weapon

you present your weapon,
it speaks only punctuation,
sigh here, dive there. your tiny body
surpassed. you project this apocalypse
of power, small gas station parking lot.
so many times the world ended---
we were floored. knife reflects light.
i know these are people, living things, despite.
we've all got cities, countries, pets.
my own paradise shifting away with
contact, the cold contents lost, smuggled.
no one is a thief just like no one is a
dead person but we all die. weapon,
weapon, weapon. where aren't you?
i can't hide, i could barely die.

bread crumb

an ode to the white and why me
play the planetary card -
a room full of chairs, and nobody.
there were clouds in a sky
a generation began new
the earth itself is not so far away and
we have slightly splurged our way here.
made toast of the bread crumb trail -
there were clouds in a sky.

the place sparkles

can we paint the place sparkles?
light for the universal reverend-
the gravity of giants fell against the loudness, blues,
in strings as the sound of flight, scales of ice
and the jazz chants toward the spirits of the
season. every thing on us is magic apparel, peach rain,
creating juice, a tea with one body. but not
one mind- what differs and makes us melon
choly- in the way of situations we're presented.
signals are searching for holes in our sky-
our great grand scape, a right of passage
for all that the lunar locked here. we are all effect-
can we paint the place sparkles now?
what dance do we do when it's done?

bliss

on my way to night, not home,
just alone, which is home. turn signal, sky opens up,
blue to all the pale, gentle things again. it's
paved empty for me, just me, i sit here travelling.
being alone is the ultimate pleasure. street lights go off, see-
robots already have taken over the world.
no action, no sound at all; decadence of self.
finally i know this space. i looked for nothing,
i found a lot. we rest every day- each
and every day we rest. nothing is happening,
cops are lined up along every curb. nothing is
happening. i might love you; it doesn't matter.
nothing is happening, nothing.

blood brother

i am a frank whisperer in this, a
life. we do undress our deserving.
i want what you want: to study
a bug outside. to have a freedom
that leaves with. tell me what my effect is,
on you and on all things. i have
permapermission, i need to know.
my happiness is mutual, and exclusive.
a laxative form of the timing. why, please.
won't i know when to get love, nearer to
this rancid, wild caught wish? there are
so many corners i can cut comfortably.
do you know me? what is that? with
even better thinking to do. locking up
a past i did not choose either. how could i
or can i- just locks. still there are
noises, narrations in this sharp nostalgia.
promises we must keep supplemented to
remember. and with that, whether or not
it did a thing, is tenacity, a faith in
the minimum, the half-ordered,
the cut forth blood brother. just remind
me why and i'll come running.

to quote the dj

the audience, the repelling audience
comes way, reaching its slow crawl to choice.
repression is a form of the same intense,
forbidden craters, the size of their moons. hello,
we happen to be your culture, we cry out, indecent.
hungry as kids. then we devour one another
for the problems sake. fog machine, faint spark light,
the stage waits her. but what do you see? to do
what you see? nerves, fixations on nerves.
belly the beguiled, sight of incentives and
the belligerent sanity of the believed?

predator

these are the days you fly away from.
i know you've built your case, escaped us now,
gone riding your dreams of flying. i know more.
you are smiling. you're laughing like me.
you are crazy, shaken and riddled with laughter
like vines that take over empty cathedrals.

you walked me through the prayer circle at
the old church you remembered that night.
we laughed when you led me right to it. our dreams
were never as faultless as your's.
i needed clarity, but i prayed for you. you

are a cartoon self in a mess of understood magic.
your great capability. you hear chords in c major,
faint and lovely, always approaching, beginning again.
do you love me there? do i pass the pipe?
when i dream of you, i am looking up from
the bottom of the pool, bright, the taste of chlorine
that never goes down. i seem to be half-kid, forever.
i am all water ballads and sesame seeds, i'm just full of it.
i don't wonder anymore- it is perfect
where you are. your drug

is fashionized, a bathroom vanity, addicted to you.
revolt of demands, welcome violation to
any mystery. it is, and you are, absolutely,
more beautiful there. i know but

is this fear mine to keep now, predator? i know and i
know more. you are a memory of shields,
you as your's and mine. we have
the deep medecine of imagining in this world.
and you have this, evidence for a proposal, man
beside you, whistling for your clone of a coma ear.
he is your new white knight, shimmering and strange.
childhood accomplice. he fights me off
with the dragon of the day. you're his
scooter selling princess, teeth gleaming at all
the right white. we wait.

we're waking up in a world real with officiallys, a
soundtrack that just tells us. we brush the taste away.
cigarettes, meals we don't really like. ah,
we feel very right, though, about not enjoying them.
we get our milk from this other place. maybe
we wish we could keep from holding our
presence. i raise my hand; i have to make up for
the understanding. i wish i were flying- i am
the one who has to live, and live with that joy.