how do you still make my heart
fester and swell and thump thumpity
jump to the brim of my throat
like a frog waiting to belch it’s
morning croak croakity—
choking back his thick, velvety shot of tarish espresso
knowing **** well there was nothing else in the world
he wanted to drink drinkity, let
sink sinkity into the lining of his stomach
to drown out the fluttering butterflies
of self afflicting lust. tsk.

and now i can’t even look your way,
without feeling like I took a step
steppity
LEPT too far, and i missed the lilypad
by an inch!
so of course, I splashed splashity
crashed into its chill— still surface,
distorting it and rippling my surroundings
still while being submerged
in this silly, suffocating. pond i call
delusion.

w.c.

the cicadas are crawling around
it's 4 am and I cannot sleep
their faint buzzing vibrating on my skin
if only I had a camera
in my brain, to show you all this
maybe you already believe
sleepless nights are no one's secret
the cicadas crawl some more
and many Great Ones fall
from the constant buzzing
that teeth grinding melody
that often follows a day
but its at night that the sound
grows on you, begs of you
something you can't give
I was never a good at negotiations
and the Universe knows
You have all the leverage
the cicadas show no consideration
all the little feet, steppity step step
twitching skin from that noise
all poised to make me twist and turn
many lose the battle like this
exhausted falling into REM
then mayhem, the next morning
but not me, I know them well
so the cicadas comfort me long
long after, and I pay such good tributes
that I suspect they're crawling on
these letters right now
for you to keep