She knows I hate 'I'm sorry' red roses
listen to this shit
I have no ego but the one god gave me
placed by the solely by the finger of his right hand
directly to the touch of my porcelain brow
everlasting
she knows I hate valentines day
but there were flowers on the table anyway
there is no one more laid back than me
but I can't stand when I am not listened to
and obeyed
She knows I hate 'I'm sorry' red roses
there they were anyway
casting red shadows in the afternoon sun
this kind of thing would offend anyone
not just me
I am only reacting logically
she should have expected this outcome
I told you she knew
she didn't care
She knows I hate 'I'm sorry' red roses
she left them for me
I threw them away
I guess you could say ink and paper make the writer, and I guess that's why I choose not to use them.
Friday, February 17, 2017
Thursday, February 16, 2017
Writing a walking poem
feverish long poems in the night left tattered on front door steps
making an arrow of the map unable to escape the grid like sprawl
follow the stanzas out to the river edge
remember each word must go with you
stick them like candy between your teeth
wash them out under the sewer of your home
these relatively meaningless directions on specific on wire-taps
contain massive spoilers for the coming week
poems cascade like arc waves drowning offhanded remarks
each new episode resets the continuity mark
ADHD victims are integral to this body trade
the street signs are no help it is the cracks on the floor show the way
fill them with your spit and sweat
eat from tattered remains from the hole punch
recognize the language unrolled from collective heads
leave the DNA to be gathered by the next intelligence sweep
throw your hands up at the unhinged finish line
ejaculate on the cuffs
making an arrow of the map unable to escape the grid like sprawl
follow the stanzas out to the river edge
remember each word must go with you
stick them like candy between your teeth
wash them out under the sewer of your home
these relatively meaningless directions on specific on wire-taps
contain massive spoilers for the coming week
poems cascade like arc waves drowning offhanded remarks
each new episode resets the continuity mark
ADHD victims are integral to this body trade
the street signs are no help it is the cracks on the floor show the way
fill them with your spit and sweat
eat from tattered remains from the hole punch
recognize the language unrolled from collective heads
leave the DNA to be gathered by the next intelligence sweep
throw your hands up at the unhinged finish line
ejaculate on the cuffs
Cater to the master
to get down on your knees
bend slowly
take care not to stress your back
lean over
slightly arching your hips
place equal pressure
on the balls of your feet
breathe out
while engaging your core
make sure
your thighs are parallel
then perpendicular to the floor
place palms facedown
before you
make sure to keep your eyes
on the ground
bend slowly
take care not to stress your back
lean over
slightly arching your hips
place equal pressure
on the balls of your feet
breathe out
while engaging your core
make sure
your thighs are parallel
then perpendicular to the floor
place palms facedown
before you
make sure to keep your eyes
on the ground
Tuesday, February 14, 2017
Possum
they tried to console me
about your death
told me that you stole food
that you weren't supposed to be
but that doesn't change the fact
I left you in the cold night
trailing halfhearted prayers
that I rode you down
that you died alone
upon the black earth
without even the headlights
to guide you home.
about your death
told me that you stole food
that you weren't supposed to be
but that doesn't change the fact
I left you in the cold night
trailing halfhearted prayers
that I rode you down
that you died alone
upon the black earth
without even the headlights
to guide you home.
Friday, January 13, 2017
called death
forget to light the candle o'er
the fire's glow of faded edges,
what little can be remembered
of what once was though it's broken,
thrown away through burning wick,
the word flickers and suffocated,
pulses to each weakened breath,
is a starry, familiar ghoulish face
the fire's glow of faded edges,
what little can be remembered
of what once was though it's broken,
thrown away through burning wick,
the word flickers and suffocated,
pulses to each weakened breath,
is a starry, familiar ghoulish face
Wednesday, January 11, 2017
writing in rain
there, across the keys
bobbing up and down
on waves
monosyllabic, mute saints
knuckles cracking, bones snapping
strung along about the endless white
a long march of nothing
thoughts about death
but I will not die today, in the rain
as it tumbles down yet unseen
I'm ready to let dry
clothes, fingers, the day the night
where goes the wind in mountains unseen
and the rain distorts the screen
floods the page.
bobbing up and down
on waves
monosyllabic, mute saints
knuckles cracking, bones snapping
strung along about the endless white
a long march of nothing
thoughts about death
but I will not die today, in the rain
as it tumbles down yet unseen
I'm ready to let dry
clothes, fingers, the day the night
where goes the wind in mountains unseen
and the rain distorts the screen
floods the page.
Tuesday, January 10, 2017
Thrown away
pale are the glories brought before and
quiet is the history of the mind. One that lies
and falsifies itself with story.
There in the trunk is the truth. Locked
safely away. The many thoughts of every
other body minus my own. My own is not
like those.
Orange peels, onion skin, egg shells. All
I have to offer is hollow leftover remains.
Pretty paintings without a canvas, no brush,
no pen, not a single frame.
Nothing worth keeping.
quiet is the history of the mind. One that lies
and falsifies itself with story.
There in the trunk is the truth. Locked
safely away. The many thoughts of every
other body minus my own. My own is not
like those.
Orange peels, onion skin, egg shells. All
I have to offer is hollow leftover remains.
Pretty paintings without a canvas, no brush,
no pen, not a single frame.
Nothing worth keeping.
Friday, January 6, 2017
Home
when i am gone. things
remain static.
i had once clung to imagery. to
write down. now I can't find it.
you called me. on the phone,
i could have texted. but
i didn't.
i never do. i constantly
think about it. texting. how
i never do it.
it was a misunderstanding.
why you called. why i replied,
i never meant to.
so i had to lie. to
not hurt your feelings. i lied.
i said 'i was just thinking about
calling you.'
but i wasn't. i wasn't thinking
that at all.
remain static.
i had once clung to imagery. to
write down. now I can't find it.
you called me. on the phone,
i could have texted. but
i didn't.
i never do. i constantly
think about it. texting. how
i never do it.
it was a misunderstanding.
why you called. why i replied,
i never meant to.
so i had to lie. to
not hurt your feelings. i lied.
i said 'i was just thinking about
calling you.'
but i wasn't. i wasn't thinking
that at all.
Monday, January 2, 2017
First spot
closest to the farthest spot,
first space on the longest mile,
left in park, ignition off;
walking home through the rain.
first space on the longest mile,
left in park, ignition off;
walking home through the rain.
Sunday, January 1, 2017
Holly Ho 2
time the lights
are hollow husks,
torn from cable
wrapped up tight
safely melted down,
colored as bright
as the sky
on empty winter nights.
are hollow husks,
torn from cable
wrapped up tight
safely melted down,
colored as bright
as the sky
on empty winter nights.
Holly Ho 1
time the lights
are broken down,
locked in caskets
metal-lined,
stowed away
beneath the deck
in dank galleys
on haunting ships.
are broken down,
locked in caskets
metal-lined,
stowed away
beneath the deck
in dank galleys
on haunting ships.
12 am
auto-tune
countdown
one second behind
the rest--
where were the visions,
then?
--happy new years;
i guess
countdown
one second behind
the rest--
where were the visions,
then?
--happy new years;
i guess
12:01 am
on the
balcony alone
no shouts
balcony alone
no shouts
cork flight out &
down for the sidewalk
bound
down for the sidewalk
bound
champagne cold
on my hands
the wind
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