it seems that everywhere i turn
another mirror gleams
brilliantly hopeless facsimiles
who smile vaguely
while shifting through
perpetuations
to stammer in clamorous gaits
at the doorstep of my dreams

and at the top of my tower
i barely here them call
sifting through stars and motes of dust
i see my petty wall
isn't ******* high enough

the thought to me
is crippling
how could we not avert
the *******
with all the glances
we have stolen from our pasts
how could we sever worth
in search of "progress"
as if life were a contest
instead of an event
is it not obscene
how we grow like cancer
and deceive ourselves
in thinking we have
all our answers

it seems that everywhere i turn
another terror grins
inconspicuous in the hearts of men
who obliviously commend themselves
for subordination
to hammer with calamitous endeavor
on the pillars of my paradise
condemning forever
the kingdom of my dreams

On the riverbanks I toasted the moon
between smooth pebbles and weeds
the silent silver bells tolling out
in tandem with your cries. Daddy
don’t you want more, more, more—
         Promethazine Queen and ****** King
your beloved subjects, beatnik
so low compared to New Critics
the antithesis to the highs neither
He, She, nor I have reached yet!
Religious visions in the soup kitchen!
          Finding God in the backs of cars
while racing to the back doors
of the hospital her cream colored wings,
found new heights when you OD’d
the backseat confessional as we raced
along toll roads, laughing, out the window towards sea
God you cried out, won’t you dance with me?
Hell right at your feet, yeah sure, I heard
and then out we rolled, down the hills,
into the fishy sewers, their haven
and I wondered is heaven fish chomping
at the bit, and at our toes?
            I’ll never know, but on these riverbanks
I start to. On our private shores
transferring from one bank to
another, promising, ***
that our memories are safe
locked inside metal storage lockers,
with police men wearing collars
and every single American dancing
the electric slide to get in with a four
digit pin, they want priceless for the night
for the price of a hundred year of their lives!
They beg for skin to bone loans,
millions of them, something to eat,
chicken—cowards, liars, and thieves
we run on getting drunk with the government
coerced each other, just stick in it, just
stick in, I am wet for the American
dream, and Trump’s toupee, his orange
lips salivating after me, grab me by the *****!
         Or at the very least release me, us,
the collective minds of our future gen
little boys and girls that will always
have to wonder, why? Did no one like them
and what kind of sins have their
fathers committed towards their mothers,
allegations, perpetuations, I just want
out of my own ******* skin!!!
So every night, before dying
I sleep with chocolate girls melting
into their Hershey *******
their chocolate kisses
or find guys whose vision is
both of us strapped up from the ceiling
Mary and Magdalene, save your children.

"Lovely isn't it?"

                              "The lonely moon lying above the tree line?"

"Yes, but I do not see a lonely moon."

                              "Where is this moon you speak of? I see not company in the forest, nor the bridge to its guarded heaven."

"Perhaps you do not, but can it not be among love if others are not quite about their love for it?"

                              "Can it not be loved and lone all at once?"

"Yes but the moon must not fall into such perpetuations,
We all desire and much more, require its pride and loveliness."

You are a moon my friend, a moon in a night sky.
Know to be loved and alone, and then know to love ones self.