Ask The Host About The Next Show

Some mornings I feel the dealer taking his shift,
But there isn't really much that I do.
You've gotta earn it. Because right now,
You've only got one thing coming for you.
Reservations were left on the table,
But you thought it was an appetite to hold back.
If you take away the swine that left,
Well, you have nothing to count on.
You are a silent film that kept the sound on,
Because you thought you were ready,
But the reel spun on like a violent storm
And your head spun with bloody eddies.

How the Day Smears Cross the Sky

And we waited for things to happen
At three times the normal speed,
Just to slow it down and repeat it.
We wondered how we could possibly keep it
Just the way it was.
So we scraped are knees on T.V. screens,
Running too close to a cathode reality,
But the skin never seemed to break
And the grass didn't even come to stain.
All the while, you were holding your breath
Like you were finally going under,
Like the chill that crawled up your spine
Was the counterpart of summer.
The corner was once much warmer
When the walls weren't afraid to touch,
But they get sharper once they're older
And the contact becomes too much.

Sticker

There were all sorts of levers and traps in your accented genuinity.
Every strap that held your paling wrists down
Hugged your skin against bone and swelled your hand,
Little red blood cells swirled like velvet goldfish
Breathing a purpose they didn't think twice to keep in mind.
With so much uncertainty in your fabrications and designs,
Your names were threaded with black sharpie lines,
And if I ever had a chance to fix it, I'd do everything the same.
If I ever wake up again, I'd ask you to repeat your name.

Flat Spin

Those cards made to perfect circles
Were laid to overcome certain hurdles,
But were never mine to play.
Yet there they were, displayed on the table
All under my name, the one you would say
When the dizzy night called upon it.
I cannot recall whether the fate was fixed
By a slopping pendulum that swung through time
Or if the odds just made it all seem odder
And uneven beats left one's teeth against another's,
But I've grown up playing the ebony keys,
And tonight I was singing something darker in between.

Hours, M.D.

We run the week along the perforation
And break the leaking bonds of sleep.
To slip into my most comfortable clothes
Is to drag the words against year ears,
Tired sarcasm from brass lips
With only as much power and presence
As the hollow instrument that bellows.
Wake up and say hello,
Shake up the still, now seemingly dead
From the skepticism of an even spread.

Lion Limbs

To conquer the tangles of relapse,
You pushed your tongue against the wall
And relaxed, soaking consonants and vowels.
You were prey to all your petty whims,
You hid your pride like lion limbs.
I took sips of sweet lemonade
And bathed in the clarity.
The citrus made my eyes red,
Evicted former levity.
You make every sentence long
For the sake of life's brevity.
Every angle is accelerating,
Concentric made your bed in me.

Social Reform (Base Theory)

Little creatures leave bubbles on the surface
That scatter my attention like infinite sands
Blurred by infinite salt within the imminent sea.
We're wearing our collared summertime clothes
And reenacting our favorite parts of the NT;
Our new skin plays with the water tension.
You read me like a book, I read your reviews...
Who knew a champion could sit so far away?
Coy with a baseball bat
And lashes that stuck together like gum.
If we're all going to hell
We might as well walk on the sun.

Set The Table With Tuning Forks

I like the way you give up on life
And how the text screen breaks out in color.
This is the way in code we speak,
Whose encryption is a description
Of how well those secrets will keep.
You were contained in rainbows
That broke on the shoreline,
You are the sun that drowns by night
You are the sound of shattered light.

That 90's Punk Rock Feeling

You breathe your own bitter beat and you try to put the songs down,
But you realize you don't know what memory you're looking for.
The titles become lost possessions with their rights still intact
For the chorus that will live forever to never give the coda back.

Listening To Our Bad News

And I wave to our past with a severed left hand,
The ghost feeling when it gets caught on your shoulder.
Maybe it was kept inside my sleeve to keep me quiet
And stop the bleeding of words onto a number of media,
The paper that tapers off in an incomplete thought
Or the plastic pulled apart and distraught, but store-bought.
We're either cutting down hurried trees or drilling up buried oil,
But I'm okay with how the world burns at the end of the day,
Because I remember when you used to talk to me like a stranger
And I am clever enough to keep myself out of danger like so.

Bomb Dropper Mystery Video Screen

Count the curses stuck between your teeth
As hot air gushes out of your mouth.
Tonight, I corrupt my childhood with
The reason I don't know why I'd ever go so far.
Remember this is something you live with forever,
You'll feel surprised when your heart drops
And your numb hand is on the lever.
For something I put all my weight into,
I have never felt more heavy,
And when a glutton's stomach rumbles
It is the rubble coming down around me.
You speak well with your eyes closed
Your voice floats steadily through the wires,
The glass keeps me tethered to my misperception
That the deception comes from preaching to the choir.

Pacifists and Computational Tanks

When the day met you on the other side,
It was with warmth and a memory in storage.
The sky turned into a boundless vineyard
And the sun crushed grapes against your perfect skyline.
The cityscape began to remelt into the river the was reborn
As a promise you had sworn to yourself in sun-dried naïveté.
So you felt compelled to do it once again
Under the trusses of your fading consciousness.
You plucked your ribs apart, still somewhat in tune
And pulled that warmth in that never felt too soon.

Liquid Stressors

Swallowing keeps me speechless when my mouth isn't full
Hands cover my mouth as I argue with the atomic clock,
Waiting for it to divide my time peacefully,
But instead I am popping red opal fruits like pills.
I think I'm going for the sugar high,
But my wings are scrapping the icy sidewalk.
Since when were we expected to walk so imbalanced?
Since when was I suspect to have such kind of talents?
I'm just starry-eyed boy working off of dim moonlight
Who was told he could shine, but just never too bright.

Getting That Intuition

I've got an excuse in every pocket that keeps my hands dry.
Each breath for every word only seems to melt snow,
Your tongue's knots come untied from the most intimate speech
And your thread loses count as you unravel out of sleep.
You sink into the sweet objectification, an oil painting of fruits
More valuable than reality and the calamity that is truth.
I taste the sugar crusted over on the corners of my lips,
The frigid air could never shake me from your mercenary quips.

Unscathed

And everybody kept calm as the plane went down.
Cigarette butts were mashed on the oxygen bar
And an occupied room made magic with smoke and mirrors,
But little did I know that I wouldn't
An that there was no way to flush it out.
The sky was jammed with cotton like a pill tube
And our ears popped like the cylindrical nirvana
That kept us irrelevant to gravity's intentions.
A body that bathed in scentless lavender
Was all tied up with a symmetric bow,
For a gift best left ungiven.
A day that went by just comfortably fine.
A final descent that was inertially driven.

It's okay if you're still searching.

Throwing down some heavy vignette,
We push inebriation to its darkest edges.
It fit like a sock and you rocked down the hall
Like your parents would never come home,
But now you're the own that has grown.
The toast clinks when you sink into glass
That makes a delicate spread of time's passage,
When you see what's been running around inside
What mixes to make the lightheaded stage.
The bed is under hot focused flares
And I'm igniting in my sheets.
I'm working for a dream,
Because don't wanna wake up to a nightmare,
And if I'm burning up, I'm just gonna climb higher.

Trailing Peace

We're coming up to the junction now,
Without a function of how fondness relates to freight.
I'm dragging two fingers to keep my weight down
While I'm going up to make sure all the doors are flush.
No, we don't want them to see what we've been hiding
Whose vibrations arouse a most precise collision,
That annihilate in silence with defiance, god-given.
A temporal temperance meets a deviation
Pushing clocks against a rail hurling steel at him.
Two fighting siblings and a mediator, respectively:
Optimism, Pessimism, and Realism.

Coupled Copies

There is no right when no one is left,
Hands down, you've been disarmed.
They've got a good balance,
Girls up front with upright backs.
I'm trying to avoid every question
But frankly, no one ever asked.
Instead we got past the full awkwardness
In three-fourth's time, with a cheap disco ball
And a stranger against my chest.
We never made a name to remember,
Not even a chance to tell each other our lies.
Our clips floated down from a gunslinger's song
A harmonica drawn to etch away a shallow night.

The Water Bomb

The genesis lives on as the remnants of today,
The rain that comes in and washes more away.
When we met, it avoided every vein,
Contested by the blood invested in me
From bets that went beyond the meaning of my name.
But we are the filter between heaven and hell,
And we grow from splitting water and ejecting every shell.
Their exit makes an open wound between my lips,
A turbulent trip for a ghost to spend the evening
Whose deltas fracture rivers to dead leaves on a tree;
If this life is current, don't let it lose me to the sea.

Im

I don't remember how I got here.
Deep in conversation in the wading pools,
Scratching the surface from the rough edges
That kept me cautiously inside.
Say something to me again,
Speak your vocabulary in oscillations
That hug and confine your vocal range
As well as your lungs will let you,
Still trapped in their local cage.
I'm not one for commitment but
I'm glad that this happened before the ring.
The travesty of stacking paper
Is a house made all the same.
This is my carbon fascination
Committing completely to the game.

Remelted Iron Core

This throwback is being thrown back too far
For a boomerang that didn't ring
And knocked straight through the door,
The thunder to our reign.
When it comes down, we are all liquid
When it soaks through the soil,
I promise we'll be in deeper.
We'll be up against the door
Locked, warm, kept by our keeper.
It is our imprisoned leap
That makes the climb up so much steeper.

The Dampening System

A shower restarts the cycle,
A new agenda and a new outline
Mapped out on a foggy mirror
Overlapped on your own blurring projection
As it dissolves into steam.
The floor plan's irrelevance comes to light,
When you're pressed tightly on the ceiling,
Condensing all your feelings into drops
That fracture the incandescence completely.
The cycle burns the indescribable color on your closed eyelids,
That exists, even when it comes back together in the end,
Warmth, blind guidance's reassurance,
Reaching out with sincerity,
But not necessarily seeking out a meaning.
This existence is only human, the fascination of human being.

Need To Deliver

The ground bends to come up to me,
Look at what it's giving up.
Her jaw dropped in accommodation
To the words that were spoken,
Accelerating realism and spectra
That only dissolved in the end.
This storm is a constant thunder
That shakes the amnesia
From the stakes put in the ground.
Tie me down to a parachute
And tuck me safely in the boat,
Perspective's tearing straight in half,
But the captain's mouthing, "Go."

Saving Ephs

Of the things that went out the window when I walked out the door,
Some never change from what made them original.
The conditional state is traditional,
But I must say I've done the same to you.
And it's a thing you hate to see
When you find the things you buried in the backyard,
With prefixes that fixed them to the ground
When gravity didn't know what to do with them.
I'll make my dream and I'll take you with me,
But you have to promise not to fall asleep in the car.
My brother's blood was on my arm and it was still warm,
The salt chalked over from something he would die for.
I regret having left before he could catch his breath,
But this was something that could never be let go.

Quiet Black Ice

Take a stone tablet and you can build a society based on rules,
But you couldn't build a roof.
You couldn't give me proof,
Because your touch was no longer muscle memory,
Your spirit was a conjecture and your body was its projection.
Baby, it's exactly what you are.
Being reserved won't give you your protection
From those wide-sighted racketeers,
Those garbage can bangers narrowing truth down in your ears,
And facetiousness won't put the gavel in your hand,
This is not wisdom, it's getting older with a period at the end.

Perspective Shooter

It took years in powder smoke to find out
That six goes into pairs,
And you'll watch them break sequentially.
Don't pick your bullets off the ground.
As tempting as the shell games may be,
The revolver must serve its purpose
And move on.

any more, any more | ever know, ever know

I heard one voice spill her sermons like a swollen sea,
A lullaby that smothered the sand repeatedly,
And tickled my toes like well buried weeds.
My guidance closed their eyes and fell asleep in genuflection
But I could still see your face in the marble's reflection
As I pressed my head against the pew,
Wondering when it would go through as you did with ease
When you as teased the most pleasant frequencies.
But no matter how many words filled my hands
Clasped tightly, these knees wouldn't unbuckle.
This condensation was the devil's kiss
Of my own, he wanted to bathe me.
That salt on my skin was the fresh water's sin
And your rivers and lakes wouldn't save me.

Wood Grain Bursting

How much can you push up against it?
Is it cracking under or clapping for your achievements?
This is the agreement between cartilage and shaky air.
I hope if this finds me, it won't leave me there,
Perusing between doors and walls unknown
That twist to sides in or out of windows.
Let's not look up and just walk through slow,
It's teasing to look back on splinters
In the winter, it's easy to catch a cold.
Have faith, see straight, motion sickness will fade,
We're bumming through the thickness, we're coming of age.

A Key And An Open Door

I walked out into the night,
There was a cold sting to meet my eyes.
I think God was erasing the world he made,
A perfectionist on an asymptotic slide.
I felt the ground below me give way,
But I wouldn't fall all the way down.
No, I couldn't fall all the way through.
I was stretching out my DNA
And walking up the double-helix case,
It was time to find what I was made of,
What I could break from pushing gas in neutral.
This might be the end, but it sure is damn beautiful.

Minor Fifteen

I've got this quiet window seat,
Let's make something out of it
I'm facing, giant faces meet,
Let's take nothing, proud of it.
You've got this style I can't defeat,
So I think I'll take a stand.
Six legs to four, it's up in the air now
And the wind is still invisible, visceral, amazing.
I follow your imprints in powder,
I measure the power in your step,
I am tripping. I am dripping with eyes glazed over,
Sun melting the snow to bring in new trees.
We're all in that paper chase.
A good spring will put green on that face, you'll see.

Of the things that were supposed to be done

We're getting into classics
We're getting into trouble
We're getting into double digits
Before the lights turn out,
And that's a promise I will put in the ring.
We worship the pyramids
But we turn them into diamonds,
Then regard smaller gods
Until it's all gone in communion.
I twice sunk a plastic ship
And held onto the table for stability,
The PNW and the SoCal swagger,
A holy dagger in the name of the trinity.

Lost On A Gateway Somewhere Out In Wisconsin.

We both stood on the dock, the devil's prongs
That decayed into your childhood proof.
It kept you safe until you let me pick at your heavy splinters
That night you willingly surrendered,
Fighting back only with the short breaths you had to give.
The moon stumbled over the water
Racing to get to my eyes with a most distant stare.
I would be out before the end,
Only kept awake by the pricks of pine.
I sunk my greatest wish to the bottom of the lake
That every new year doesn't come after December,
But if I could even remember,
If I could even remember...

Tremolo, Treble Low

I was scared when your frame faded into soft flames
And was made into a bad trick played in good spirit.
You've gotten all scatterbrained
From when your life took too many turns.
We're burning rubber now
And you're getting high like a lit fuse riding shotgun;
I'm waiting for you to go off.
And we can all see how it finally got in
And what wounds it left when it bowed out.
Your heart pushed until there was nothing left
I burned what you gave me to keep on going,
But the last thing you said shook off and fell flat.
None even left to cry, only odd ends left untied.

Summer Days

The crust was burnt and bacteria grew,
We were retracing our steps in growth
Finding the world and exploiting its worth.
Our teeth sunk in like a swing of whiskey
And light fermented each sour mash memory,
Sun-drunk on a bench reeking the stench of youth
With feet planted in the ground that nibbled at us.
Our eyes turned mushroom cloudy
As the light came in for one more time,
Exhaling fading spores speaking towards future.
We had found unsteady footing in damned coincidence,
And danced away the summer with commanding dissonance.

Anniverity

When keystrokes became closed fists,
And even more tightly closed lips,
I couldn't give myself the space.
I wish I didn't keep tabs,
But you should have known,
This is how I compute.
What was emotionally consumed
Was made illogically moot
Was made the resilient distance,
A strain of virus and its proof.
Who would ever have thought?
When it was aptly made forgotten.
It would be safely placed poison,
No longer food, but won't go rotten.

Magadents

Let's have a contest.
I want to make you do nothing, nothing at all,
Right there is the magic, yes, nothing at all!
Your stress is a needle on a compass
That prods you until it goes right through you.
Like ghosts, it will do you in and pull you out,
Spilling your innards in the same old mundane cadence.
You say it like you mean it, but for all the wrong reasons,
"The trees aren't falling in a sequential order,
The qunitessiential color of this arbor is not right for this season."
I'll just give you a reason to stay true,
A reason to breathe when the leaves leave their hue,
So that you both can remember for as long as you can
Without ever having to keep count again.

Counting By Convection

Feel the cold press up against your skin
While subtle advances plow through snow,
Assertive and pinched with sensitive nerves
A heavy breath that steams away.
One develops a touch for this,
Two makes the connection for a second,
Third time's the charm that shines on
Four walls that hold it all together.
Of the five fingers on your hand,
I just want to hold all of them.
There was a hole in six,
Because I didn't want a bad seven
From the charm that made a clean break of fear,
The crinkled nose you put on when
Disinfectant only works on the mirror.

Swing Low, Sneak By Chariots

Tangle your feathers in bubbly,
Makes you lightheaded
Makes the coating fuzzy
So sparks can catch fire,
You're a phoenix going blind in the choir of the sun.
Never thought twice to contend,
But once was enough to singe the edges.
Oh yes, here we go again,
Seeing how well you go away.
You've been putting things in you
To bring something out,
But now you answer yes or no with diluted blood.
This is how you bow out,
With a stumble, sinking to lows,
Down the stairs when no one knows it.

A-P/S-P

There was a lone wolf standing
On the structure of brotherhood
Whose silence was a compliance
That was most often misunderstood.
The moon sat terribly low,
Unbearably sick of the slick city air
That slid in and out of life,
Setting things down it would later take away.
Notice how each of these days is spent
Pressing a button for stillborn proof that
I'm just a light-chaser debasing out here,
Dying on the truth atop a snow covered roof.

Perspective Detective

Tilt-shift the world until it fits into your pocket,
Gets lost in the change and is tossed away with lint.
Or be the flint that saves the daylight, sunshine hero.
Your lips explode when the words want to be let go
Until you can't tell the difference between
The sweetest sincerity or sleep-crusted drool.
Fight the crime of digitized life
That goes by in properly tagged flashes.
The path of least resistance is irresistible,
But it gave you all of this distance between each step.
You couldn't hear my light through another silent night,
This time you need to fly, not fall asleep in safety nets.

How It's Going To Be

Well, would you look at the time!
You're always halfway out the door
With a twisted neck, looking in
As if you missed something
On the storm you rode out.
It was a hurricane in a time frame
Once on the mantle by the present tree,
Now buried in the sandbox.
These hearts we have are landlocked,
We're always looking for what brand of
Light politics to which our talking ticks should adhere.
Hold the hands, flesh it out and listen,
The oceans will flood to you like the blood in your ears.

Treated Water

Skin goes bad as soon as he steps foot in,
Well there's no real good in sounding clean
If you're only going to talk dirty.
How the shoveled snow salts your shoes
How the mind's ceiling turned to gray from blue,
And the things you would do
If given the slightest opportunity.
Crystal eyes can drop like icicles
And shatter on your very figure,
Laying there like a drunk on cold concrete,
It's just a turn to the other side of a pillow,
Falling fast asleep into the darkest dreams.

Da Mayor Said To Mookie

Tell me that you know what's going on,
Tell that you're catching on much better than I am
Since the mind I made went out, not up.
Not a city that rose, but one that could grow a thorn.
There are things we'll always know on our own
That we will never tell one another
For the sake of selfish stability,
The shellfish and its humility.
Don't give me what I find most precious,
I just see reflections of gems in the water
That strangle the skin on old hands and cold feet.
If someone ever knew, it wouldn't be me.
A mouth opens to speak only "always" or "never"
If you only knew, if I only knew better.

Tunnel Vision

I lied and said it was my last one,
But I stole from a sick baby and an old man
At his request, and I did my best to improvise.
I followed family traditions
Keeping a safe distance behind the clock,
But sometimes it seemed we were so far
That it just stopped moving all together,
And then I could remember.
Openers are never closers
When we can still call it hinged.
This sunlight binge makes melatonin well
And we're coming up to older bridges now,
Concrete cracked and charred that never caught on fire.
Well enough, I couldn't hold it for you.
Clear the catch, whatever caught on when it tried,
Forget the things we kept in fear to the side.
The roof peeled off when the deepened shutter opened,
Overcautious of the light, for which it’s always hoping.

2 Seat 1

Anxiously looking up every five seconds,
I see not the missing face,
Just one mildly misdirected.
Swirling in the cybernetic cycle,
It's a digital age, I can hold it like a bible.
Pull me in with your scripture,
Email and Facebook are reality's suture
And I hope to the Server that I will be saved.
My anticipatory friend is more of an imaginary date
Named in the fear of a cold seat pad.
Let's play the animal game:
Am I a giraffe or a prairie dog
Or am I just killing time?
Maybe all of the above,
Hoping each door swing is mine.
I keep using my manners so they think I'm not crazy,
My speech is not hazy, there is no hesitation.
Anything can be turned into a learning experience
Or just another source for a night's inspiration.

Golden

I'll be explicit when I'm with it,
I'm so nonchalant with arrogance
That I make it sound funny.
Mouth so stuffed full of fluff,
You've got me pushing out a chubby bunny.
Running quick, just as summer came home early.
Aluminum shines a dirty smirk
As it is crushed and hushed in a dark corner
Or in a black bag for the coroner.
Stiff as a carrot, we cut out the lights
For the single candle on a cake.
The sun's coming up and it's warming up to you
And you blow it all out, just like you're supposed to.

Four Old Numbers

Here is a toast to the ghost made
From burning busy bridges
And bruising our fruitful lives.
We wished the stems to wicks of candles,
But we vandalized our eye for youth.
Water clears the throat that spits fire,
The seeds we knew couldn't grow
To root through space and time,
Across highlited planners
And mapped out state lines.
The glass clinks as a long standing dial tone,
A sound that took a while,
But left a message on the home phone.

The Day Stella Died

From the stockroom to the standing room,
We were pulling her out to keep in the plug.
I asked her if she remembered when I pushed,
Said, "It was the only way to keep you close,
You shed your skin with a season's ending
And I couldn't pretend there was nothing
In between." Sips made periods in your speech,
A silence better left bleached in the sun.
When I left blacked out the week before,
I thought there would be warm light.
These colored squares are city blocks
In summer heat for one more time.

Search: "life" -imagination

In a stockroom I found potential,
A coat of dust and a window wall
With a view of eternal youth.
Only from this window could I see,
But when I sneezed it went away.
The shutter choked the light
In an instance glimpse, freshly trite.
Profanity is honesty's release,
And yes, I believe the bullshit
That comes out of my own mouth.
Please don't make me be the asshole,
Kid, you've got everything you need.

Wear Out Focus Ring

I woke up in a crasher's bed for a stranger
With a creak from a fuzzy heart overstuffed
That slipped under my ear through the night.
The sun dried my lids until they cracked open,
The brightening colors felt fresh, and the smell,
As old as the night before, but already spoiled.
It was a morning without an oil painting
And I laid as still as a portrait thinking:
Here's to the life that I couldn't lead.
It's a punch in the mouth, but at least I can bleed.

Pinwheel In A Puddle

She laid down with her right arm in the water
That was set in a cast and held up on stilts,
We wrote on it with metal, footsteps, and filaments.
Colored light in the water turned into oil
And a halo was put on the crescent moon
For the tides that pulled toward their final ascension.
We stood, as small as life, and made no intervention.

Ringing In A New Century

I said I wouldn't keep score,
But it's been about a twentieth.
Neither the wrinkles in the towers
In a wide pan of a burning city,
Nor the the bags that hang low
In the wind of dream chasers,
But the dull red light that pulsates
Alternating with a set of boxy zeroes.
A colon separates what it was
To what it is when the script is scrapped.
There are plot holes in these potholes,
She rolls over the asphalt like a farewell.
An actor worked and made me a friend,
It is just a campus forever again.

Chocolate Powder Milk

This intimacy is a foreign syndrome,
The power given in submission
That presses the chamber to thought.
He could never do more than hiss,
Though what is missed is not forgotten,
A fetus that grew into a hardened shell
From her insecurities in a fluid life.
There are directions independent
Of intentions that transcend a cycle,
And it is ourselves who are liable.
It is ourselves who scar our eyes
With viability in these trivialities.
The snake cradles the child
With its venom on reserve,
But turns away out of respect,
Its innocence still undisturbed.

A Grasp On Oil

My body is a time-smeared silhouette
Against everything I've learned to give up
Laid out in shadows and pricks of light.
But I could never forget it,
Mutual soft speak that meant nothing drastic,
Full and empty glasses lit up by festive plastic.
But the undoing of the bow on the present of past
Is a surprise wrapped in cellophane
That sits on a dresser adorned in sticky notes.
All with scribbled symbols that once had a meaning,
But you bent their arms and crosses
To believe something else they said.
This life has answers you will never understand,
Just look into a mirror, now explain what you can.

Stacked

It seems like everything is laminated
Menus, eggs, booth seats, and days,
But they shine like diamonds in interrogative light.
Here is a hand reaching out
Spilling over everything we can remember.
You see it! Don't you see it?
You got up for a second
And can't sit back down quite the same.
Warm spots have gone cold
And two hours have done nothing to the night
That shops before our foggy window.
The floor is covered in crusty sauces
And our lost time opened for answers,
We fight off our past and burn up its gas,
This city has never gone by any faster.

Calendars Become Cubicles

It felt like summer for a second
And everything was in its right place,
Though relative, but not absolute.
It was as brief as the storm surrounding
And a thief in its loss impending,
Reaching into my pockets of light
Running away in time
So that the subject loses focus.
I always wanted the corner with the window
For the comfort and the perspective,
But now my hands pat empty jackets
As I check the time and play detective.

Politics of Asking

If you jump in the water, it will feel like a flood
But it is far better than drawing your own blood
From fading pictures of sharp edges.
You've lived a legend grown too familiar to ledges,
Armed with an excuse for an exceptional view.
Take it in at shutter speed,
Stand still or else you're light will streak.
If you jump on the paper, you'll bleed right through
But there is nothing better than if you knew
How well these clots had once diffused.

Sunburst Mammalia

Kick your pretty shoes through the mud,
I could sit here forever taking air only to breathe.
Dull warmth pressed against me
And it shimmered in a western palette
Through the cleansing voice that rain could speak.
This laughter can stain everything we've come to love
And it wouldn't stop you from staring back
Looking for an answer in the deep azure.
The cage God put it in was meant to be expanded,
But it is left up to us to work it out in due time.
So put a crease on the last page of your favorite book,
You cannot forget how this one was going to end
When only the light of working fire made it through.
It burned a picture so tastefully overexposed
Of the flavor in each word skewed by your front gate:
"We don't make our opportunities, but we make our on fate."

To Leave Unannounced (Brut Redux)

Always almost making mistakes,
But I assure you some get through.
If only some knew...
If only I could let someone know
There's a way to slow things down,
But things get so loud
That my ears could bleed,
But I don't need to care one bit;
I couldn't give it a meaning.
I never thought to speak of a resolution,
Honesty and emptiness had already filled
A solution to shitty verses,
Green glass and my ass on a cold curb,
Waiting for black chariot hearses.
My eyes brighten in embarrassment
As I slur out my repentance,
There are full bottles in the cold box
And I can't finish a single sentence.

[REMOVE SECTION]

Two-oh-double-once-again,
I'm counting my sins with hands full.
I had to catch up with my past at some point,
I've been taught too well how to say nice things.
I've learned so well how to take them
With my eyes closed and an open mouth.
Champagne lips and elastic clips
Champagne lips and elastic clips
This line tastes too familiar,
And I don't seem to care.
It's wearing down my tongue,
The bubbles pop,
You're not/you're there.

Subject and Predicate

Keep on moving,
Just keep going before it doesn't say a word
As it slips out under the talons
Of another predatory bird of silent songs.
There is a suitcase always in the corner of my eye,
But I need the time to try on every coat.
There are strange lumps in the pockets
And cold spots underneath their collars.
But do I stand firmly? Not at all.
I'm going out in the theme of retrograde
And with debts unpaid, I call the bluff.
I'm going far on a cup,
So a gallon is much enough.

Playing With Your Retinae

It seems that water has made the lighthouse go blind,
No light to capture from the rapture of the night.
What woe! There are ghosts in the creaks of the wood
That haunt illuminescent light bulbs,
Childhood dreams that were still fast asleep.
When there is no time to pray
You go straight for the source,
Against the forces of gravity
Grabbing me from going up, up, up!
"That is enough!" the wind blew and we stood our ground,
But soon we had to stand closer, and we had to stand down.
Lest we be forgotten because the best we did was try,
We descended from the hills, writing our names into the sky.

So Close To Icons

A woman took us in and brought us towards heaven.
She said she'd wait as we tested out fates,
Spending to time to take it in
And weigh ourselves on the greater scale.
Splendid graffiti, pristine and white
Like a well disguised wolf among sheep,
Pressed against the darkening clouds.
Life continues in roundabouts,
Some afraid to get in,
Some too safe to ever want to get out.
This eye contact is the closest,
I wouldn't dare to pretend,
Lost in the rhythm of a circle
That gives our hearts back in the end.

When Plans Fall Through

Tonight we sit on a moving train,
Enjoying conversation as every station passes by.
There's no point in trying in dim lighting;
We've got stories about drinking and fighting
So we can light up our faces that way.
It's been a while since I've broken like that,
Crack joke, slip a smile under the door.
With that kind of lip, you must be asking for more,
But there isn't a damn thing you couldn't tell me about
That wouldn't sound better when we're just broing out.

Free Parking In Downtown L.A.

This city street sleeps with a little more color
Met with the quiet ghost of rush hour past
As the last cars wander on the symmetric grids
That have more foresight than their own lives.
We've got nowhere to go tonight,
We've got memory cards and youthful hearts
To capture all the industrial light,
The afterglow of man's triumph.
Towers so tall, they arch on the weight in our eyes
And bump against explosions held by gravity.
We overstep with expectations of flight
And pride our lives in iconic stills
That only increase its sense of brevity.
We make own figures and fill it with paper,
Light it up, and breathe in its levity.

Little Champ

The young ones stayed at home tonight
While the adults hunted for their money
Necessary when there are no teeth left to pull,
One too young, the other too old.
In the cold, we paced the streets on which
I had scraped my knees before you twinkled,
First a tear from a tear,
Then a life projected in my parents' eyes.
And now it is safe to say that we're all alright.
The concept design was finally realized,
My faith in your courage
That poured onto this life chasing satellites.

Throwback Composure!

"And after all that I've been
Through to save me,
I can do without you
And now I'm throwing you away
And I can only blame myself for this."
This road goes on and on
Until the ground kisses the sky,
And every time you sing to me
I'll fall in love and drown.
Kid, I know you hate it,
But maybe it's time to settle down.

Foolish Hit

I am the scientist, slurring and slow,
And I already know how it ends.
Your indications are tactless
Your rules always knew how to bend.
How many stitches does it take
Before the skin heals as a jacket,
Because it isn't a redefinition
If the recognition doesn't seem fit.
This is my favorite part,
When the cars don't stop at night
When the drunks are alright pretending.
I may be stupid, but consciously so,
And I already know how it ends.
The implications are merciless,
Even your light knows how to bend.

Real People Now

I've never gone into the southern hemisphere
But it was somehow appreciated,
Exploratory to say the least
With certainly nothing to hide.
There were no treasures, only gems
In the stems of great foundations
Left to grow their own creations
Of beauty and pride kept in flawless hems.
I grew in a clay pot
That was carried in a wandering arm,
But what we had forgotten was never let go
And supported the vines that kept us in the know.
How long can we make this last?
You know, it never hurt to just ask
That this warmth would keep beneath the sheets
For every time you would come back.

More Than Math And Science

I'm sorry about the sky,
I just know he isn't home.

The Ones That Came After The War

The storm isn't letting up, I can feel it.
Pandora is still sealed,
Half-assed in cheap Christmas cheer.
I should stop throwing these guns
Just because I don't know how to use them.
You gave the crown back,
You gave it all backwards
And watched them march into the trenches.
I would give anything
For it to come as well as I passed.
I will swim in metal on concrete
And greet it with a graceful smile
For a clip to hold your hair back
And to fight the extra mile.

Mass Flow Conservation

There is a box smudged on glass
With an X fingered through it.
It's done. Take it off the list.
If I had only knew how to save my day,
I would put another record on.
But this list will still play me
And we will suspend ourselves in steam,
Raindrops and metal
That my heart hopes will never rust.
I want to see the downpour make a stream
That would hit the floor before it ever beads.

The Party Law

I have my own in a cereal box,
The feet I walk on call out the prize,
Anachronistic fatalistic.
God, just tell me something new,
No, just something refreshing.
Divine world, small intervention,
And a rainbow LCD display
From distracting electronics and rain.
This is when it changed everything.
Have mercy on my vulnerability.

So Everyone Can't Read Every Text

I don't need the other me to tell me about my fantasies
As dark and twisted as it is to sleep on a misty highway
With both hands on the wheel,
And then to awake with a ghost limb.
This is the haunting of magician versus scientist,
Never learned how to make it disappear
Never missed a method to say it isn't here.
As recursive is without a vex a stop to turgid flow,
You should know this isn't something
You should think I'd never know.

Looking At Stars From Planes

This world is a powder puff.
At least the baker took the time to let it breathe
And he outlined rivers, mountains and trees,
A sprinkle for every street corner.
I feel warmer with the thought,
Some softer bells couldn't tell me
That I'm coming home.
Let's be thankful that no one is shooting,
I've got enough that you can wish on me if you want.

Suitcases Out!

What number am I on? I almost won't
Speak a sentence without a solution,
Unless I'm going for partial credit.
So don't believe everything I say,
This life is better left less of a gamble,
But, ladies and gentleman,
It's time to place your final bets.
These workhorses are coming in,
They're reaching down the final stretch.

Hold the Line

Words, where have you been?
The numbers came by the other night;
I think they're here to stay
And they've got others coming single-file.
Continuous flow with no conservation,
Now everything is some kind of observation
Of science. This is my compliance
To the terms of agreement: L.H.S. & R.H.S.
...Give me a hand to shake,
It's hard to say goodnight
When your brains have gone to sleep.
It's getting late, just close your eyes,
Tell consciousness to leave.

Stapled Paper Monster

There's no time to be a veteran
When you have to fight another war.
We are just square pictures and numbers
Who fight with ourselves and with the other.
Eat the atoms in the foil,
Break and bend them as you find fit
As long as you hold them together in the end.
They'll be pulling and pushing,
Your muscles contract.
You are moving forwards
And don't want to think back,
Because this is the fight.
There are no white flags that will fly in the night.
If there's a bullet, you won't dodge it.
In the thick of it all,
There is no magic, just logic.

Ominous Precipitious

Absent days come in a wave
As the ocean reaches the beach
With nowhere else to reach.
Now it comes down on itself
In hopes of holding its own weight,
Just wait for me on the other side.
We will fly or fall like the rain
Before it has always meant something,
So just make something good
Or stop me in my tracks dead.
Here is the runway, but there is the sky...
Go forth, full speed ahead.

That Isn't Your Name

There is nothing more to that life
Than television and kinesthesia,
You wait for a train on the wrong platform,
How long has it been since you’ve gotten off track?
I've got my pencil mustache
To draw out all of these words
That I hid under a top hat.
But what is it that you say
That you don't know what it means?
Wear me out on your incessant treading,
The screeching of rail and flashing lights.
Don't cross me, you have lost me
More than what I think would ever be right.

Welcome to the City

This reminds of the time spent
By the buckeye tree of quiet family;
I could trace long fingers in the dirt
And my mother told me what it was worth
As my father watched on quietly.
This is how time wound us down,
Now we spin in private circles
And scuff our shoes and streak the floor.
I never meant to dance around the door,
But absent bells ring in my ears as a symphony.
It's cold enough to snow here,
But we're all waiting for that somebody.

Usually, There's The Music To Cue You...

And it went a little something like:
"Everything will be alright,
The pilot light just needs a little gas."
I asked if you could see the lighthouse from here,
You waited for it to come back around again
Like it was always getting sick
Whenever it went on the water
And then under.
But we'll just sing irony in our rusted voices,
Desperate screaming into warm bubbles
That explode when it reaches the surface.
They are fireworks of sugar and salt,
Delicate earthquakes that look for a fault.

The Transformation

You've been talking about death for hours on end,
You're making a mistake
You think to yourself, rubbing alcohol tears.
Will you tuck this one under your bed
With the rest of your color book monsters,
Who conspire in the heat of the moment
And light the fire right beneath you?
Lately I've been having these feverish dreams,
Where these cheap curtains keep the desert outside
And a turbine pumps blood only let out at night.

The Nearsighted Excuse

I don’t think I could listen to anything softer,
Softer than silence. Listen to your stability,
Love the sweet danger foreboding, refreshing,
A dirty smirk as you shiver.
We’re just a couple lonely people
Trying out the breaths of one another.
If this skin could only keep the blood in,
These nerves could work up enough
To tell my chest it doesn't need to be
Against this door with unfinished numbers,
A black, charcoal-etched evening shore.
It seems you grew into yourself well;
I will take the dive and hold the rest.
It's time to put my best away,
This time the night gets one more day.

Too Much Consolidation

If you put it all in one place just to count it,
Has it really counted if you realize
That those faces won't ever seen you again?
I sure hope I haven't loss the touch,
Because I really do miss the contact
Upon the tarmac burnt from friction
To the TV-through-blanket addiction.
By then I will have stopped paying attention,
But my nerves will bend for it
And I'll lie in your lap like a board
For you to wash away your worries.
Sweetness, you're a sugary winter
That won't need a grain of salt
To give me the traction to react.
Speak me a soft coat of words,
I need their warmth holding my back.

Blinky Eyes

Choose your fate:
Dark into the woods or deep under the waves,
You can find me in the green room,
Lecturing myself on how to bury my dead.
How much can we keep in folded paper
Before it crumples under the weight of our words?
The world just dropped from under us all
And we are suspended in pretenses and grief.
It's time tome to terms with your reality,
It's time you learned how well you can breathe.

Settle, Settle...

We can make our home here
A dying brother on a frosted-over rocking chair
Who can barely feel the weight on his legs
He feels like he is flying
He feels like he is free
The colors black in and out
A thousand winks from a Christmas tree
There's a slippery descent into innocent snow
It'll be safer in the morning,
This is where we'll make our home.

The Knots In Sick Arbors

Someone left their love in a lemon tree
That turned as bright as warning;
It was so warming and dissolved free.
Fading pictures for ghosts on telephones poles,
Pinned up with rusty stables and old ambitions.
Every tassel was torn off, but still no response.
You tell yourself to call your older echoes when you can,
Before that creaking sound is too foreign,
Before the door won't fit your hand anymore.
It seems to me like those locks still fit in place,
So I wouldn’t quit it unless you’re ready to quit it
It won’t matter who did it if you’ve always hid it.

Refractory

A push comes to shove and you run your mouth,
Lips and brows had made a vow seven sunrises before:
Never again, not now and never more.
But we returned just as we came
With a list of names on a pink backdrop.
We fall back into the assembly lines
With hopes in our coats we put on one last time.
The refractory is an act that we need to shut down
The factories are after me; they’re calling me out.

Hands to Landing, Tuck to Rolling

Put some days in between,
Down feathers in your favorite pillow.
Tossing and turning wouldn't turn it over,
So you got over the blankets and sighed
Because it takes too much to lie in sleep.
"I'm coming," were the words whispered,
But there was no time to wait.
You wake up to the final descent
Tray tables up, fastened to your seat,
Looking calm, Looking cool,
Look at yourself with honesty.

Let's Not Pretend Hazards

It's no surprise why I am up right now:
To send messages with no subjects
To doubt my very own existence,
Only made up of repeated plans.
Let me be my own Madagascar
Let my ports fill with clots;
I can tell what was gotten from me
In the purple between the grass.
Unforgotten and taken back,
Gravity has been waiting it out,
Just a cold rock burning up
Before it could fall down.
It's no surprise who is the best
Just because it can’t work out.

Posthumous Posture

There are vows that break on contact
And slip down a bloody cheek
As old habits, tenacious like
Chewing gum that loses flavor
Before a single world has been said.
And although the receipts beg to differ,
I shivered a shout that settled in the car,
Drowned out in hot air from the engine.
Welcome back to the firestarter's club,
Knowing what you love the most
And ghostly keeping it warm.
There is everything I will never know,
Just keep control to let it go.

It Isn't Fair

The night stood still for a calming soul,
Not even a whisper from the poison oak.
Quiet and contained, paired warmth, lungs bright,
I said every word thinking no, no, no,
But what do I know. You said you were sorry
Like you couldn't even breathe right.
Spin around the calendar, here we go again.
This time let everything be said and
Take it to the grave or take it to your bed.

Carriage House Return

Look at me through sixteen years
Look through the things
That you don't have to fear yet,
What you're not even near yet
Or even better will never have to know.
If I could show you everything now,
And wrap your heart in guidance
Then my misalignment
Would forever be excused by it.
And sorrow salt can call for quiet
On the set made by an amnesiac.
I've forgotten my well hidden scars
From falling asleep on transcontinentals,
Washing my plastic, and living on rentals.

The Respect Is Mutual

I've been thinking about heaven quite a bit with these kids,
Wondering if I can get much higher,
But there surely is nothing like this.
He said it himself with quiet irony riding shotgun
And a dusty tape deck playing static tracks.
But we're always moving on sun-faded streets,
You loop nostalgia and call it a beat
Tuck in under some vocals and call it a feat.
This creation is man-made and self-destructing
And we stand above inhaling the smoke before the ruin
Constructing exactly how it is going to end.
Old friends can always throw something new in
Just took keep the same fire burning,
To feel the heat of our youth light the truth we are learning.

Little Hands In The Big Sky

This is a day spent lifting blankets,
Getting comfortable again with the sedimentary
Elementary aspects of romance, tragedy,
And familial grace that takes place right before me.
This love is simple and soaked in sun,
And got so much better when I was no longer
The only one under their wings.
We are growing like proud wind,
And you're only getting louder with things to say,
Sing me this song that I never learned to name.

Turn On The Christmas Music, It's Almost Thanksgiving!

I'm not one for remembering names, but
Hello, angelina, you tiny savior
Adorning a pungent pine tree.
You were in the form of an instructor of pilates
And a musician who struck a chord with me.
The machines took over too early,
So four hours were spent knowing Logan too well
With 40 boxes of greasy cardboard in cardboard
With water in plastic and goldfish in bags.
Seven hours later, the magic worked
From a plane window I saw the pollution and the pier,
Made it on to the other side,
Coast to coast, I marked home a little before 7.a.m.
Everything's almost the same.
I'm home, therefore I am.

Big-Faced Propaganda

There are vultures behind the tube.
Say good morning to your breakfast,
Severed weekly in a sleepy room
Almost as good as hitting the snooze.
Just five more minutes please,
I'll die if I have to leave this bed.
Covers and contours of the skin
Have never fit as well as love is a war film.
You're special because you're normal
So just shoot me for every finger on my hand raised to fly,
Or play roulette with words and faces
With mental displacement at an all-time high.

Inertia Is Always Positive

This is your new club, your melodramatic pop
That rocks in the coke that did a little trick.
I get in the picture to make a feature stick
With eyes that don't roll, but they sure are tired.
Get wired, get loco, it doesn't matter what they do,
All that matters is what you do, I mean, you knew it,
Sometime around midnight Wednesday night.
If there is a descent, then there has to be a flight.

Reliving In Prosthetic Log Structures

You forget, boy, the scars make it feel like perfect skin.
And when words are spoken that you don't hear
Don't you fear someone else has already been let in?
Trees once had branches as yours as do mine,
But when they've been cut, do you still not feel them?
Little hairs stand up in the wind,
There are whispers to which they listen
And vines entwine from the roots keeping tabs,
Icy rivers in your skin reach the limb's running hand.

A Boy In The Party Scene

I barely caught the bus out,
Buzzed in with a silent phone,
A hot head and cold thumbs
Waiting at this station.
I used to know you
But it is nice to meet you.
Tonight I caught perspective
Thrown from a lively mouth
Perched on an exclusive porch;
I tongued them with a bitter taste
But it goes down easy
And I go on my way.
Wandering off into the night
To catch a bus with its lights off,
I'm a little cold, but sitting tight.

It meant everything.

Angle down the dim-lit screen
Remember each retinal engraving,
All too real to keep you
Comfortably safe in
Something made up, then
From the trimmings and truths.
Some youth escaped as a scentless gas,
Combustible and made of past
Mistakes, (or) the things that made you great.
Tell me what it's worth now
Mixing weights with alcohol.
Sleep tight, precious, you left us wide open,
Just how far will you get from your hoping?

Make Your Points (Each One Counts)

The first stone:
It isn't a matter of who throws it,
But where it lands.
Obsessing over measurements,
I taunt two buckets and balance beam.
To take is to give, and I'd rather live without
The time solidified under pressure
Turned to sharp rocks I pick from my feet.
Walk it off, but don't you dare walk out,
The engine is screaming and you've only to shout,
Kick into the gear that won't get you kicked out.

Velvet Reconnect

Your spend your day mostly in night.
The fabrics draped around your bones
With a buffer of untouched skin,
So the sun kept his filthy hands off.
All the while, I tried to piece together
The present and immediate past
With passages from your book
And animations that took the form of your body.
It's nice to see that you're still alive
Without further examination,
On behalf of the memories I protect.
And neglecting all the edge effects,
This soft contact is light at best.

A Tree In A Storm

We spin wildly from perplexing lethargy,
References indefinitely redefined
To ultimate become rag dolls at the finish line.
As I lie on my bed, I question the geometry
Of limbs and the symmetry of my head.
But there are no new angles to discover,
They all stem to the same new beginning,
Synthetic fruitfulness, a future as we make it.
Cold air blows tears in the eye of a hurricane.
Storm the front and squeeze juice from this surname.

Req. #

Here's one step into preemptive sun
To dry up my skin and show more wrinkles.
This is the closest I'll get to acting my age,
I'm not getting any taller,
This is the smoothness of my brain.
Call me not the greedy one,
I'm just looking for a challenge.
I'm letting go of shaky ropes,
Unmoored to float if managed.

What's Wrong.

Like picking vitamins off the floor with dirty hands,
I am listening to songs about inadvertent blasphemy
At the speed of sound at sea level,
Thinking it’s a way to finally get free.
Every night is happy hour,
Blackout drunk from exhaustion,
Stumbling over calendar boxes to find where I need to go next.
Not backwards.
It's imaginary, ordinary…the sound of my mistakes.
Alone in a subway car,
Always: from one thing to the next.
Who put this table on a clock?
It just keeps turning and turning.
Twisting implications and explications apart.

Alternatives To Sleep

I wondered a.m. or p.m. as if I had a choice
After having closed the curtains at noon.
It was the perfect day to run away,
But I had already turned myself in,
Partially in-
Complete, but a night's work nontheless.
The lids were cracked open,
Smacking back like measuring tape
Taking numbers on the length of deep red veins.
I didn't want to wait for the sun again,
The solstice when we'd ask each other,
"Are you Tom or are you Summer?"
But more melon light reflected through the dirty glass
And the music never stopped when the night was over.

A Cold War Between Two Radiators

I keep on putting on these heavy dark coats
Like something damned and cold is coming in,
But who would've thunk about the clunk coming out,
The scrap metal that scratches my throat
On the way to a disjointed mouth.
Some take it for disbelief, some take it as meaningful
As leaves blowing off the vine to define this year's fall,
But dirt bleeds through the walls
Because the ground that I stand on is dying.
And until that day comes, I'll swallow my words,
Throwing all sorts of friendships down the well.
Kindly, fuck most everybody else.

Adium is a hell of a drug.

When the hands reached out around the clock,
They found themselves back where they had begun,
Strung-out and empty-handed; nothing happened
Between now and then, A dream is just a dream
And this changes nothing.
The more I talk, the less I know,
So come on, bones, all the blood is waiting.
We are humans with our hearts
But lawyers with our cases,
Protecting what we meant with something else we say.
The plaintiff is just an atheist, turning bibles into books;
I had criticized the retraced lines, but the author is a crook.

Pillowcases Are Empty Shells

I regret breathing in as deep as I did
I took in more air then I needed.
And in the gluttonous exhale,
Stubborn inertia has prevailed.
Some of us haven’t changed one bit.
The mystery is up,
I can sleep duty-free.

Addiction vs. Dependecy

Everyday is a descent in a windowless car,
It's time to get your sweaty fix again,
Being pressed against metal as satisfying as a collision.
So willing to lose control and drift into an uplifting routine,
You are hydroplaning to be freed from extraneous friction.
Feel the tensile strain pulling tightly on your pulsating skin
And the beauty outside turning into hot stone from within.

It Is Always Stationery.

Sitting here idly, being lectured to about efficiency,
I sang the alphabet backwards from "A"
To find another way to spell it out for you,
But I could never understand any word I ever meant.
Every spine has had its crack,
And every page has aged and bent.
I could still read you with my eyes closed
Under my lids hid my best notes,
But I fell asleep with your name on my lips,
Stripping dreams from becoming ghosts.

Ocean Snot

You're as lovely and predictable as the waves
And every day you drown me is another day you save.
It burns my yearning lungs that are learning how to breathe,
That shake and quiver as my vocal chords shiver
And from the soft offshore wind I begin to slowly speak.
Hello there! Okay, goodbye now, see you soon.
Tether your weathered heart up towards the moon.
It's funny, the sand briefly remembers my hand,
Honey, I think I see it coming again.

A Childhood Scar On My Knee

I woke up in my socks and missing her
So I ran and slid into a slammed door.
And whenever I see this kid who didn't hurt at all
With a dumb smile, fake tears, and his hands on the ground,
I always have to pick him up and see
What I left in those eyes and what ended up eroding my skin.
I had lit a candle in a vast empty room called a dream,
Between his hands and mine, it is clear which ones are clean.

Find Function

When the casual overlap becomes a lot less casual,
You will sit cross-legged and I will suit up.
We will talk about the formalities
And discuss the well-formed habits that
We've worn down to a point, to sign peace,
Or to pierce the night for more
So that the stars run down the blackened sky
And collect in our mouths in a soapy mix.
Hopefully it's nothing that decisions bad
And a splash of sour could not fix.

City Boy

I am made of meat, steel and electricity.
My body is a downtown with appendages
Pulling in tiny cells to push them out again,
More of the same only with elasticity.
We look with screeches for our grip,
And a sick mother nature coughs
Trees into the holes in the sidewalk.
This city never sleeps with the traffic lights on,
Not nearly as well as you do every night.
I'll be awake for you in the morning,
But I won't fall asleep by your side.

Revive The System!

On a charter bus back home
Fading westward into the night,
The girls were being mean
Just as they always are.
There was dirt under my nails
Unfinished business left in a river,
All turning into rust, human red.
It was our last time out of our element
But still in the same family,
A chemistry called intimacy from laces crossed.
The future on a present string, the memory's not lost.

Apropos of Altered Slow

My sleep was strained in a sieve
And strung together carby and complete,
Waiting to be seasoned with doubts
Like salty hair, silky matted down.
You're wet with inspiration,
You're dripping into an ocean of
Bleached fiber and hesitation.
These names don't make sense
Due to a fever that persists,
You're running numb in the cold
To feel the things that don't exist.

Smile Held With A Bracket

I woke up with a card on my stomach,
A warning much better than knots
But the smell of forget-me-nots
Still serves the same function in its absence.
As city planner, I'll collapse the span of bridges
To take back all the ridges of lost time.
And from the snapped suspension,
I will find the inclination to breathe with purpose
Like the machine I want to become.
Give me crutches with hooks
And I'll string them up again,
Feet barely on the ground like a marionette.
Yeah, I'll wrap this life with splints
And stitch it up with no regrets.

You Win.

And at this point we don't know
Whose face hides behind a silhouette,
But we make bets made of promises
And we know how long it's been,
Not how long it will be. But it's
Something I couldn't lose
To(o,) someone else.
And dreams will keep it alive.
Filing a request for a returning flight
To hold onto my back upright,
Faces and figures collect and collide.

When We Thought 2000 Was The End

Damn this given beauty not given to me,
The storm that clears over the east
The silence on the moon
The coldness on the beach.
I never found the innocence,
I got in right as they were leaving.
I never had the reflections and the water
Or the constructive waves to make you more than up.
Now you make love when you're sad and you drink to be happy.
And it can fill up the room from the ground to the ceiling,
There's no liquid or sound that could drown out this feeling.

Wearing Nostalgia, Swimming with Sharks

I was spoken to in slowed-down French
In a room where we learned about our bodies.
The popcorn popped like mistreated audio
And plastic wrappers luminesced in flavorful light.
There was familiarity in kinesthetic
Recognition heartbeat bass drum,
Like the things that this coat has felt,
The pressure between skin
And the hot then cold then hot again.
I'm glad you're still here
And my shortened breaths still count,
And your hands can still cover
All the things I can't surmount.

Take More Away

It's four in the morning, having lost so much sleep.
Time to take some more away from the earth,
What clumps and rolls on nothingness,
That is covered in meridians and datelines
To give me this very day, shifted in phase.
We make levelers for stability,
But all that is to be done is point.
Give a direction with a purpose that's viable,
Because this kind of something
Isn't consciously justifiable.

Measured In Lumens

It started on an off-chance glance,
Checking the texture and viscosity
Of folded paper in shaded pixels.
What you need is nothing given
As shown by the length of each line.
You're taking deeper breaths now
And tucking yourself into a smile.
You've found your self-governance
And everyone in you obeys it,
All your demons sound asleep
Under the angel light they pray in.

With What's Left

The morning found its proper place,
Awake and taking small steps
Like the baby born in her belly.
She is a sickly hope in a thin sundress
Who twirls to match the madness
And reveals skin smooth as satin.
Crisp skies had been preheated,
To keep us happy or kill us quick,
So the phrases keep up with every year:
If she warms up, she just might stick.

The Great Don't Fall In Limbo

The soil bears her own scars
From cities razed and refounded.
The dates read on each sarcophagus
Are older than the sacred ground itself,
Thousands of plots for a line of best fit.
Only the heart of the matter
Is found from the incision that cuts through
Well and pipe that burst in synchronization.
The sound of glorious horns play like the devil's
That teases you with his woeful tremors.
Reciprocate and fall in love,
Sharing breaths with the ground,
Blow a kiss, stay above.

-10

If I could, I would keep the sun poised in the sky,
And all the light would touch unnoticed
But then crescendo to warmth to never leave.
Yet every leaf has its color to show
As it is brought down to earth,
To fall out of line in a beautiful pattern
That we only have the capacity to call chaos,
Until we are derailed and violent sparks singe
The subtle uncertainties we almost forget to say.
I'm going back to lay the tracks
That would lead me to this day.

Mr. Spoonerism

There's release in the trashcan and it's free in the air,
Lawnmowers haunt the late yawners
And cracks in old fabric expose a near escape.
At this point, days stop going by the dates.
A desk is turned into life's misinterpretation
In the form of irony and alcohol.
We come to leave our state of being
Perpetually, dissatisfied like the shuttles
That return in paranoia that they are spinning
And the world is what is standing still.
Do you hide your thrill in hand-hiding pockets
When returning rockets prove your feet on the ground?
Then why does the moon pull the shores and your frown?
Why do you smile when no one else is around?

A Factor of Four Hours

Obsessive, compulsive, regressive, comes close to
The rest of a day pad unstacked out of grasp,
Perfected nostalgia for immediate past.
Sometimes there's no time to walk through the door,
So we go on the roof and find something to land on.
You can throw me a bone to eat off the floor,
I'm still digging up ground just to have one to stand on.

Safety Net Syndrome

Our prisons are made of glass and of hell
With a door always open to the last thing we left,
Our captors. They are our rapture that makes us
Rattle our Faraday's cages as the charges build up,
Guilty of our own freedom to hope or to sleep.
Its presence is a blue tear in a gray sheet,
Resilient, persistent, piercing, complete.

Smooth Brained

I felt it with my head against the wall,
The plastered talk left unmastered
So that I overstepped and fell off the thrown,
On which I broke my crown.
There I laid,
Asleep on a heavy hand that left a ring in my ears.
Now here I am,
And I can't fall asleep without the sound on.
I wouldn't mind one more night
With your heart murmurs' warmly drowning.

Heads or Tales

There once was a boy with a disappearing coin.
It shined like diamonds or faded like dust,
And so was his trust in reality.
He put his money into philosophy and lust
To find a deeper meaning in skin.
There once was a man with no past of his own
Who resembled a boy that had already grown,
He became magician, bought a coin for a trick,
Gave his trust to a boy, and disappeared sick.

Shutup

My life changed with eight letters and a name
A seven-digit call turned a dial tone to a vein
In six breaths vomit came in cleansing
With five more minutes spent in explanation
A four-paragraph eulogy
To the three words of shape-shifters
The steady collision of two stellar bodies
Or the one note for a bird to sing a song,
Count on me to find the words to say
Too much.

Presesnt Push

Swallow your tongue so your heart can find
The words to be savored the most,
To be put in the sheets an earnest ghost.
It will haunt your pillowcases
Where you listen for your dreams
That float up in short whispers of silent night.
It becomes the light in your eyes,
Leaving you mentally blind before you speak.
A simple connection, the ground to your feet.

Suddenly We're Out Again

It started when it ended and it went on long enough,
Internal clocks revolted and took control of all my trust
So that riverbanks crumbled into a muddy flow of wine,
And I slipped into shivers because this body isn't mine.
I've been adding up semantics to reject the blood in value,
So just listen to this story that I don't have time to tell you.

First Winter

Stars move fast when made of water,
Splashing far into the sky
And lighting up whatever they'd like.
I hold my umbrella tight,
A final stand against a falling sky,
Falling sideways, howling wild.
I stumbled on heaven's porch
And felt a kid again.
But one knee rested on the tile
As it was taken once more,
Tugged towards the floor
But smirking drunk sincerity,
A hand over the surface
Keeping a steady pressure.
Her hands were made of ice
And it felt in frigid pleasure.

Cloudy Eyes

44 hours are heavily darkened circles
Having been drawn over too many times
From too many days and too many nights.
Pile on to keep the conscious balanced,
But in a while the scale will break.
The chains are stable pulses,
Electric anchors along my nape.
Metaphysical decapitation
Sends rolling dreams on a winding road.
I must be running on amazing,
Or extremely stupid, falsely bold.

American Eater

I've been wrong about many things
Like the pockets of air kept under my skin,
The cracking sound of dry earth in hot light.
They're throwing dirt on me, burying me if I don’t move.
It's not that I don't focus enough,
It's just that I put too much focus into everything.
Too much focus makes clarity piercing,
Popping the locks on stability.
You asked for it, now answer the door,
Those heavy eyes, once yours, drag up from the floor.

Red 40

There are many things I believe in,
Symmetry to say the least,
The amazing things that come to meet me here,
Shiny plastic and sweetness at the door.
Silent words and stomach birds
Pick everything off of the floor,
And put them back into place and listen.
A decrescendo falling for a magician made
Of flavoured candy and coloured kisses.

Fold Until Collapse

Everyone has a bomb to drop,
Attachments detached from all emotions
Embraced with the kiss of hot wax.
The face melting stroke in pen
Tattooed until blue,
Impressions left on the surface.
But it remains washable, non-toxic
Like the clever creases in each page.
Tie up your rage in a curlicue
It's petty and trite,
A papercut and nothing new.

Highly Inertial

Past slowly connects with present and I'm shocked,
Favorite t-shirts used to have so much color.
This life is lightning through smudged glass
That leaves foggy impressions against our lips
And makes us trip over untied shoes,
Endings that didn't quite settle in the ground
Suddenly uprooted in light.
This shiny belt leaves crystal welts
That nature does clothe so well,
Just keep your head up,
You're covered enough
To brave the cold weekend swell.

All Digits But A Limb

There are open swords in this gentleman's court,
And dogs run about with letters in their mouths,
Barking out their orders with nothing spelled out.
Don't make me forget the details in texture of skin,
The portrait I left on the warrant of arrest,
Indigestible on the table where this crime was set.
I'd rather walk into the depths than stand up in objection,
The blood was rejected where your blade came to rest.

Casual 7 a.m.

Crack the sky open when nothing is left
And let the morning come in over easy.
Tensile strings in my back tug tightly
So that sails stretch out to dawn,
Agape and gulping air and grasping.
Fingers play with cloudy strands of hair
And cotton gets caught in my throat.
A light cough wrestles the silence
That nestles itself in the room,
Four walls went down so casually,
A Friday never too soon.

Yeah, You know.

And then everything starts going faster.
Every moment starts flashing by,
Stuttered cameras and your loss of breath.
It is beautiful and it is is gone,
Home was never home where you had felt it all along.
Names turn into memories of the daylight that remains,
The future looks as blindly as the past that stays the same.

Honesty Without Conviction

Sleeping through sirens was never enough.
I'd roll up my cuffs to build a fire,
But they were tight like the light breaking down
When prevailing winds started blowing smoke.
Oh, but I could see through the lamination,
Cataracts collected on my eyes,
And the contamination was set in stone.
You never know how light the dark is
Until it is reflected upon you,
Perplexed one more time
Imperfected as it spells out on the line.
A capital to the morning,
A period for the night.

Rest Assured

We sit like scissors on a patch of fray,
Cutting through to the honesty.
You're the only one who could promise me
That intimate blows of stitches to stomach,
Not kisses mixed with tonic water,
Could never clench so hard
As to break my certainty.
In every resonant frequency,
The absurdity is worried away
From the words stirred into all that you sang.
The background breaks in,
A shaking earthquake, hands to peace.
Sweet seismic lullaby, swing me to sleep.

Feeding Off Stability

Feeding off stability,
The guilt spoken on my chest as I laid on my back.
I'm trying to balance mistakes on a scale,
But there's no point in tipping
The butcher or the waiter.
It can be pulled apart in any way you want,
But this kind of patience is maiming.
It's kept so rare as to have a life
Uncorrupted, untrusted by the judicial eye
That peaks under the blindfold.
This blood now boils by association,
The bitter masterpiece tastes of unripe delicacy
And its sour seeds burn from a tarnished creation.

Escalante Feeling Revival

I stood screaming at the water,
At my hazy reflection of so many stagnant days.
I counted the seconds between each delay,
Touched the surface, and collided with
Everyone and everything thing
I wish I had given more time.
A 5-year reaction made this extraction pure,
How I could sleep insane tied town to a chair
With each heavy breath against a soft pillow,
So you could hollow me out with a carving spoon
For the echoes of a shimmering light,
Blinding fascination. I close my eyes,
Tenses agreed and consciousness resigned.

Hey, You Beauty Supreme

A temporal displacement is the sun settling east,
Though we both screamed you were not.
We both forgot the good sting in our throats
So just shut up and sing with me,
From the quiet to the untitled
Three: Secrets kept in the basement
Are my faceless pennies thrown in couples.
But they roared like twin-engines deep,
The airplane drone tucked into constellations.
Encore, encore! Yet we are restless
And wrestle into a different sleep,
Sneaking out of the night and into the heat.

Sleep Here

This time it's different,
But my safety words are those explicit.
Wrap them in good company,
Curled up on the futon or buried on the floor,
Hiding from the clarity of near frozen air.
Though they still all manged to slip on icy sleep,
And I too signed off my conscious lease.
Your hand was the mark; my imprint: initials.
Push me up against the city stars ever so gaudy,
So that every soft surface will have found a warm body.

Background Jesus

I keep looking for the multitracks
For a fulfillment that I won't get back,
The satisfaction of picking through each layer
And relishing in poignant embellishments,
The decorated screen on which confessions spilled,
Because I can only hear you when you shout.
Your heart made you a clot that stuck in your mouth.

The Consequences

Sleep deprivation caused deterioration,
The rings of your stem is a tree.
Leaves cracked and twigs snapped
When your naivety was pushed from a branch
By all of your pressing issues
That climbed up a ladder of priority.
You must find your swing or a swimming theme,
From each kick, each dance and every squeal.
Point your toes towards the clouds,
And wear your scars proudly,
But my child, you must let them heal.

Visiting Hours

A skeleton hung from a string
Against your closed window.
I was once a medium
And saw it from the other side,
I spoke to the future as the present,
A past that had long since died,
And was tied up in her beauty.
Mute me and fade to black,
Put my gift next to your ear,
And speak to anyone but me.
The sky is still as blue as I remember
And there is a piercing belief,
In a leaf turned red in bloody death,
That warmth will be born before December.

Returning To A Burning Building

No one breaking in, but all breaking out
I walked into the fire and out of the rain.
A lonely elephant parade made light,
Took up all the moisture
Into the cloisters of a silent saint,
An angel in casual ascension
As long a the cable stayed taut.
The ability to mourn
Is a divinity better left unsaved.
For the affinity to this still unmarked grave
Comes after I've earned the name I have made.

For Things Turned

Tonight we trace our hearts in fog
Against the Cambridge skyline,
Over the city, under the sheets.
Out of my mind in the heat
Of a sun already sat down.
Take a breath start over this time,
The field is an ocean of reflected night.
We mirror our verbs and feel closer in time
For another inspection, respective
Of all the operations to derive.
Add up the letters between you and the sky,
Divide up the love for each day you're alive.

Well Needed, If I Can Remember

Throw alcohol on the fire
Feel it burn down your throat,
Breathing a familiar smoke passed away.
It is the dust from an urn,
The week died quietly and quick,
So suddenly stick mouths
Closed upon muddy thoughts.
You cease to remember the creases you forgot
Left at the bottom of heavy pockets.
From stepping in puddles, they are wet.
Overstepping into a rainclouds
Is the same sound that you kept
The change in altitude
As the cabin pressure dropped.
The air moves past my lungs
But nothing clung, no time to stop.

The Use of Contractions

Subconsciousness in one's and two's
Now looked for rhythm in slow pulses,
Acoustics safe and sound indoors,
A warmer winter up six floors.
Mismatched eyes and faint melon sky,
The light washed over the paper screen,
A million colors clung on to me and you.
The ignition turned to candlelight
That kissed away the twisted knots
And put smiles in each pocket
As to not forget where we got them.
Let us fade simultaneously
From the gracious cranes that held the structure
Of hands and words that spelled each other.

Ride The Work Bus

The alarms went off at 7 .a.m.
But there was no wolf at my door,
Just a hooded morning
With my head so far from the floor.
But I'd make it on through the other side
Thinking the day I sleep is the day I die.
So I kept myself up
Scratching lead between lanes,
Criticizing each route taken,
Taking wishes from each plane.

The Gold In Dirty Lungs

There are too many steps beneath each foot,
Too much ground to gain
With too much dirt that stains your pants
From the mountain you tried to scale
Digging deep to make it faster,
But only found yourself in a mine.
The gold came at a price,
A shortness in breath from all that helps you die.
I can't even remember how this lie was supposed to go.
I always have to go, but I just want to slow down.
I knew the timeline couldn't hold up
The swimming day the quickly drowned.

Toast

A haunting ghost is more so haunted
When it is lost in the sheets,
Losing more in sleep under a heavy dream.
The clothes are clean tonight,
They lay unfolded, resting quietly.
No sleeves to pull, no collars to stiffen,
Power in indifference
Is the best gift I've been given.
I lost the score when I gave up,
Lying on the floor with green on my back
Waffles in the sky, my mind tracing back.
There's painter's tape around our trust,
I hope the memories were good enough.

Sleep Robbers

A dream staged in conscious pages,
An open cage with adverse winds
Keeps these wings tucked in.
I never learned the difference
Between butterflies and moths,
Countdowns and clocks,
Something to gain with some sort of loss
Of words from ambivalence.
Optimism-realism, the bright side is brighter
From sunlight or fire in the dead of night.
Unintended egocentrism,
I sit in my chair and the room spins around me
Until the sun comes up to finally ground me.

Late Night Medical

I lightly packed a book bag full of snacks
That neither of us could ever stomach.
We were going on an adventure,
A vacation in surrealist claymation
With cracks in the sidewalk,
Cracks in the sky I held not to shatter.
When I had wished the world a little flatter,
I thought I'd left Guernica somewhere in you,
But your ocean ran a deeper blue.
I wish I only knew, dear,
I wish I only knew how to help you.

From The Ivy Vine

In pieces of three,
A family stretches along the sidewalk.
Older than the gum glued to the cement,
More tenacious as well.
A silent understanding is left by the draft,
As the rafters shook and shattered
Any question of the matter.
Walk tall, men, and give them a show,
Take those stomachs out their knots
And tie the timelines into bows.
This is timeless, fraternal to say the least,
Fallen like angels, awoken like beasts.

The Second Take

This time with more bubbles,
This time with less trouble staying in the door,
Being able to see the floor before we'd fight
The covers, the other things lost in the night.
Libations were poured down my throat,
Some sour milk left a floury coat on my lips,
While sips turned into swallows
Until the deep cup was hollowed again.
Back in the dimly lit, a chimney spat out fire
From somewhere deep in the core,
Then the walk back was made easy
With a teasing count in three-four.

The Familiar Overlap

I pushed the diamonds towards the sky,
The heaven's pushed back with the bluest light.
Everything was enveloped
And the pictures came out undeveloped,
Unclear and misunderstood
That I could turn off the spark
And run on the phantom the lurks in the dark.

Current Times

Today is not tomorrow, but I stay up late enough.
The morning kicks the covers off,
The day rolls over the sky.
You hold your dearest coldest fears
In little packages of light.
A smile tucks underneath your lips
As silence diffuses in forthcoming night.
Our sun had settled in hazy warmth
To rise again for what it's worth.
It rests against my fingertips
And tests the potential stored.

Second Day Born

Trust becomes a trinket exchange,
Another lace ties over the bridge
Tuned to the sound of my own name.
The pound of a wave of water pressed against my skin
Lifted, I was walked through thin air again.
A lightness the likeness of assurance
Of a mailbox every morning, a message every night
And the movie didn't even matter in the end.
She wrapped the name around a solid heart
A piece put back in that she once took apart.

Observe Life

Sleep so fast like I'm going under
The weather, soft explosions of rain.
A runny nose is wiped off
A sunny ghost lights off at 3 a.m.
Firework smoke to cataracts,
My retinas burn in lightheartedness,
Tracing it up the tracks with no names
But veins running thick with current,
Tangles of lightning left to tame.

Cinnamon Eggs

Delusion is tied down with a braided ring,
A conclusion is drawn on the length of a string
To hold it together, the texture and color that
Dominates my wrist in clasping undertones,
Humming the harmonies in sweet afterglow.
How much sugar does it take to give way
From the words that you speak
That don't mean what you say?
The melody nuzzles against your warm throat
And the sickness dies down in its thickness of coat.

LI/U Frequencies

The name is but a perceived notion of suspicion.
It becomes a prediction in the brain's matters,
Never to know what happens when the dialogue turns gray.
When past and present turns to shadows and light,
We jest at the truth to get past all the lies,
Rest after the work from the hands of a blind man.
Wine spilled into the sink after staining the wood,
Slipped into the grain of things we wish we understood.

New Roslyn

Irises are songbooks in the color of your eyes,
A blindness in quotations turned the first day of a life.
Liquid crystal interests in holding onto the frays
Made you deacon of deception and master of crochet.
This textual hypothesis of fact is repetitious,
But stands just as progressive as the lovely coming back.
The inspections lasted all through the night,
Untangling laughter from the weeping willow.
Your silhouette stained on scented pillows,
And you clung to me like a silly band-aid
Where I've always needed it the most.

Cherry Pulse Night

Soft light and softer skin
Pale as moonlight
Starlit grin.
Noisy curtains beckon
And lessen my control on light,
Exposing the colors,
Those other from what the night
Had once brought on the table.
Forgotten there and spoiled,
The milk was left in the stable
But shook my bones just as well,
Deep enough to find reflections.
Keep track of your intentions,
Speak me out of logic
For the light to match the eyes,
I'll forget I ever taught it
And untie it from our minds.

Good Winter For A Better one

A fan pulling from a closed window,
Panning engines and hydraulics,
Fading in and gliding out.
Wind catches under your wings
And slips you off your feet.
I excuse the silent asymmetry
Hidden in backdrop melon light,
I've every evening to suspect
Falling asleep in retrospect.

Played

You want it for the classic sound.

It's warm, familiar...

Yeah, the real thing.

The steady spiral pulled you in

As fast as it scratched you out.

Now it's an itch in the inner ear,

Now it's a stitch loosely knit

On the shoddy sleeve,

But thought of near enough.

Try to hide what was exposed

When the edges are rough

And the contents are known:

A record heard as decoration

For it's been spun out of control;

You know what happens next,

But the needle won't let go.

Closer for the Strangers

The morning silhouetted a friendly toast,
The evening charred black on the eastern coast.
Glasses were held not in celebration,
But to make it out of focus, to see the bigger picture
Made by the light smeared from morning to night.
The rain pressed against my face
As I rolled on through the night,
Every care had been abandoned
We are reckless, but united,
With hope we'll be alright.

Firestarters

My trust funds are combustible,

I am a liar with a streak.

My lies leak across the table,

A deck in every suit to mask the joker.
A hushed spark of laughter in the library,

I keep my studies in a matchbook

With every trial and error lesson taught,

Fought for with guns cocked

And caressing match heads on the box.

I'd singe the tips from recognition

If I wouldn't feel a thing.

This blind hope was a candle

To burn ambition in gasoline.

Purple Silly Band

The only thing that is back
Is when that person turns away,
There is no snap in the symbol to mean
More than what's been said and done.
Intended to become just another,
A little too self-aware
A little more a brother.
I am a block in the race
With my feet stuck on the ground,
A barrel on my back
And my face towards the hounds.

Trestles

The ocean spills through my open window.
I could taste the salt on the corners of my lips.
Remember the fear of investment
Remember the crescent before the crash,
The water rolls back and pulls in some sand
And covers my feet as I sink where I stand.
Steady this time, with the water's regression
Don't forget the silhouettes of a deeper impression.

The Eventually Clause

I wrote equations in the smoke,
Trying to hold the patterns in breaths
Of someone born with a crystal lung.
There were cautious steps
Pressed against fragile rungs
For the ascension into a precious suspension.
Fears were spun in a web,
Silence as soft as silk
As delicate as what the death of it would bring.
Your memory is left in golden strings,
Lesser every time I sleep,
Reduced to smoke that I can't breath.
I don't want to leave you here, eraser in ink.

False Alarm

This was a variation on a common theme,
A backlit reminder of where I've always been.
Because the sheets stayed still tonight,
The streets took back the night as quickly as it came.
I woke up in the morning looking for the seams,
But what seemed smooth were just the tightest stitches.
The river climbed up to the bridges,
The cutting room turned into the kitchen
Where I swallow it up until a new doctor calls.
The strength of a man depends on how well he falls.

A Post To Date

A tired summer fever kept us wired from our sleep,
Waiting for the sun to rise, glued in sticky heat.
We burned classics from a week of trust contact
Until the morning light made new secrets
To be kept underneath the sliding seat.
Linen turned to waterfalls
Staying up and missing calls.
There's someone outside,
We lie and wait for the beep.
The alarms are coming early,
She convinces me to sleep.

Don't Get Too Close

A misprint in a bestseller
Has become the fingerprint
For the investigator.
He was fixated on extraneous information,
But still straining to find his justification
At the bottom of a pitcher of sangria
To find that none of it was a good idea.
Earthy eyes, vanilla hair,
Well, can I just say that I wasn't aware
That coincidence would find the archived page,
That confidence could tear in such a way
And this ink would bleed onto the frays
So I'm left with so little room to say.

Time (The Catch)

Silence on the river, science on the roof.
The Boston skyline sunk into the river
Sitting on the edge of a shiverless night,
Fighting with words to find out the truth.
Another secret in your green and blue,
Restless until the message got through,
Clasped and released to fall asleep,
Sixteen hours, all to keep.

c:

A mirror facing outwards
Is effective both ways, simply glass.
A simple glance for a thousand chances
For an honest masquerade with the lights
Out and everything clear,
Nothing out of my sight.
The switchboard's sharp emissions,
Solid light that does not dim,
Are what I cannot unbecome
And everything I've always been.

Caught Up

This haphazard gap hazard has been relieved.
Cables are stable, suspended, we're free
From the burden of gravity.
We're floating over the tragedy,
But we sing in reminiscence at the water.
Landscapes were painted in her eyes
And nothing stopped her,
Except for her lashes that could retrace slumber.
I declared you a war for the sake of alliance
And you polished your charm, so harmfully vibrant.

Sassquatch

In precious fractures of seconds and sounds,
The acoustics split and slipped up your frown.
Smile! For the awkward and unexpected
Is wrapped with surprise there in the present.
In a place where home was no more,
It was encored and took us up
Three short of nine. The holy trinity
With a taste of less divinity.
There was ping pong in paradise
There was singing private symphonies,
But the apple tree was dangling
With the poison fruit that bit me.

The "Next" One

Ironic.
Almost iconic.
With the luck of a skeptic,
I should be more receptive to pocketless fortunes.
So I took up the time, but it wasn't enough
And innocence paid in insufficient funds.
In the matters temporal, of fractions and odds,
I heard a soft ticking that fear won't turn off.

Crossing Perspective

Bodies made the sentence,
But the words gave us our breaths.
It was the stench of stale whiskey and past anthems
Withheld in glazed ceramic,
And it was about time to be let out.
The pale yellow-brown sloshed about
As a lion paces the cage,
As we slipped into a warmer stage,
A swarming taste and broken ice
That buzzed about like dryer hives.
Each tessellation told a truth
As sweet as honey and as simple as youth.

[Tabs]

Fresh faces, labeled pages...
They were immortalized in a social medium,
So far from the moderation it needed.
Every name, a unique key in the shape of a pen
And its bold strokes cloaked what was then.
Faces turned red from the pressure,
Unmeasured perception of digital depth
Of plastic pressed against the skin too tightly.
It's not of the image made,
The blood now wanders free.
It's not of what you are sure,
It is all that you might be.

Bearings, Bearings...

Swing low, sweet fidelity,
I left my daughter in a burning city
And found my firstborn son,
The original sin with a magnetic spin.
Sing low, deep melody,
I rest my fodder in my wounds and pity
As I shook the compass in my hand,
But blood kept pumping by demand.

River Dance

A tremor shook under the stage
The script book slipped between the cushions,
The numbers to letters, goosebumps to sweaters.
Everyone with a reason to catch the breeze
But hoping not to catch a cold,
Holding on to metal wings with precious cargo
Beyond where a car could ever go.
Desert highways were arteries on dry skin
That cracked and collected at every city
And left tracks against the layered tissue,
Telling the stories in two separate currents,
Assuring each other that they'd have the courage.

Future Family Friends

I could spell it all backwards in the bubbles let out.
I left the sand asleep in my boat shoes
While consciousness sunk into my head again.
But we've got cars, buses, trains, and planes,
And blacklit gifts for the textual stains.
In the simplest way to alter the page,
The iconic chords of rolling hills
Were ironic shots traded with what we got
At what we once had, or thought.
Time-slapping, eyes closed,
Belting the words we've always known,
I drove down California in a dream,
Silhouette palm trees, red to green.
The dawn stretched neurons from behind my eyes
Before the lights went out and the evening died.

(mm/dd/yyyy)

My conscience hid under the sheets
As I slept through the emergencies,
Already convinced that I left
And that they wouldn't let me up.
I awoke in smoke for a refund
And was given change in the past tense.
The powerhouse is a vandal
Like the hibiscus scented candles
With the strength of sins on Christmas Day.
These are a few of the things in my name,
Etched in the bark of an old nameless tree
As timeless as the cold frameless sea.

Sillies, please.

My sweater was a grave, in which you buried your face
Before a reach-over retracted as sure as the name
Etched into stone cold shivers,
Impulses that go into hibernation.
Acknowledgments on the final slide,
The sun slips under the ocean's tide
Pushing out bubbles that rush up from the sand,
The day's last breath used up in a sigh.
A runway dissolves in wet darkness and foam
And leaves me to fly from what I've always known,
One more timely wish for the last stitch was sewn
That last track had played on which I took you home.

A Quarter Back In New New York

He'll take you to Cassadaga
Where the ends begin to fray
From the end of the beginning
To end of every day.
You could be his stitches
And tie your wishes on a string,
He'll wince before your needle
When you feed him what he needs.
Sterile is procedure,
It is not quite how it bleeds,
It's clogging at your leisure
Unless these lesions need to breath.
The pressure was your fingertips,
Spoke nourishment uncurdled.
He milked out every trace
To save his grace with written words.