Something here causing mold.
Something changing in our voice.
Nothing strange, it's nothing noticed.
But it's not a thing that should remain so solid.
As solid in life, like facts. Those knowing there is strife.

"I believe this to be your own problem."
I tell my son this every night.
After dinner.
After his mother calls and after his mother moves to bathe the day's sores.
In bed my son recounts to me his good deeds and other's misgivings.
And I think of young women I should have ******.
I listen and ignore his requests for good advice.

Do my words contain a sedative-like effect?
Or they are amphetamines?
Neither, but poison?

"Only God Can Judge Me"

I tell the man with needle in hand these words I want as tattoos.

              Tomorrow is Tuesday.

Hello my past-loved muse. I am not creator now.
Remember days ago and you'll not see me there.
Success to be found in my life, yes.  
Let's walk my wasteland, my mecca to be.
Close your eyes of wind begins to stir.
The stagnation is chilling.
There to my left is sterile ground.
  Abyss in the sea of nonexistence.
Stirring. They souls not yet pulled into my catastrophe.
I spend the nights swimming along voids.
And I waste my days questioning true North.

There is something just below my heart.
Though you say I own no such thing, I feel a virus dancing.

Though you tell me I am bones and rot.
I feel life and discipline festering.

Abuse.
So tell me this sea has you today.
It's this sea that's so deep in you.

Abusing you.
There is nothing we can do.
You are drowning.
                                   (SOS)
We will bury your corpse in what we feel is love.

When you remember me.

Here I am. Just as a promise.
Yeah...
still imperfect.

Yeah here I am, watching all those men say hello without goodbyes.

And here I am, a bit more together now.

Yeah I called, just to say my life folds together, inward now.

And yeah I called.

But not to tell you how pretty
and empty they're becoming.

I called to say that I called to say...

                         (I've)

Tending to a kitten's cry and not my oily hair.

Her eyes burn with an intensity
that yours never could.
And I feel alone.
With this frame, this pain, this agony.

I figured benzos.
But they burn oh,
Emma.

And love.

A feeling where you are already dead but people cry for you.

.

this breath.
what will one breath create?

or is my breath an altar?
my lungs enter more treacherous waters.

words roll.
break
and crash.
across your neck, flooding you now.

tightness.

slow and deliberate, my wrath comes today.

today now I watch.
no, I struggle for a line of her miracle.

this...
no, not quite...
no, this...this.

this peace removed
from oil and cleaned with oil,
dryed by human hand and
made dull with soft cloth.

justice surrounds me.
examples include steel and glass.
plastic vial. cotton within.
caught it waiting.


an egg sac introduced under skin.
and inside there's now plastic.
a womb dried in a village burnt.

                    Lord Almighty, lacerations and bonds tightening.

hidden in the spine (with hot glue & cross-stitching),
my old eyes make real
silvered ashen memories.

people looking at me.
people searching through me.

feel it at dawn.
                       (or you?)
and again before sleep leaves me behind.
                       (or before sleep, leave me behind.)
the Sandman's eyes open, now meeting mine.
                        (I'll leave mine behind.)

I could find Death!
I will hunt with your umbrella.

mistaken there in the waste can, also there behind that church wall.
now, stop for a day or is it today?

                           "sleep
                                                                                           (  blank area  )
                                                                                              small space
                                                                                         (  white border  )

                                       and dream"

                                                                her darkness moved my hand.

woken with force.
with a message to accept, but I
do not understand.

I should have listened closely,
but I do not speak the land.

                             's

falling raindrop, soon I'll be inside.
if night or day comes, that's when...
                       that is when I'll decide.

ah, sun's light on my face.
escort drives past, I've not seen nor forgot.
  "abandoned something"

I lower this spine, while watching thin heels
descend the three stairs.

my jacket I'll bring.
full moon shivering chills.
my spine will fold, will regrow, will develop sentience.
I would leave it behind.
the umbrella was bitter Fantasy's product.

goodnight sweet Prince.


some time for me, more about me.
my disfigurement.
my new itch to scratch.

the sun shines, rests sometimes in the instant
I close my good eye
or in the moment
I close my bad eye.
  one eye for clarity, my other for scrutiny.
      I use both for ascending.
where is this place now?

  is it there between the concrete growing?
                                        or perhaps in that warehouse spilled,
                                        no I should say spilling.

do not escape from light.
even coffins need guests, yes.
nothing grows without soil.

from nothing, soil grew without soil.

but...

                                        maybe now is not a time to tell you.

by way of the solemn.
more so than
by way of the brilliant.

emotions
not fully focused,
would perform deeds unaware,
evil impure, pooling and swirling.
young stagnant river, aging unnoticed under Missourian mountains.
take a stroll now to mend all your wounds.

from hope or pain you will close your eyes.

                                      coax today's life to a slumber.
                       know today's knife is your slumber.

I can describe no more detail.

take watch?
                      "no, not yet."
stand?
and we shall not kneel?
or bring arms for our raining March?
                      "no, not yet."
bend.

phantoms now.

over the timbered forests, a glow becomes a guide.

yes move towards and follow.
sever their source of medicines.
nod yes, smile while peace is burning.
cook fire
   and eat, drink to a merry dance.

a shadow watching you now.
your shadow so curious,
                                 betraying you now.

"home..."

cried for,
in wet gulps near black gulch filling
with you.
closest scarlet.

by way of the solemn, more so than by way of the brilliant.
it is tested again.
hypothesize
or abandon your
growing truth.

time proves its weight.
over and over.

this is now end.