i wear my feet down as though
sandpapered through pebbled
ground to rebuild the skin in
thicker measure and learn to
run as my great great great
grandfathers did because some
guy in a book somewhere told
me it would change my life
it has.
i wear my feet down as though
sandpapered through pebbled
ground to rebuild the skin in
thicker measure and learn to
run as my great great great
grandfathers did because some
guy in a book somewhere told
me it would change my life
it has.
and throw it away,
this wine won’t live to see another day
because there is what I suppose is called a need,
a need with which I have no wish to plead.
the sun shone bright,
making a most unfitting spectacle
of itself and of us all,
refusing to cooperate,
refusing to mirror our despair.
today it rained;
today it poured;
today drenched us to the core
quenching our inner light yet again
in memories and past remorse.
He requests the sound of her voice
to pacify him; there is no peace this winter.
She makes to speak but falters.
It is not her place, if you ask her,
to bring her love to bear against his demons.
Perhaps he will plead his case.
Perhaps her ears will be deaf.
There is no justice, they have both
come to know. There is only what
little they can scratch out
of the rocks and trees and dirt,
before the eyes of the universe,
and hope no-one is watching.
Once, they would share their scratchings.
Once is rarely always. In her eyes
there is no exception here. In her eyes
his are but a pittance. Hardly worth
the time to cast away.
He waits.
She will dismiss.
There is no peace in this winter.
You spend the first
twenty minutes of
the party sipping a
warm beer
and reading comics
in the kitchen
In the Solar System
the Sun and celestial
objects are bound to
one another by
gravity
You finally detach yourself
and roam through
the living room,
squinting just a little
bit through the
lingering
smoke
In the Solar System
small bodies such as
comets, dust and
centaurs travel
freely between
regions
You stroll around the
backyard for a while,
kicking abandoned bottles
and exploring the
sad looking vegetable
garden
The area beyond Neptune
is still largely unexplored
It appears to consist of
small planets composed
of rock and ice.
You return to the living
room and walk directly over
to where I’m standing
We nod for a bit to some
alt-rock track I don’t know the
name of then
leave together
immediately
The Sun is the
Solar System’s star
and produces temperatures
great enough to
sustain nuclear
fusion.
you should be concerned
about the grapes drying up
in your orchard as the heat-
wave creeps towards your
summer home
you should be concerned
about not remembering the
science behind convection
as the particles around you
start to accelerate
and when your stupid old a/c
finally needs replacement
and your help draws their
pentions, you’ll find no-one
around to sell you new models
you’ll sit between the rows
of brittle grape vines, a beacon
of passivity, greed, and
ignorance; dry bones for
the archaelogist of 2mrw
If ‘expository’ is a shield of sorts
than I wish that I could
see you hold you feel you
every day every god damn day
with your smile (the real smile)
and your laugh (when you’re not
trying to make an ass of me)
and the strange sort of feeling
that plagues guys like me
about girls like you
but still behind a shield
they call ‘expository’,
so all things said and done
you’re not allowed to
know you know
even if you read it
stretching words over your feelings is a mask that don’t quite fit spent tuesday sleeping off wednsday’s dreams and here i am friends in bottles stasis pod on, cutting the sugar out of my diet hoping for the devil out of my head
Be it sunlight or stage light
(or stars for that matter)
when it’s in your eyes,
it’s hard to appreciate
the view
(and there’s always a view)
Sore to the touch
red skin stretched over
bones and hearts and
nervous systems
hoping against hope
they won’t be touched
just yet
Calm me down.
Grab my shoulders and
duck me under water
just long enough to
shock out the shock.
A slap in the face
A punch in the gut
Something
Anything
To slow the roll
(as they say on the streets)
Calm me down
or however
will we get this whole
mish-mashed
drunk-on-the-job
sort of thing
straightened out?
the firefly lights
then fades–
we wait.
you woke up and ate eggs at
the bar in your summer home
on the beach
the sun pouring in and bouncing
off of your white sheets
and you must think it mad
the things i think to think
about,
and purely so
but those babies in the garbage
why,
they’re all miles away
outside of your bubble,
anyway.
i never thought i’d live to see the day i drove from clouds to sun through 13 hours of straight misery pass graveyards in fields still growing grain and corn in first, second, third, and fifth gear because fourth broke down somewhere along the way and we had to stop and pull a crazy maneuver in the hills of some asian country we could swear looks just like the baja to turn around roll down the hill 10 kilometers to a guy who said he could fix it, couldn’t, and then promised he could in three days, or we could simply continue without a fourth gear.
never thought i’d see the day where i moved to my dream home in my dream country doing my dream job and getting friggin paid to dream of growing a kingdom that’s not my own, of which i’m only a citizen trying to be faithful to something more than dream.
the day came
and praise my heavenly father
my Lord and God Jesus Christ
He brought me here to dream
dreams far too big for one man
alone and pray for change in
the lives of 9 million people
and the future of this country.
with its sweet lilting voice
i have succumbed
to the lull of summer
and the interminable desire
to hibernate until winter
(or at least fall)
when i shall again arise
in magnificent chapluzkian glory
refreshed by the cold,
rejoicing in the blizzards,
no longer oppressed by unending heat.
If I am ever to look sidelong again
I shall need a pair of glasses with
little mirrors on them, and a bit of
extra cash, as the word on the street is
the current administration
is not long from taxing these sidelong
glances of ours. But then, I’m all
for tax evasion in some regards,
so tell me,
Do these glasses make me look
sophisticated or
silly or
what?
it seems to wrap around the parts
that would best help to get away
the throat
the legs
the wrists
and covered eyes
but careful to avoid the teeth
people-bites can be pretty nasty
And so
the chance of self-exorcising slip
but if you don’t owe no money
you don’t need no money
and the tentacles loosen
just enough to move a wrist
and an eye peeks out
and a slip
and that people bite is pretty nasty
But it screams from anger
not from pain
escape is all it tried to stop
and there you go
but now you’re leaving
all the other folks behind
on the butterfly bush:
four
butterflies
Come in!
Come in!
It’s so good to see you
(and you are)?
Oh, yes, Carol’s son
(You don’t look like her,
but I’ll take your word).
So where do you live
(will i approve)?
Oh, do you know so and so
(the drunk!)?
No? Do you know so and so
(the bastard!)!
Now that’s too bad
(I guess you’re alright after all);
go get some pie before it’s all gone dear
(off to test someone else).
I can not fathom
Do you take short steps on your long walks?
How shallowly do you cut
when you cut the hairs on your scalp?
What of the grass out back?
or the weeds?
I scarcely hear a word in tune
but I’ve brought with, a pitchfork,
though perhaps better a tuning-pipe,
but that doesn’t make sense either
Walk faster
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