Mixed with Spit

this is the shortest day of
the year, the winter solstice,

it's not all that cold,
I've left the windows open,

I am in the shower spitting
toothpaste,

there was a girl once, in this
shower, but I'm alone now, sexless,

past the fogged mirror,
if you'd wipe your hand
across its face,
are gray tired eyes,

a mind that won't settle,

water runs toward the
drain, gurgles, swirls,
settles for a moment,

disappears.

Daily Routine

Those plastic globs
drowned in shower drains
pregnant with body
image heat sensitive
cameras blue/green
with rolls of pink flesh
sift slowly through fusion
cell lead pipes cellphone
fiber-optic crane machine
super computers
slowly building your face
eventually replacing personality
decoding deconstructing
actions to numbers
faceless
merciless
pervasive
cleanliness

I am tormented by dreams I know aren't real

you fall asleep in my arms,

as am tormented by dreams
I know aren't real,

we each survive
one revolution
of the infinite

then blackness

I feel your skin as
it melts into mine

there is nothing sadder than time,
said the old gods,
How do I know?

I am one of them

believe in me,
I have one grand trick yet to play,

It is a flower in a meadow
on a continent, between oceans,
on a planet hurtling toward oblivion,

It is a black hole chorus only for you.

Girls and beers

I drank a blonde beer tonight
and there's a girl with dark
hair in the shower right now, I hear
the water running as I'm typing, getting
good responses, terrible responses,
scary responses, the label was blue
from the texas, the girl blue robed
from taiwan to new york but me,
me, I'm just the same idiot
wearing torn shorts and stained
flyers shirt typing while there's a
girl in the shower