With your back to these walls, Grace
You can maybe find what you’re looking for
Yourself, that is
Leaning forward to where you’re going
On such a strong-man structure
To lean on
Tell me why then, Grace
Are you still lost?
You say
No, prissy blabbering
Emotionally soaked
Out of control
Tendencied impresario
However forward leaning
Grabbed your pathetic existence
Straight shots stilled from your
Continuous frame of reference
In high definition modality
Captivating you and you and you and you
Completing the picture perfectly
Until there was you.

Yes, so true, but
Would you mind
Standing a little to the left
Of what’s left of me
The light just isn’t right
It doesn’t flatter from that
Angle of circular momentum


Your designer jacket and collection of silk scarves
Complete me
Darling, don’t you look so swell beside me
I should stay
And make you pay
For all that you have done to me
And if it weren’t for **** there wouldn’t be tats
Or tots
Babe
And if it weren’t for feet
There wouldn’t be boots
Maybe that’s what I am.

Hush
Leave me alone
I’m processing
How hard it is
To maintain a closet full of designer clothes
And you can see how they’re so me
And they keep
Me & My Walls safe
From being naked in front of you.

I’m dying and you won’t talk
I’m dying
And you won’t play
I’m dying
And you won’t fight
And I’m dying
And you want to remain a victim

Shot calling
Control freaking
Maniacal
Meanness.

Me & My Walls
Are putting up
Patterned wallpaper
Firstly
Meandering among the waves and tiles
Grace prefers ginghams
I’m thinking herringbone
With a splash.
For distance
And visual acuity
So, go away and you will know
True control.

I passed through hell
On this dizzying journey
And hell, well
The fires there
Shed profuse light
On the darkest parts of my soul
It was quite a trip
Illuminated by contrast
I saw the devil brake-dancing
With an angel on high
The angel had just
Come from an AA meeting
With God
Where God bestowed the title
The devil was quite a rascal
He had fallen from Grace
Grace was not who he was looking for
Disillusionments abound
On this end of town
As it turned out
She’s perfectly fine
A chiseled china doll
But Grace doesn’t live here anymore
Grace is an open door
And yours is shut down tight.
The shows over.
Say Goodnight Grace.
Goodnight Grace.
It’s time to go.

Empty streets my city the night.

A day well spent but promises kept, so word to page.  

Of what? Where, shape or form?

Inspiration from memory.  

Can I really do this?



The time was so soon ago,

that chronos’ amber sphere and silver drop,

felt doubly in their passing.  

And yet age did come,  

but without its wisdom,  

for no lessons were learned from stupored mistakes again repeated.

Conflict, my male mind. How can the very same not realize its opposing wishes?

Happiness found penetrating, short-lived.

The lonely Sunday of bachelored men, unused-day, headache lowly buzzing.



Was it bargaining? The soul destruction of hated labors balanced again by goblin and hob?

Never before hated, nor treated as such, the pain entering all the deeper.

I had some fault for sure, but so? Such extent?

Still, moons passed, and atoms parted, nagging in the recesses. Why?

Now can be lensed the downward spiral, not balance but equalized decline.  

So clear, so close, so me.  

And yet so right it felt and yet it calls on occasion, a smile from the right sort, some addictions remain entrenched, but because I want them to be. But do I? Should I? It won’t hurt surely?



But this is no sad tale of tendencied poet. FINALLY change.



A foiled attempt at running that meant success.  



Thank god for her.  

Upwards growth all from a secret within  

And where were you when the need musted?  

All from a secret within.  



Do these words paint a picture?  

Am I a bespectacled hipster speaking to a coughing audience?

Just practice. Read this years down the line and laugh.

A secret to remain

Or share?

Giv' it a go  

Who knows?

Art by Godin’s definition but will it connect?

I want to find out.com