do not even blink;
once it's out
there's no holding back
what follows;
lids and eyelashes
keeping in check
all of this
salty bitterness,
a levy or a dam,
and I'd never rhyme your tears
with anything

When you take your last and final gasp
In the very spot that you last sat
And they empty your pockets of all you have
I wonder what they'll find

Will it be a lot of fluff and lint
Meaningless stuff on what you spent
Your hard earned dime, your last good cent
What will you leave behind

Is that how they will remember you
The pocket stuff that they pick through
How much will stand in the truth
And how much will be lies

Think about it now before you drop
With what will you fill your pockets up
Will it be more than enough
To get you to the other side
When you leave all this behind

Singing for the lost
while praying they'd come back home
to a lonely nest.

His words are fluid yet languid until
he changes tongues and becomes another
person entirely. His sounds become strong
and incomprehensible as he weaves
his way from language to language, dialect
to dialect. He is the manager
of worlds, the linguist. In his mind, his original
language is not his, for he is only
relaxed when amongst the foreign nature
of other languages. The rasping, uncommon
tongue of home is not comforting to him
anymore, so he will rapidly intake
other places until he finds another
sound that resonates within him.

It’s perfect nonsense to suggest that, whether venal or mortal,
It would announce itself with fanfare and hullabaloo,
All but taking out a three-column ad in the trades
To trumpet its arrival.
Its métier has always been the dimly-lit corner,
The whispered admonition,
The ****** room in a somewhat undesirable neighborhood,
And while it is certain that it accompanied us
As we emerged, still scaly and seaweed strewn, from the sea,
It did so on a light unsullied by moonlight,
Surfacing silently with the least desirable of piscine attributes in tow.

Quiet morning.
Successful surgery.

No tv!
Watch weather.

Do nothing.
Be nameless.

Suppose cows.
Scare crows.

Harmless habits.
Armless robot.

Like a delusion.
A late night movie.

Expect to forget
and be forgotten. Information.

Interstate.
Toilet seat.

How soon after cryogenesis
can one cry or *******?