Friday, January 28, 2022

Parallel Dystopia

 forward to come to the 
place of hanging wire
the autumn of electric civilization
moss growth on the canopy towers
walking alone
 
 the cables droop like my steps
as sinking into pot holes I watch
into the long lonely paved distance
there is no ride coming to tell of the here now
end of time
 
  I am in possession
of the last threadbare pair 
of mournful jeans
the last immutable skeletal remains
a faint clicking of branches 
brings the final static fall
of the human forest

 blinding smoke whiter than ancient
cloud bodies drift over the corpse of 
the summer afternoon
there is no temperature left
all the mercury having sunk 
into my skin

I can no longer find pockets
for my bloodied hands
I can no longer find skin
to cover their naked flesh
 
 the distant shriek of amnesiac
cell phones have replaced even 
the oldest bird song 
the last human voice lost to antiquity
leaving a message I am not
sure I understand

Saturday, January 22, 2022

Darkness

                   I keep the door closed
my hands crack against the fault line
 
it breaks like the spine of a book
folding back spilling letters out
 
the pages rain slowly slipping
under the rug
 
I wonder if the door could open
without me were I to wait
 
there isn't anything left inside
the sound of breath that are not mine
 
the growing distance between myself and the cold
 
a window pane peering behind its own eyes
sees nothing but the light 

Thursday, January 20, 2022

party

Standing in that kitchen
The cold tile glowing radiantly under the dying oven light
Late into the morning late into the evening
Leaning against the loose knobs of the cold stove top
Coming down from mushroom acid drunk trip holding a can of beer in my hand
feeling the open flesh under finger nails
Listening to you laugh and the sounds of your voices 
echoing into the darkened walls of the old house I was waiting for the universe 
To halt itself in momentary standstill to split into a billion known possibilities 
to reach the end of its endless trek into the ever sharpening void
Standing in that kitchen wanting to hold each of you forever screaming 
into the abyss of timeless nothing-ness and shadow
Sitting here tonight alone under the foggy light of a winter moon 
wishing it all had come true