

Lookin’ Lee, that’s me, pretty sad that I’m just as bad
Come join us nuts on the Causeway, might be the most fun you ever had

Kinder. Snappier.
More considerate
Dripping soy in coffee filter
Not too stressed.
Able to leverage trivium
Free online tracker app.
6
on the clock
Postmeridian
Kids away at care center
Glass of wine at business meeting
**** in the streets
Hand slumping man a Jackson
Irony
Better. Happier.
A safe society
Black eye on the money machine
In the store
On the street
In the hand
(Not the bush)
Guns off the street

Cleaner. Trapped.
Gob of brain tasty snack
(was there lye in that wine?)
Sleep in vehicle
Commute carefree
Unaware needed
Dreams defeated

Silent. Nappier.
More lethargic.
No need to ask
No questions left
to answer.
Free energy, Free money.
All that's needed
Is cooperation.
Corporations
Constipation
Laying towers of
***** power
in the open mouths of blind baby birds
With gurgling saliva
open mouthed
open heart
bleeding
filling the blender with sweet wine\\\\

the forest echoes when the mahoe falls
tall is the tree and strong deep is its root
at end of day even the staunchest bawls

honest men speak against all that appalls
their work is constant though most rare its fruit
the forest echoes when the mahoe falls

for just one instant fools delay their brawls
and bow their heads honour may touch the brute
at end of day even the staunchest bawls

at loss of friend we make our little calls
shed our few tears and learn it's absolute
the forest echoes when the mahoe falls

whether in calmness of the lecture-halls
or broadcasting to folk on their commute
at end of day even the staunchest bawls

knowing the silence that finally hauls
his voice away we cannot refute
the forest echoes when the mahoe falls
at end of day even the staunchest bawls

Started with gold-plated meals and religious heels
Felt like heaven was real
Then why I am in the mirror using conceal

Maldives By day
Belize when you say
In Madison Square
where you keep me boxed if I stray  
For freedom, I have to start with “May,”

Mother stretched her hand to not get met
Countless reports stopped
after the first check
Your life can’t be in danger if you commute on private jets
Burberry shades when he’s most scary
So my trauma doesn’t connect

As soon as I finally collect from my war wounds, it’s turned into show tunes
Like, “ Where are all these hiding bathrooms, when you are out taking pics in Cancun?”
No matter how viral, there will be an audience that says,” I never a ran mile until my lifestyle went down the Nile.”

Here you will find oncoming lights
roll against waves of red traffic.
The crimson tide is like a landslide
along side a river of white,
bereft of blue
on this morning commute.
Not a single star to dot the predawn gloom that blooms
into today's paper.
Children pantomiming parents
for the rest of their lives
while the adults bicker over the right blend of color.
Kids being new to the illusion have no experience
to reel in the meaning behind ideals
that have been rewritten and only go on to
learn the bloodlust.
A wet rag
wrung
with bodies
that soak through a toy balloon
full of hot air.

bus engine ignited set to motion
birds' wings colored white by clouds
i watch through the window

A train sits idle
Driver turns off the headlights
Helps my night vision

Flying past cop car,
Headlights turn on in rear-view,
Turn off, I can breathe

Oncoming driver,
Flash my lights to warn them
Of deer or police

At small town train tracks
Car flashes brights at random,
Left me quite confused

Chances.
How many do you get?
How many do you want?
You can take them.
Or you can steal them.
But who do you steal them from?

Only so many are given.
It's advised not to push the limits.
Although there are all too many gimics.
Of chances I mean.
How do you know when you get one?
How do you know when you loose one?
Often you're told,
often they're sold.

They're traded from person to person.
Given, taken, stolen, awakened.
Sometimes people don't want to give them.
Because maybe you took too many.
Maybe you just took them without asking.
People don't like that,
When you take things without asking.
It makes them feel used.
A feeling all too common I see.

If you take a chance.
You can choose the size.
It's best advised,
you measure it.
Because from time to time,
People don't.
They let someone else choose for them.
You don’t want the wrong size
Not everyone knows your size
That’s why you’re supposed to choose for yourself
You can't wear clothes that are too big.
You'll look foolish.
That's why you return them.
But you can't return chances.
There are no receipts.
No repeats.
Only advances,
To places that lead to more chances,
If you’re lucky.

Chances are not redos.
So don't dare think they are.
Or you'll look foolish in your oversize suit.
During your life long commute.
People always remember the ones you take.
And especially the ones you steal.
So don't trip on your pride.
Because soon it'll be the only thing you’ve got.

the people where work goes on,
have their faces strapped to their computers,
while the thumbs have texting down to a science,
gravity
speed of light
a thumb in motion tends to stay a thumb,
the people where the commute takes place,
get bus(ted), and are in the sky train(ing)
for hours every year while others have car(diac)
arrests for texting while driving or is it driving while
testing the limits of the laws of physics and hand eye
coordination a  n   d    d  i  d    y   o   u   s   ee  a   s  l  o  w    
down
in
the
reaction ...
................... crash,
the people that live in houses and so many paths
wear out the carpet, wear out the floor, hardwood
or laminate, but their thumbs never wear out,
they just grow new ones or more thumbs,

I saw a movie once recently about the end of the
world, and there were certain people who had no
thumbs,...before the world collapsed I am sure this
became the punishment for texting and operating
a vehicle stupidly.

crossing paths, crossing lives, each has at least one cross
to bear, it is bare, but all these lives, from a look,
from a lighted window, to a parked car, a man walking his dog,
to the person you meet in transit, on foot,
do you see their eyes,
is there pain in diguise?
do you even notice
or is it just another lotus
flower in the swamp
called life
called strife,
news said it was a knife,
cutting the strands attached
to each one of us,
not the fibre we are made of
but the life we weave with
all these fibres weft and warped
make society,
but all these unmarked footsteps,
tire tracks, electonic waves, invisible,
so when you wander,
make sure you wonder,
about all the people
on all these paths
and therefore sonder
in awe, go in peace



©DWE022014