Tuesday, April 27, 2021

House

 the shadow that the floorboard casts

across my feet.


yesterday's coffee stirs

in the breeze sneaking under

cracks in window

leave broken faces staring into the sun


cold


my hands have no age

i dont recognize them


no wrinkle forms a memory

no scars are a thought


my dreams have transpired

they have become more reality than not


a neighbors lawnmower purrs


the grass is already asleep.


Friday, April 9, 2021

A Collection of Dream V

 blocking the exits

a man dismantles a typewriter     door frame

I walked down using the back

of chairs

                 it was to escape an theatre with 


no screen     I should have asked him to move

but I didn't want to bother     ruin his

concentration


my hat is on my hip when I mean to make

sure I didn't leave it in my seat


the film flips at its end black white then black and white

two huge metal doors creak and

the theatre exits and an escalator like metro

removes     takes me outside into a city 

unlike but it feels like generally

DC

Tuesday, April 6, 2021

A Collection of Dream IV

 leaving.     i'm here for some reason 

stopped being a student

but i'm in hs again. in the building.


someone i know is hanging by the visitors entrance

the other side of the ropes

i lie and tell them my wife is working late

but that's        a lie. i don't have a clue where they are.


around the corner. i am entering my old neighborhood

childhood. in a field there's a holed out barn     burnt up


the building held some importance long ago


to memory or youth possibly.     i cannot hold back.


crying. 


beyond the barn the structure shifting to this kind

of soft smooth neoclassical structure  a kind of 

bottle   behind it rising above the sky 

there's a larger horrible copy 

engulfing the earth my eyes     my mind

Friday, April 2, 2021

A Collection of Dream III

I am at a thrift store.  My brother slipping 

something in pocket.


we're outside looking in cars. I am not aware.

We may have been seen.


Inside the car my father looks out. His eyes are bulgy under lids.    they are gone.

He says they are getting better.    better.


but his eye lids are stuck together. He forces them open as proof.


the thin skin tearing at his lashes.

A Collection of Dream II

 I thought I was 

                      trapped in a dollhouse


but the trees

they recognized me

A Collection of Dream I

There's a blind cat with a clown mask walking on hind legs

a dog attacked on thanksgiving leaving diarrhea in it's wake

the movie on tv is a romcom  but like super heroes married gore

the main character like a boy but after every world altering event

he likes another boy more

Tuesday, December 22, 2020

winter

 i take the shrinking hours

i watch them drop below

the horizon

                    that is really just a wooden fence

i forget where they have been

promising the lie that ill remember them

always

Monday, December 21, 2020

a return to unease

the last time
backlight red
drifting into blue
through the window
watching eyes go blank

become reflections in the snow

night like before
seems to shiver like 
midnight

the sun barely down

there's no switch to
release 

the last time
to make sense of 
where the cloud goes

when it's gone

Monday, August 3, 2020

Prediction

marked automatically;

    life passing within four walls
a leaky faucet of time

the overgrowth of yard
before the window

effortless and green

a million sown fields of pokeweed
glowing pink for a moment
in the stillborn sunrise

it's partly cloudy today
I am superimposed over this reality

there is rain in every imaginary forecast

time is a summer storm
before the window pane

the blackberries of july will become the winter's snow 
before I am gone

Saturday, June 6, 2020

never future

It was rather raw.
    the bloody spot.     leaking valves.
Rubber not conducive to cleaning up the spill
only tongues of the willing will suffice.
Whether they be brought to heel or made to grovel
armor can only weigh down so much.
    luckily with no conscience to break.
only meat.     Cold deathless meat.    raw meat
fit snuggly into containment units
set with bullets for mortar.     burned out sockets.       salted and cured of sentimental value.  without eyes to see inward
the deathlike void reaches out
pulling itself inside.  
marked with no decision.  Taking every reward. 
Made of nothing concrete. 
Only violent. Only violence. Only now and then.

Friday, June 5, 2020

No new hires

drawing a crooked line to

                          this current dream

the face of nondescript mall
escalator to rolls

                            the floor i meet is not
the one
              recalled

i haven't been making the walls
of the memory

the vision is not waiting here for my return

only confusion of time

a lost place         a wretched belief

Peanuts

music   played like end credits
          eight years 

ago         reminded of cracked pavement
broad street

Newark    caramelized peanuts

     searching for 50c 

to make the down
                              payment

to continue to the river's edge
 to soak my brain away in the stream

Wednesday, May 27, 2020

barbed

barbs dig into my leg

they make a funny sound when i walk,      no,
an interesting sound

                                  enough so that i won't
remove them   
                      enough so that they'll slowly pierce

deeper into the skin

                                 buried there & 
                                                      enough so that
when i recall their presence

i'll allow them to feed on my flesh

consuming my life     leaving my memory

for dead.

Wednesday, April 29, 2020

another one about mud

there might be people
still using it   
                     oh, nevermind
the rubber mat
over the doorstep

it's only there to cultivate
the mud
              that has no stench
only color
the color of decayed potential

a steady drain on battery life
the slow decline
                           of bolt and latch
sink of boot and shoe
never to meet what is
                                   hidden
beneath.

window pane

your starling

dressed in black     jumps off the heavy wall

it doesn't bother to open its

wings    surrounded by the buzz of

wasp and termite     Im the only one that watches

her fall