fan.
every Sick god
damns
break neck
ties your feet
fetishes your faith
ends
you to giggles
wiggles you apart
a foot out the shoe
the guts exposed
stringing your theories
on the board
in an appropriate order
for you to look at
go insane with. such pith
in the packed box
people squirming
barely an inch
of
breathing
room
we're very alone
and hungry
hip posing
postulating
desperately trying
to make
every one buy
highsell very low
our story with its interesting
plot line. fine
bye from 18 stories
fed up
put down
that angry smile
signing emotions
out in
sweeping hand gestures
cupping the dirt
gathered from that
seeing how it smells
how you can best present it.
till its all meetings and talking
points to the dripping sky
all those tears on your face
no different under the wash
of rain. just wet.
philosophy. in the She form pt. 2
She is in front
of me at the check out. talking
about happiness.
this one woman
leveled by make
up, defines the word
for two others.
her eyes shine, both
eyebrows startled.
everytime She actually
says the word
happy
her voice raises
an octave. like
willing this elusive
creature back out
the woods for us
to see. everything
was more
when it was done loudly. the
measuring cup hanging
gardens of pitch
and the proper show
of excitement with
moveable parts. She
talked of making
your outside a finely
manicured front
lawn her fingers
swept over
her own face for emphasis.
comment on how nice
things are, She said
use specifics
express mild amusement.
one of her people
tried to interject a question
but She swept it away
with those fingers
letting her eyes take
on an empathetic look
that pleaded for you to get it.
i wished
it wasn't an express
line. they moved
on with those 3 bottles
of sparkling
water and a receipt.
the cashier didn't seem
to buy it. when i
moved up my
whispered
hello
barely heard over
the quiet roar
of beeps and buying.
i will eat your liver bones.
i have a twin brother
i have alopecia
i read slower than i use to
i like the series,"planet earth"
i have a dad who flew commercial jetliners
i have a mom who is 5 foot 2
i gave up on philosophy because the drugs were bad
i sumtimes drive around the block
by my house
to finish a song im rockin to
i get exited about being exited
i am not nearly as dark
as my writing would have you think
i am not nearly as happy
as my personality in real life
would have you think
i am listening intently
when im being quiet
even when im looking away
i sumtimes intentionally
stay awake late at night
so i can watch you,
even if you're not there,
inside my imagination
i like writing screenplays
as much as i like writing poetry
but not nearly as much as i like writing prose
i like sweet things for the first time
in my life
this past year
i wonder about the origins
of our universe
and the creatures that dwell in it
everyday. no matter what
i stopped praying regularly
i fixate on things.
the left side of my sternum
protrudes more than my right
creating the illusion of a chest muscle
..
