I open up smooth channels from cobwebbed
cellars to emerge at lake bottoms

Mine is the legacy of century old wasps trapped
in glass light fixtures attached to plaster
ceilings in Hong Kong and Siberia

I remember ancestors trapped in ice and
amber death screams preserved perfectly
eyes fixed on eternity

where spiders lurk unbothered
over the ******* of women warriors
and lions have eaten every man tempted

we cannot imagine the war engines they
eventually will create to unhinge us
from our proud and complacent positions

from which we perpetually ****

I put the heads of those come to reason on the walls
raised clean of explanation

I occupy observation towers swept with frost
and the listening posts during hopeless invasions

Forget it I came here to fight and
you'll bleed into your grafitti

which converted my thieves hand
into cognac soaked

mandolin adagios

I'm not the one
my words are scalded chants
which are not Art unless you
perish this minute

I sing bass in the street like
Walt except I **** women
If you read Latin my children
are graffiti

She said Let's go tonight and
drink drink drink
Fine I said
Now the world is our blood

I keep you next to me since
I'm a dead man for rock and roll
And you will stay alive
Like a song in the streets

I am Ether
and it's hard luck these days
with nobody making you famous

There is a lead cloud pregnant
with memories worse than burns
raining like errant artillery

I have to bite with my best teeth
to rewind pleasure and fossilize
painful reputations

You put murderers tattoos on my
social membrane by a diseased loop
Obviously I run like a rabbit and

backflip and rip in half the sky
Anonymity boils
Jarry shoots his ephemeral pistol

outside the theatre at fictional
Paris of your half dream
these ghosts circle your nerves

bleeding christmas sugar
gasping kerosene charisma
atop the peak of repute

I am making a desicion
to clean my body of
your hollow whispered bruises
cracks in my diaphragm
your words left sizzling there
like acid that dripped from your lips
I forgot the deception that swam from your eyes
I have never been stupid
enough to believe
that you were only one
when there were three.
But we stood and watched that house burn
never feeling colder,
than we did that night.
Im sorry your brother died and took
your parents with you.
So you are an orphan that
demonstrated car crashes
in the mere rhythm of your hands
or melody of your speech.
But I find myself drawn to angry cobalt blue eyes
too often enough to know that
I cannot grapple out of your choke-hold
and frozen fingers will bruise me every shade of your
roaring ocean-like blue.
I can only admire the sapphire in your soul from a distance
and hope the red ruby rage turns to wine and not blood.
I have left my marks on too many wooden floorboards, pleaded with too many icy aquamarine eyes;
from boys with steel in their voices but a fury in their hearts.
Too many fingernails stuck between infinite spaces somewhere in houses
where the silence reminded me of the stillness of a teal lake in spring
your eyes are reminiscent of a grey morning I do not wish to remember
I will leave a mark here.

They stuff cotton down your mouth
Because it’s the only thing that doesn't choke you
When they try to muffle your sounds out
But you scream with your eyes better than you
Ever did with words

It’s a sharp sound that hurts to look at
And you knew that contradictions were the best arguments
you said  “Arguments are the best way to show someone
How much you love them because
you are giving them your words
And that is the best thing to give.”  disagreement said “Or you could give em’
Some of your M&M;’s.”

They hung mosaics of your destruction on the walls and called it “Art”
So you punched a hole through your bathroom mirror and called it “Creation”
Spent the fourth day naming your shards “Zues” “Cordelia”. Saved the sharpest one
And called it “Helen”, said “Pain only ever hurts when its beautiful.” Disagreement said
“You’re a ****** up sadomasochistic *****”

On the fifth day you dreamt your father held you
Except it wasn't your father it was a ******* who found you
frozen to a street light
On the sixth day you called me and said: “I have a name for creation;
It’s destruction.”
On the seventh day they found you praying to the  images on a TV screen
Holding onto a mathematical calculation in your hand
Calling it the formula to happiness
The numbers spelled out




D   R  U  G  S

Your heaven has failed me
On the days when I felt loading up the dish washer was a
Personal assault on my psyche
Your god has-
Run me over with his fists too many times
And made me believe it was paternal pat’s on the back
All the-
Pain I was feeling,
You carry the gravel in your teeth
To make sure its full of grit,
When you speak,
I say;
“you’re full of ****”

You say im just weak for the things
That have made me unholy.
I am weak for the things that have unbroken me.
These words are shrapnel
You let them sink into our skin there is no more dirt to chew
I will spend my last moments
Holding onto the ******* noose
I’m going down swinging
And if that means I’ll hang
So be it
There are worst ways to die

I know
Because I’ve died before

Nothing special happens. Ya’ll can stop dreaming.

Kindness isn’t supposed to taste so bitter
Being saved
Isn’t supposed to hurt so much
You-
Never knew how much the night sky despised the daylight
Until you moved to a country where it gets longer every year
You never knew how kind
The sun was to your skin-
Ive got tan lines where my noose used to swing
It took me three years to untie myself
And I still have scars

Whether they will be there or not in a few more years
I guess ill stick around and see just
How much ive
lost

guiding
blank page muses
and muses riding *******
horses with iron honey legs
they combust in liquid
and finger themselves
in darkroom thighs
fluorescent ***
in the eaves of heaven
i wanna drip off your fingers
and
onto your belly
and
rollerskate into
your ****
and
tattoo your
lips shut
with sewn butterflies to the skyfields
the
skygrass
and
skykisses
and
name myself after your
blank spaces
and the forest fire days
of august new years

no one talks about you anymore
but i still
wonder the
way the salt
wonders about the tears
and the dark about
the midnight
if that really was
you
a valley out of the winding
sheets
and into the golden haired
hands of a long ago love
well practiced with incision

touchstones around my neck
little purple precipice
tips caress
wet scar tissue
plastic surgeon amiss
slice, two, three, four
in and out of the cavern
enveloped in sadness
keep my eyes glued to his
in the throws of passion
cover my orifice
is it over?
writhing, bones ruining
my chance of circumcision

my body
            wants
                 to move
                               in
                   rhythm
        to your
heart

**** people,
who tell me to be calm.
talk to my mother ******' hand.

every little thing is an excuse
    to explode.  
              reaction, action, explosion,
                        and ultimately implosion.

i act out emotionally coz
i don't want to deal with myself.
more and more i'm being less of a
            drama queen.

but i'd be ****** if i let go of my
               inner queen.
     coz when's she's not loco,
        she's wise and kind.

even straight self identifying
queer men with father issues
        can unleash their
                  queen.