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Scattered Thunderstorms

The radar shows a band of multi-green storms,
Parallel running to the East Coast,
Stretching from So. Florida to Falmouth, Rhode Island.

Path-dependent, the edges skirt my present location,
Instrumented, but not weather resistant,
Water teases, invites me to a head clearing session.

Breezy gusts of overcast, caramel salty bay waters,
(weirdly calm),
Spray sprites whisper, scattered thunderstorms, starboard side

I am the only boat out, especially,
The only one going for sure aimlessly,
Radar non-discriminatory, stupidity legal,
So fools like me go out alone.

Scattered Thunderstorms,
Unavoidable, summer's favored annoyance of choice.

The melancholic platelets budding off my bone's marrow,
Forming wondrous clots of sadness,
Running strong in the currents of my veins,
Downtempo'd, there is no relief for
Inside of my radar scanned brain, the scattered thunderstorms,
Have arrived much earlier today.

What sourced this elegiac distich,
Too many poets, fully disclosing their downbeat, aroma of defeat?

The world is in a **** mood, not one of us, got nothing
Good to say, seems that love storms ripping hearts
With no trace of mercy, the radio has elected nonstop
Taylor Swift and Jonas Bro's
Just to make the point!

It is so easy to feel ******,
When the sun is unshining, elegant distich, **** me.

Thinking back, getting a good idea,
Found some long necked Corona overlooked,
Turn on the tv, pretend I'm a real cowboy,
And for god's sake, shut down poetry,
Good Bye Poetry, for the rest of the day

Value you more than me, but you've worn me down
My blood streams your anguished distress,
I cannot survive these scattered revolver-repeating
Anguish-Cries-For-Relief from the Thunderstorms,
That now having reached, breached,
That now, having infected my heart which started
This day brow beaten,
First poem of the day, already shell-shellacked,
Now, I must shut me, batten me, down.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The average lifespan of a platelet is normally just 5 to 9 days. Platelets are a natural source of growth factors. They circulate in the blood of mammals and are involved in hemostasis, leading to the formation of blood clots.

Laughter at the pirate ship wreck
Incarcerated alibi.
Self-doubt and enemy envy.

Post neurosis mental chariot waiting patient set to test and task the palatial steel ballast.

Starting to startle itself awake according to twilight reporting recognized first and focused lazily to be remembered later for the first half percent.

Decent decline descending darkness ascending atoms attending arson. Gallant grey nose for cold weather bubbling wound **** streak pillow.
Plain sight eyes glazing reminiscent veteran folded over beer bottle drunk at home the unknown soldier.

Spirit spear piercing glowing nexus weightless flying high shadows vacant samurai clutch in an adjacent basement.
Bleeding bone fractured paper homes manufactured homeless jeering platelet picked and cast like a rune on your first born baby blanket.

Hallow, heated, grave displayed, and looped backwards.  

Happy fishing!

Cancel Haloween, I'm not the monster here
Fall's my favorite season, but hell October's doggie days for me
Stagnant rivers, and pockets full of leaves
I try to run a little faster just to escape these things catching up to me
Big furrys and little monsters at my knees

Oh, geeze-la-weeze
I need to feed on something sweet
So give me your neck girl,
I need your flesh, give me your blood, your best
Give me your glitter, your neon *******
Oh, get me the hell out of this monsters nest

Adrenaline pumped into me, I feel every blood platelet intimately rushing through me.
Radioactively synthesized, authenticity arise
Don't wait on me babe, I'm just trying to synchronize

Worry about me, and I'll let the tension build
Till I get the attention fill I need, babe.
Raid my mind with all your battleships and heavy war machines
Break me down until you find something worth keeping

I've bartered the black market selling love for lust, and my dreams for less
I barter for pleasures, but I always want more
I've lived a shallow life, assured
I've become a monster, and a *****, all while trying something new
That I was told was a cure
Now I follow with the bewildered beasts boohoo
Now I follow with the bewildered beasts boohoo

Black curtains

Can't block enough light

For these conjunctivitis eyes

My hangover is your demise

Single sickle cell anemia patient

What's your platelet count

Little *****

Don't tell me not to yell

Not always Mr nice guy

These Pacific ocean eyes

Can turn cold and Atlantic

Bicoastal bipolar niche

Freeze you out

today was enough

the walk around that art installation entitled THE GRID
where the artist has nylon strings strapped from ground to sky, meant for the setting sun to shine upon

through craft pull out stores called WOLFE+HUNTR and HEY KESSY
that bakery called LUCCA and their bad tuna sandwich

a saturday riddled with simplicities
questions asked and then answered
emails sent and taut conversations with a high-strung aunt

today was enough

my blood test screams NORMAL platelet count
268 from wednesday's 31
music says it's alright

today was enough

a hound stretches on a stoop
frozen, lacking a cadenced pant
sun splaying its last beams against
skin, warm tin and damp rigor mortis

the letch inside stammers,
retches

his yellowed nails scratch scabs
on flaking elbows
dried snakeskin platelet scales

too much residue
of asbestos and mildew, of
burnt gilded pages for heat
'cause they were of little use
to illiterate plainclothe'd sleuths

and the crows outside caw
with anemic splendor as
their ***** broods grovel


the inebriate inside
draws open dingy curtains
for the sun was finally subdued

he opens the window
to a finicky drizzle

and was interrupted by horse & buggy
and the tangling of her rosettes
transfixing voracious, beady eyes
as objects of interest phased out of view

we heard all this through the grey horseshoes
trudging through forgotten alleyways
all too loud and dramatic


we watched from fog outside
the ****** tavern where they drank
blood straight from the stomachs of lampreys
downing life, agnostics proudly clapped, with
death and decay on a parsley'd dinner plate

lingering in the hospital waiting room
for an embellished platter of viscera
to fill vacancies, with burnt rot
with a sterile, surgical tang
and jagged accoutrements
all are gorging lovingly,
already anticipating dessert

each solitary phantasm of a person, slouching in booths, on stools
smirks knowingly at the song that's now playing on the a.m. radio
while positioning their utensils, scooping, filling cavernous maws

and they all smiled
as their eyes gasped
as those outside
chipped their teeth
on rusted forks, and sighed

the dead ounce of liveliness failed to
take hold of its slouching bags of bones
and the coyote howled at the sound of the siren curfew

so listen carefully to the inflection of static hissing
the joyful crackle of disembodied voices

He did not want to join the club.
He never did apply.
When he learned about his membership,
his impulse was to cry.

With his membership came tests and fees.
The doctors bled him dry.
There were biopsies  and M.R.I's
Why me, he wondered, Why?

It seems his White blood cell count was up
while his platelet count was down.
He asked if there was any hope
but the White Coats merely frowned.

This club need not advertise
for fear that membership will drop.
New members join up every day
though all would rather not.