It was classic,
just like Delphi said it would be.
Bright lights
(I mean bright),
yellow walls
(shades of *****),
a low hum
(in the bass range).
Mister Suit
sporting a razor-thin mustache
sat stoic at a long black table
carrying a wry grin,
his eyes shades of pitch.
They unshackled me,
hands pushed me down
into a chrome chair
with a firm red leather cushion.
Screams came through the wall
from the room next to us.
I sat there just as stoic
across from him
with a wry smile
of my own.
It felt like a scene
from a stereotypical sci-fi flic,
it wasn't though.
This was as real as it gets,
these guys meant business.
Guys like me were trouble
for the Control Boys.
They'd find out soon
I wasn't a pushover.

Tracy Batman

Give me one reason,
and I’ll turn back around,
almost past The Point of No Return,
and see no point in turning back now,

like Tracy Chapman or Bruce Wayne Batman,
or Tracy Morgan or Morgan The Captain,

or better yet a Spacey Captain or a spacey Batman,
just not a Kevin Spacey because we all know what happened,
oh no no fake strangers only straight facts fam,
you see I see the whole thing through I’m not a flash in the pan scam,

I’m beginning till end from lights camera action to it’s a wrap man,

gone till November,
leaving on a jet plane to Denver,
more Tracy Chapman than Tracy Morgan,
more Jon Wayne than Jon Denver,

more Honcho than Jon Doe,
more Pronto than Macho,
more Brando than Tonto,
full throttle no point in turning back now,

wow,

only time I feel alive is when I almost die,
we do like vroom vroom we do we don’t try,
no need to try to live that life when you really live that life,
why sail the high seas when you can reach Heaven and fly,

living The Life of Lives,
living the Dream of Dreams,
and you’re looking at me,
like “What do you mean?”,

I mean,
for real,
for really real,
how do you really feel?

It’s 2018,
and this feels like a Sci-Fi flic,
one where we’re an Army of One,
about to deploy and I feel sick,

see every Moon has it’s dark side,
every man has something to hide,
like Nazis with a secret base on the moon,
in a film from 2012 set in 2018 entitled Iron Sky,

but instead of Pink Floyd everything’s Purple Noise,
this is the year after the Artist Formally Named Prince finally died,

and cryptos were raised from the dead like a horror story,
Tales From The Crypto or better yet Tales From The Darkside,
saw a drawing at an art exhibit in Phoenix called Sad Pony,
it was sad because it was a unicorn without a horn so the spark had died,

and now he appeared alive,
even though when you look close you see the spark has disappeared from his eyes,

and he knows he has to escape before this city gets the only thing he has left,
which is the Soul he holds dear as he marches through the pain and the fears,
and he’s ready to go already but doesn’t want to leave you behind,
so before he goes he turns on his toes and asks you one thing just to be clear,

“Are you ready to get out of here?”

Give me one reason,
and I’ll turn back around,
almost past The Point of No Return,
and see no point in turning back now,

like Tracy Chapman or Bruce Wayne Batman,
gone till November leaving on a jet plane to Denver,
more Tracy Chapman than Tracy Morgan,
more Jon Wayne than Jon Denver,

more Honcho than Jon Doe,
more Pronto than Macho,
more Brando than Tonto,
full throttle no point in turning back now…

∆ LaLux ∆

2/5/18

n  u  m  b. . .


My      
                                w   a   l   l   s
                                a                  l
          ­                      l     cage      l
                                l                   a
                                s   l    l   a   w

                                                              ­                                                                 ­                                                 solitary

      ­                                                                 ­                     obdurate  C
                                                                ­                                          S       Y
                                                         ­                                              E     C
                                                               ­                                            L

circadian,
inexorable. Crimson orbs see every-

thing. Flaccid thoughts lay helpless

                                                               ­      on my bed.

                                                           ­                                                                 ­     The
lovely
                                                                ­                                                                 lull
                                                                ­                                                                 ­of
blinking

f fl fli flic flick flicke flicker

                                                            f  ­l  i  c  k  e  r  s       f  o  r  e  v  e  r.

fishnet qualities
only giving a **** about *******
always plucking skin from my teeth
sewing them together
my leatherface trophy for happiness
a mask worn, disguised as lust driven love
unknowing victims
cutting their own hearts out for me
a symbol for the empty cage, the broken door, the night mine walked right out of my chest
not stolen, or given, just tired and ready to leave
I let it go, without a goodbye
put on my fishnets
and welcomed lust for dinner

I wrote a poem about you yesterday

About the light you bring to my life

For some reason

You were only a candle

Just a flic
k
  er
    in
      g

of light
in the dark room

This morning
As I left the land of dreams

It wasn’t dark anymore
Not in the real world

And I see the sun shining through the blinds

I was too tired to open them

But I know there is a sun out there

I’m not quite ready for the warmth

I’m ready to recognize that it is real
I think I’ll open the blinds in the morning

the fire is flic-
ker-
ring i wonder how it will be to breathe
smokeless air and
hate myself for doing so

where will this rain go?
it has ruined my dry-timber bones
i am smoldering embers
shivering.

then- clouds clear &
clear laughter.
how blind was i not to see
the magic is not in the flower
who shines the brightest
because she loved the sun
it is in the flower
who blooms
because she believed in the moon

What is that of this,
I will ask from the question
which sleeps on the twisted lip.

The probity suffers,
when you burn your white paper.
Why did not you write your name?

The cortex invades
medulla. Your kidneys falter.
The sense and price become one.

A **** opend the pride.
The curves, the slants will
ask you to become the flic,

but you become a god,
accept the knife's version
and bleed to death.

I'm inflight watching
an old flic,
"The Matrix"
on the overhead screen.
There's a dude snoring
& some chick
eyeballing my lunch.
I have a hunch,
none of this is really happening.

I know you don't like me just know that I know it
Ain't gotta say **** but just know that you show it
I hope that you know it I'm now the opponent
Stay close to your girl or I'm jumpin up on it
She told me she liked me she sent me a flic
I told her I liked her I showed her my ****
She wanna **** I said I was down....
Let's get us a room and just get out of town
But she kinda nervous because she is married
She wanna have fun I don't think that she's ready
She got a ring and I got a girl
This whole situation is turnin our worlds
But what could I do? She really bad
N if I don't hit it I'll really be mad
So what should I do? Give some advice
If you don't say **** I'ma hit it so nice
Ima hit it so good I might hit it twice
Keep talkin that **** I might **** her tonight
I'll call her right now tell her what's good
Meet me on Porter bring all the goods
I'll bend her *** over after some head
I'll **** her so good I might bust til I'm dead
I'll bring her back home after three hours
She might be your wife but that ***** be ours....

With time spent looking over our shoulders
As a matter of fact, afraid to turn our backs
Not so wise although much older
Compassion these days is something we lack

And could these shoulders get any colder
What's in it for me is the new group think
Make our next move according to pollsters
The despair out here is getting deep

Up one coast down the other
Sea to shining sea
Home of the afraid the way we are governed
Land of the not so free

With points to make we point out others' problems
Burn memories in effigy
Flic your Bic, smoke em if you got em
Look at yourself but don't look at me

We hide our faces as we hide the facts
They only seem to get in the way
We once were first, now we're dead last
Right out of the starting gate

Up one coast down the other
Sea to shining sea
Home of the afraid the way we are governed
Land of the not so free

i want to love you

i want to hold you during autumn by the fireplace

i want to cuddle you in the pitch black and know that i am safe

i see plenty
thousands
of people my exact age
with people they love
or they wanna spend
more time with
i ache
i want you so bad
but
who the heck
will you be?

i want to be so engulfed in you that i can’t speak to you
dream of you
or lay awake with you
cause my heart will burn
and cause the cream bedsheets
to become the same exact color
as the fire my heart contains

i want to be able to kiss you
in the midday rain
pieces of you fit in me
glued together

i want to be so far gone
that if you break my heart
i will throw a fit and tantrum
resorting back to who i was
at five or six years old

i want to talk to you for hours
upon hours
forgetting that time means
anything more than numbers
becoming so invested
that the words i write
can only ever be your name

i want to walk with you
in the gloom of the
three a.m
drunk hour
wasted on each
other’s smiles
giggling and chasing
after one another
like in a chic flic
dreaming in
radiant
and gorgeous colors
all over
our clueless yet
satisfied expressions

and all i really want is
to be able
to lay by
you
and not worry
about not making
a peep
be whole
be full
be you
around me
i didn’t sign up
for another
you are the only
you are you
and i am in love
with the ashes
and madness
and nightmares
and insignificance
and flashes
and outlandishness
and you
mr. beyond sadness
lay with me
in the hush
of the nighttime
your flesh
and mine
and only
two hands
holding the flow
together
you and i
once i have
no worry
or anxiety
that’s when
i know
you will
love me
unconditionally