Penultimatum

Tell me that you love me
like we're both still kids
harboring a feeling
yet to be named
to be invoked
like long lost scripture
passed straight from god
to our lips
through our lips
a revelation
a sadness to be so happy
as we admit to love
to the loneliness
that comes with caring
beyond reason or proximity
for a person that isn't ourselves

Pumpkins

I'm wondering when
these words will turn into pumpkins
falsehoods delivered on glass slippers
set to disappear come midnight
come some arbitrary truth
made of me
and delivered by me
unto me
as if the failure to produce them
would render me less than I am
a flirtation with disaster
with a self
determined by a series of definitions
meanings scrounged from syllables
scrounged from fairy tales
that never ended happily ever after
until we rewrote them that way

Tell me a Fable

It never ends
this life of ours mere fodder
for the storyteller
selfsame as our selves
a parasitic collective
with a talent for dialects
and a love for words
that does justice
in the name of precocious youth
that state of the species
wanting a self
which words do nothing for

Four

You were so cute
in four hundred words
in smiles aimed squarely
off-center
as if there was something
someone
pressing gently on the frame

Four hundred
became four thousand
with hands held
in the space
we failed to fill
in the absence
of the truth

I wanted to stop counting
to stop believing
there was a finite number
we could exchange
but when four became forty
our shared language
had run out

Turkey and Gibberish

We're all quite comfortable
with nonsense that sounds good
the please and thank you clatter
of a turkey dinner table
that revolving mess
of grudges given up
animosities suspended
but only briefly
only as long as there is more
to pass clockwise and counter
to consume without reason
until the very marrow
is swallowed down

Chasing Waterfalls

It's a tragedy of reality
that we often must turn back
with the goal in sight
with vision
of where we want to be

We divine safety
holding a snake before us
its forked tongue
whispering the wisdom
of a mortal coil

To know what we know
and still proceed
foolishness
to proceed into the unknown
divine

It's not a miracle we needed

We were alone together

not physically removed

from the atom smashing exchange

of your hand in my hand

the sound of your heart in my head

not physically removed

by more than a hand-print

by edges uniquely ours

It was the last time

we'd walk like that

the last time I'd see you

with that half-smile

aimed somewhere in the distance

some distance where half-happy

was better than this

this composite creature us

It's not one of those things

I look forward to remembering

but all the same

I find myself half-smiling

at the palm of my hand

find your half-smile

in one of its lines

and make half-smiles whole

Dead Letters

She sends me postcards
from far away places
the kind you find in shops
where tourists scratch their kitsch
the kind we used to talk about
owning some day

The first was from
The World's End
and she left it blank
like that was all there was to say
like five years
could so easily disappear

The second was remarkable
only in that she managed
to write: Hi
on the other side
of a mountain
deemed impossible to climb

There was a third
and a fourth
of the ocean and the sky
with the sort of blue that feels
like it will stretch out
somewhere past infinity

This last was of a tree
completely unremarkable
save the fact
a photographer deemed otherwise
save the way
it clung so strongly to the earth

She sends me postcards
from far away places
the kind you find in shops
where history goes to die
the kind we tried to curate
till the future found us out

Forget-me-not

I've lost track of time
without you
not in the pleasant infinity
of a potential us
but the vacant reality
of shrugged smiles
gestures aimed at placating
the ever-present crush
of not you

It's not so bad now
only I can't remember
if it's been one year
or five
if tomorrow marks some
milestone turned millstone
that I'll be dragging
with a dumb grin
past a need for time

Holiday Inn my head

It was one of those non-sequtius gestures
one of those whys
whose answer couldn't possibly
be worthwhile

A key-card for a hotel room
long since rendered inert
stranded on a residential rock
offering only a slogan

Stay Inspired
as if all inspiration took
was a reminder
a nudging from some great unknown

Country Modern

Joe crow
sitting on a Subaru
more common than a fence post
in this part of town
where temporary living arrangements
are all the rage
and you don't need fences
to keep in a culture
that just wants to be free

Joe crow
staring me down
like I'm the one who doesn't belong
and maybe he's right
I'm more a fence post kind of guy
pretending these cars
are immovable objects
waiting for their crows
for the past to catch up

Itsy Bitsy

When it rains like this

I'm left wondering

where all the clouds came from

puddles picked up elsewhere

and deposited on my shoes

Cosmic displacement

of such minor proportions

I have only to wait for the sun
to lift the world again
and take it where it will

Stranger than Fiction

We pulled into a bank of fog
and sat there
staring out
staring at whatever world
we thought we wanted
staring at the infinite possibilities
dried up now
in the bucket seat between you and me

Maybe I'm nostalgic
or pathetic
or a harmonious composition of the two
tragic
because the story will end with my death
even if we had gotten hitched
the story will end
and the fog we never braved
will linger there
forcing fancy
onto what might have been

Float on by

I've started to drift through the day

like a balloon come unhooked

from a hapless child's hand

that spirals ever upward

until it vanishes

from the collective memory

and reappears again

only when another child

lets go

I am that act

that accidental release

of a mind breathing in

the newness of a world

that doesn't need the balloon

to ground it

that doesn't need so much hot air

tethered to its hand

pulling it into the beyond

Giving up

We were talking about god
lowercase god
because neither of us
had enough faith in the other
to admit we believed
neither of us
believed

I guess that's what god is
to me at least
a pact signed off
in lamb's blood
that an idea
is worth giving up doubt
and insecurity

They seem like easy things
to give up on
but try forty days
in a desert of happiness
and you'll long
for just a glimmer
of despair

The paradox
if you aren't averse to the word
is that as unpleasant
as uncertainty can be
to give up on doubt
is to give up on humanity
to give up on the need for ideas

Oh Mr. Wolf

Meet cute
predator
prey
he's gnashing on the bones
of previous meet cute
which in retrospect
wasn't so cute
just meat
she's smiling that smile
with chompers
bigger than his
and that's the joke
only he can't see
past those pretty blue eyes
lies that twinkle
twinkle
till they're the stars
of his sky
till she becomes the sun
that keeps him at bay
and we're back at
predator
prey

The Teaches of Peaches

Eating peaches at 1 a.m.

and letting the juice linger

in my beard

on the tips of my fingers

and the veins traipsing their way

down my arms

improbably blue at this time of night

in this blackest period

before sleep

before I get up

from my makeshift blanket chair

and wash away this primal goo

that tastes so good

Stop-Loss

I'm desperate for material

raw poetics gradually lost

as a digital clock loses time

an unexplained inevitability

of electricity

of light bulbs tied to kites

ideas that require a storm
to snap into being

I've been going over journals
papers and wires
where I've kept track
of combinations
star-crossed words
ready to die on poisoned pens
for the chance
to live together forever

It's just hard to kill
what's already undead
literal zombies
taking themselves seriously
as they shamble along
like soldiers
returned to war
until something breaks

All the news I need

Ninety percent chance of precipitation
while the rain begins to fall
and I'd like very much
in that moment
to be a meteorologist
who encourages people to tune in
to the sky
at six
and ten
and six again
and remind them
that when it looks like rain
it probably is
and that isn't such a bad thing
if you learn to forget your umbrella
and enjoy that illicit feeling
of arriving a mess
in puddle shoes
that squelch with each step
and gradually reduce the sanity
of those who would remain sane
remain removed
from the world around them
that cries
such wonderful tears
that spawn prismatic smiles
you could never find
on the weather report

It's dangerous to go alone

I'm checking my phone again

expecting a call

from someone who doesn't quite exist

expecting a text

with directions to find myself

expecting a life

I spend most days watching people

be people

and the important part of that

is it's plural

is the lack of definition for person

without relation

I know that I'm special

you're special

and without me you're nothing

and everything

and the undivided average

of a single term

What I'm trying to tell you

is important

what I'm trying to tell myself

is bullshit
because I'm telling myself
about loneliness

Gristle

I pick the bones clean
but leave the marrow
leave the last of the life
to decay naturally
in a landfill
somewhere

I make do with gristle
cartilaginous nonsense
that snaps
when I chew
and gives me an excuse
to floss

As I lay me down to sleep

This I pray
for the person I've passed
the past two weeks
on my way home from work
stretched out at midnight
on a cardboard bed
that gets tucked away come morning
come police
who bring with them laws
about where a person can sleep

This I pray
that their aversion to cardboard
doesn't equal my own
acquired after a month
in a repackaging plant
where I shucked off the shells
they've fashioned into slumber
till my hands chapped
and my mind
became just as dry

This I pray
because prayer absolves guilt
and compared to them
I've got it good
I've got this street corner
all staked out
where all the things I never wanted
sit around in cardboard boxes
that I'm afraid to get rid of
lest I lose my real home

Haimoon

Moon must be lonesome

orbiting round about earth

kissed only by the sun

Long Haired Freaky People

I'd just as soon

forget my roots

but the tips

continue to grow

to remind me

that caution

must be exercised

lest I end up

a follicle

a craterous creature
clinging to hair
like memory to time
a mobius strip
I can't shake
despite dancing
as the moon pulls
my hips
to and fro
and from this motion
my hair recedes
the tides recede
as these roots
drink in the sea

Dreadielocks

You reminded me of me
the way you kicked one foot
out over the curb
when you saw it was safe to cross
and let it dangle
till the stoplight agreed

You smiled when I caught you
when you caught me
smiling at catching you
in an honest moment
almost glib
in its honesty

I've taken to telling people
that my mustache
is an altruist
and my beard
a selfish bastard
lazily creeping cross my face

Like any story
told too many times
a part of it has become true
so when I smiled
it was because I recognized
your hair was similarly unselfish

And like Goldilocks
we work our way through stories
told to us as children
till we find one that suits us
that we get lost in telling
when it sounds just right

Phenomenological Photography

I can trace the course of us
in mental images
shuttered from larger landscapes
where we posed
where we reposed
where we found ourselves
referring to ourselves
as we

I met someone today
who wasn't you
who smiled at the world
at the right times
and I wondered if they
if she
belonged somewhere on my wall
somewhere down the line

It's not fair
to think these thoughts reach you
but they were never for you
they were for we
for the composite compositions
an element added
to time-lapsed lifetimes
trying not to blink

Noontime Starshine

You were gone
and whatever warmth
the world had in store for the day
descended
and in that word
was catharsis
in that moment
whatever we might become
reminded us
of what we are

I remembered a story
that I should like to share with you
in words
that might not reach
wherever it is you are
but will keep trying
long after I have given up
given in
to the call
of the sky above

It's about a boy
and a girl
that were destined to be stars
but didn't know it
so when they looked at each other
they saw a boy
and a girl
and the distant light of the stars
remained so very far away
buried behind their eyes

Something Else

That siren smile was something else

as voiced by my mother

because she's got the years

that I don't

to make it really mean something

and when I borrow her words

I like to present them            

in her voice

with the proper inflection

the proper genuflection

before the altar of that old love

that makes this new love

so very true

Pardon the preamble

but I was thinking

about the best way to tell you

that I wanted to stop

and let you convince me my thetan levels

were out of this world

but I knew if I pulled out my earbuds

that smile would be swallowed

and whatever spell

you placed upon me

would break

whatever love I felt

would crash upon the rocks

The world is made of moments

and I spend most of them

trying to string together

the ones just past

into some sort of mythology

that's just as crazy

as whatever it was you were selling

just as ludicrous

as the way I fall in love

with a pair of lips

lifted up like wings

to carry me away

from the whirlpool of the world

Spin me right round

She spins the world

round her hips

and much as I'd like to watch

I'm not the child I once was

who stared at the sun

because he was told not to

Each revolution brings

a responsibility

to turn my head away

before I start leering

to turn my heart away

before I start loving

I need to take the advice

of my six year old self

and simply tell this stranger

how her hula hooping

is making it okay

to stare at the sun again

Talking to celestial bodies

isn't my style though

so I'm left smiling at her

an aimlessly amiable smile

letting her know I'm watching
from so very far away

T-Shirt Idea

I don't take compliments

with a necessary degree

of detachment

so when you told me

you liked my shirt

I figured you liked my shirt

and wanted to sleep with me

but were socially obligated

to compliment my clothing

before we jumped into bed

It's ridiculous

in that way truth often is

in the way that people

pretend their words

have no meaning

beyond the present tense

where I'm struggling

to find a casual enough

thank you

to let you off the hook

I'd like to thank you

for offering fornication

in the space of four words

but there's a chance

slim though it may be

that maybe

you just liked me shirt

so thank you

for liking these words

spilling off my sleeve

Making this shit up

So
there's this girl
and I'd like to tell her
that she's pretty
only it's a lie
that I'd like to tell her

Would
it make you happy
if I were a liar
and this girl
wasn't this girl
but was you

You
might have caught on
if you weren't looking
through that lens
weren't looking to capture
missed connections

Smile
while I play it again
there's this girl
and I'd like to tell her
that she's pretty
only it's a lie

If this were for you
why is it about
the way I lie
about pretty girls
pretty yous
made up by me

Save the Strangers

You asked for a hug

which is one of those ordinary things

that strangers should share

but don't

because strangers are terribly busy

being strangers

I managed to be extraordinary

for a moment

managed to put aside

the strangeness of the moment

and give you an honest hug

or a half

I pulled away

too soon

pulled back into this stranger self

before you were done

before you got

whatever it was you needed

And you stumbled

like I let you down

which I did

so I apologized

apologized for being so strange

for not being enough

I thought to ask you to dinner

when I got home

to ask you about the children

they pay you to save

the little strangers
demanding to be fed

Selling Something

I get mad

when people suggest I should care

and don't provide

the requisite video montage

don't set

don't stop believing

to sync up with their spiel

I'm a modern day man

and demand

on-demand imagination

sentimental pornography

of pay-per-view children

with flies on their faces

and distended bellies

For a dollar a day

I could tend that belly

and get updated monthly

or weekly

or daily

on the child's blog

I ate today

I'd write in the comments

I ate today too

and leave my name

as anonymous

the dollar a day guy

who doesn't really care

but genuflects just the same

A Monologue For Two

Whenever we talk

I get the sense that neither of us

is listening

which is the best sort of talk

you can ask for

and receive

It's this sense

that neither of us really cares

what the other one is saying

that we're taking turns

talking

to ourselves

We're polite enough

to inject interjections

in the gaps

of the others' monologue

when it becomes necessary

to take a breath

But the words

have no real meaning

and the stories

end up back where they started

so when one of us stops

the other begins

It's not that we're boring

or overly narcissistic

we just like listening

to the sound of our voices

telling us things

we already know

Idyll Conversation

She's waiting for the question
close upon my lips
waiting for me
to set her answer in motion

The way she chews her words
makes me wonder
if this conversation
is instead regurgitation

It's almost charming
in a pastoral
cow chewing its cud
sort of fashion

Almost charming
in a cow taking a dump
sort of boredom
with what comes next

I'm happy for this moment
watching her mouth
waiting for me
to set her in motion

A Laughing Matter

I'm not supposed to be amused
but it's funny
to find all this sentiment
rising to the surface
some ten years down the road
some ten years removed
between then and now
and nothing has changed

There's an obligation
to mourn for all the dead
all those who continue to die
in the shortsighted pursuit of justice
of domestic tranquility
achieved through international hostility
as if the production of war
wasn't a joke in poor taste

I actually laughed
to see the president on youtube
to see the progress of our war
of terror
to see the vacant truth
that people are already disputing
that one more death
can be given meaning

This is our movement towards hope
hope for a future
where the dead don't lie nameless
away from their homes
where we don't demand bodies
to remind us we're alive
to borrow the sight
of those forever blind

Twinkle twinkle

We stumble into greatness

into the greatness of another

and for a moment

become the stars from our childhood

the heavenly bodies

not yet reduced by explanataion

to chemical combustion

or divine creation

not yet reduced

to stars

I wonder where you are

when I can't see the night sky

when I wake up

in the middle of the night

and there's not enough light

to make out your face

and there's not enough warmth

to make out your heart

and the inches that separate us

may as well be lightyears

As we fall into tomorrow

let us agree

to be the sun the other needs

to be the star up in the sky

that guides the other home at night

to be a galaxy built by two
that looks like me

and shines like you

to be the twinkling of an eye

that smiles softly as it dies

Criminal Mind

I've forgotten how we met

if I remembered to smile

when I first saw you

or simply stood there

sat there

sprawled there on the pavement

while you approached

the victim

in a crime of the heart

It might be a bit over the top

but since we don't talk anymore

you can't exactly object

if I take a few liberties

with what I don't remember

with the way your hair

would steal the sunshine

and your eyes

would steal the sky

I'm just making this up
making you up
as the patsy
who got me to take the fall
not for you
but because of you
because you let me love
the love I wanted
absent from yourself 

I know it's silly

but I still think of you

think that you

might still show up one day

and want to share a smile

might want to reminisce

and all I'll have to share

are lies

are the truth you couldn't see

Some Life Affirming Shit

I woke up with the sun

coming through the blinds

hitting me in the face

like a reminder

only my mother can deliver

when she asks

ever so casually

if I've been writing

My response to this act

of natural hostility

was to grab my pillow

and tunnel through the blankets

to where the sun

couldn't catch me

for at least a few hours more

a few conversational beats

I've tried to explain

that every time she asks

it makes me want to give up

to embrace mediocrity

but there's not enough truth

to even convince myself

so I reassure her that I'm dabbling

I reassure myself

It's not like this is easy

like pulling my personal life

through the word mill

makes things any better

just more readily accessible

to those who want to care

to those like my mother

who want so badly to believe

Fucking Snowflakes

I'm watching the steam rise

from another mug of tea

and wondering if the way it rises

is unique

like a snowflake

and if like a snowflake

no one cares

I'm sitting across from someone

somewhere

some place

that I probably couldn't find again

unless I googled it beforehand

not that it was hard to find

it's just hard to care

I'm waiting for this to be over

whatever this is

this conversation

or prelude to copulation

mutual masturbation

self-ejaculatory congratulation

for linguistic sensation

I'm dying on the inside

and on the outside too

but no one seems to notice

so I'll leave this nowhere

for somewhere else

for another mug of tea
and another snowflake

Sock Monkey

She told me I was silly

which I translated to endearing

but probably meant silly

probably meant I'm leaving you

because that's what she did

that's what she was going to do

when she told me I was silly

I blame my sock monkey

which probably sounds silly

but inanimate objects

are altruistic black holes

ready to take on burdens

that we can't bear ourselves

toilets for our emotional feces

It's easier to forget her

knowing that I'm not to blame

for mistaking the way she said love

as the way that I say love

as the way I still love

the way she called me silly

while wearing a shit eating grin

Gumshoe

I've been reading mysteries
where the gruff gumshoe
turns his back
on the crazy dame
and lets her know
with an over-the-shoulder
dollface
that no how
no way
is she pulling the trigger

The problem
if you want to call it that
is that I'm the dame
and it kills me
when you walk away
but the bullet
in the chamber
is just so much lead
waiting to drag
the both of us down

Sirens announce
the police have arrived
to arrest me
for falling in love
with the only one capable
of making me culpable
in a crime
I didn't commit
a crime of inaction
with my prints on the gun

Fruit of the Wound

We don't ask to be born

to have our feeding tubes removed

and be cast out from comfort

by those who carry us

This animosity we harbor

is prenatal in nature and natural

like the guttural cries we make

as we're washed out in blood

It's a case where cage-free

leaves an unpleasant after taste

a reminder we're embryos eating eggs

that we're still trapped in limbo

Parasites who pretend at altruism

we bear affected affection

with a grin as often as we can

until we simply cannot

We don't ask to die

to have our feeding tubes removed

and be cast out from comfort

by those who carry us

Brother where are you?

We've been through this

a hundred times

a thousand

in all those gaps

in the conversation

in all those breaks

between the lines

in all those absences

Something is missing

and I wonder if it's you

I wonder where you are

and when you left

because I never saw you go

you were just gone

and I followed in your footprints

but I've got bigger feet

I've filled in the outlines

of where you were

with where I've gone

I've superimposed myself

on phantoms of you

and together

we've walked through the world

to come out the other side

I used to be so sure of you

so sure you were a you

someone I could use

to construct a me

so sure that I chased

that fleeting hope

to recognize myself

in the eyes of another

I guess I'm all grown up now

or stupid enough

to want to be a grown up

to want an identity

of my own

there's a long way to go yet

but I know I'll get there

knowing you came this way

Oranges

She found me in the kitchen

squeezing the life

out of some oranges

and wondered aloud

that perennial why

when there was juice in the fridge

I thought for awhile

my back still turned

my hands still busy

with the business

of such sweet reduction

and had a thought

It isn't the taste

or the texture

or the satisfaction of the work

it's the fact that you're here

and the perennial why

has an answer

So whatever I'm doing

I'm doing because of you

because you're here

and here is better than there

there where you used to be

you who I love or whatever

She found me in the kitchen

and squeezed life

through my midriff

squeezed love

from where her why

had opened me up

Satellite

I've been told that I should be lonely

never quite so directly

but never cleverly enough

to disguise the basic sentiment

the basic resentment

that there's a chance I could happy

without so much human gravity

keeping me tethered to the ground

I want to explain that I'm a satellite

and every night you can tune in

to whatever signal I'm broadcasting

but you have to make the effort

because I'm up here in space

and can't commute to work

so unlike most of humanity

I revolve around the world

Being lonely isn't a problem

when I can wind up in any home

knowing it's where I belong

because someone there needs me

and barring bad weather will find me

will find what they need of me

and release my signal

for others to pick up

Pass me by

I like to smile at the truth
smile and wave
not anything grand
just one of those little salutes
those private smiles
that are familiar stranger's due

It isn't that we couldn't be
something more than we are
it's just a lot of work
it's secret handshakes
and private jokes
and giving up control

So pass me by
smile and wave
or nod your head
and pretend you know
these words were written
expressly for you

I'd send them your way
but I can't seem to reach you
and don't know they'd touch you
so I'll leave them here
where you might find them
as a reminder

The past catches us up
or catches up to us
and we look for the truth
to tell us what is right
as if it will save us
as if it will set us free

There is truth in my smile
in these lines I made for you
there is truth in my wave
with this last greeting that I leave
these truths belong to you now
and are passing me by

Muscle Memory

My hands are knotted

from wringing out memories

putting pen to paper

and inking your outline

so I can remember

what you mean to me

My arms have atrophied

from lack of use

so forgive me

for hugging you so limply

forgetting that some things

are worth holding on to

My love is an ember
in the torch of another
and it's slow in passing
slow in filling out its flame
slow in warming up
the muscle of my heart

Valentine

Be mine

but to thine own self be true

so if that makes you

you

then be you

and let me carry you with

when I go

let me carry you

when I stay

when twilight

turns to candlelight

turns to midnight

turns to dawn

I'd like to find you in my dreams

and find you again

when I wake

I'd like wake up

finding you

not because you are lost

but because I like you better

when you can be found

when you becomes true

and reminds me

that me

is just another you

a first

a second

a third person pronoun

that slips between tenses

so I loved you

and I love you

and best of all

I will love you

because no matter who you are

you are you

and as long as you remember

to be true

I'll carry you with me

I'll carry you

and even if you won't be mine

I'm yours

Wheatstacks - The Art Institute of Chicago

I was back in the Monet room

and I always wind up there

because they were your favorites

because you liked staring at bunches of wheat

I fancy the way they only come together

when you look at them from a certain distance

and even then you aren't sure

kind of like us

We've never made the sort of sense

that most people can appreciate

at any sort of distance

even with the proper perspective

They can't get past the fact

we're content with some wheat

a couple of trees

maybe a little house way in the back

It's as if that isn't enough

that such simple things

lack some necessary dramatic element

we've neglected in our lives

Maybe there's some truth to that

we've been staring at the same things for so long

that it's hard to say for sure

what exactly we're seeing anymore

There's more I could say

but it suddenly doesn't seem so important

it's just nice to know you're here with me

watching paint dry as the seasons change

Leaving on a Jet Plane

I should be up there in the air

but instead I'm here

trying to remember to breathe

telling myself

that there's nothing I could do

no words I could say

that would bring him back again

back from whatever choice

he decided to make

I know you might not need to hear it

but this is my obligation

not of duty

but love

because love is all I'll ever have

and the only way to let you know

is to tell you

that when you need me

I'll be back again

The Descent

The sky was a puzzle today
with all the pieces clouds
not quite connected
but looking as if they might
as if there was a chance
they'd get put back together
and those soft edges would disappear
those painter's brush-strokes
blurring into a seamless whole

I wonder sometimes
about skies like this
about how they fit
in this world of puzzles
where connections run rampant
but only connect
when some heavenly motion
pushes them into each other
pushes them through each other
till they are transformed
and descend

The Let Go

I've been strangling myself with what ifs

but you won't find any marks on my neck

because questions don't leave marks

They slip into the body through osmosis
because they're fluid like water
and like water they can wear anything down

I've been seeking answers as antidotes
but alchemy abides by a law of equivalents
and I can only exchange more questions

That's the very nature of a circle
it has no clear beginning or ending
but that has never stopped it from existing

I've been learning the beauty of letting go
that's the only real answer I've found
to these questions I never wanted to ask

A Day at the Beach

I've got sand in my veins

and I pump glass

with the muscles

of my heart

it makes me breakable

with sticks and stones

it makes me breakable

but even broken

I can reflect

the light of the sun

I've got sand in my veins

and I build sandcastles

behind my eyes

so when I cry

it's like the ocean

is washing away my work

it's like the ocean

has come to remind me

that all castles

are made of sand

I've got sand in my veins

and I bleed time

like a broken hourglass

only it's not so bad

because I'm self-perpetuating

and can turn myself around

because I'm self-perpetuating

but know enough to know

I wasn't made

to last forever

Haircutters: A Lust Story

I get my haircut every three months or so

and if you're a poetic type

you might call my sensibility seasonal

but if you're a haircutter

there's not as much poetry

just clean lines and the same old story

a bunch of fools in lust

with the feel of your hands

as they try to staunch the flow of time

turn back the inevitability of hair growth

and spin your silver into gold

and your gold into fuchsia

because their philosopher's stone

came from Hot Topic

and it has powers that leave alchemists

scratching their bald heads

heads that think they're so smart

they've outgrown the need for hair

and that might be true

but they haven't outgrown

the need for haircutters

for this subset of the human species

with purple streaks in its hair

that asks you existential questions

about how you want to look

and who you want to be

and expects you to know the answers

because they've got it figured out

and even if they don't

they're always ready to change

to shave it all off

and grow into something new

Love Quadrangle

Love is a point

an answer to a question

we didn't want to ask

but found leaving our lips

like do you

or could you

and what if I do

because the question

implies we don't know

and admitting ignorance

isn't something we can train for

it's something we evolve

Love is a line

an eventual horizon

we learn to stop pursuing

and start appreciating

for it's capability to conform

to the mountains we meet

and the valleys we walk

for it's willingness to bend

around impossible corners

and cross incalculable divides

only to reassure us

that it cannot be broken

Love is a quadrangle

a courtyard where we dance

to the music of the spheres

our imperfect motion

a tribute to imperfect dimensions
that we move through together
because by ourselves
we are merely points
answers that must be strung together
to create lines
horizons that need perspective
for love to take shape

Hurt so good

It hurts so bad

to tell you

I don't want to keep writing

to tell you

I don't want to keep these kids

that I wish they had never been born

but they were

and now their lives

are filled with neglect

and now their lives

are filed away on a hard drive

and the only thing left to do

is a memory wipe

but it's not that simple

because I love them

and it's never that simple

because I love you

and love is never simple

because simple things don't kill people

and love is killing me

My heart

doesn't know when to beat

my heart

seems to think arrhythmia

is a rythm

and days go by

where I can barely take a breath

and days go by

where I forget to breathe

so I might be dead already

but I wouldn't know

what it feels like

I wouldn't be able to translate death

for you

because you're so alive

in my heart

because you'll be alive

when I take my final breath

so I might be dead already

but that doesn't change a thing

It hurts so bad

to write these words

it makes me sick

to write these words

and file them under

maybe

because maybe is a baby

who wants to say yes

but hasn't learned to talk yet

like me

who hasn't learned to talk

just to file words

under maybe

just to file away words

like love

to put them in their incubators

and watch them grow

to put them in my heart

and make me hurt

hurt so good