A bag of potatoes and a baseball bat.
Is merely a sack of starchy vegetables and a sculpted metal stick.
But on this blustering evening a bag of potatoes and a baseball bat meant an infinity more than that.
In this fleeting moment, I felt solidarity with the fact that life doesn't make sense.
I looked at you in your adjacent flesh ridden essence and smiled at this opportunity to connect.
The bat clashing with the pock eyed potato skin.
Our existences colliding with ebb and flow of a maniac pulsation.
This is not merely a hackneyed show of baseball bat on a bag of potatoes.
This is a boy and a girl realizing that this ever sacred moment holds more gravity than merely a bag of potatoes and a baseball bat.
It's just that we can't conjure what makes it so rich and ever splendid... so thus it must be
rich and ever splendid as the potato is launched into flight igniting the curiously enraptured mind of boy and girl witnessing baseball bat on potato

There is blood on the brain,
Your hair on my floor,
Your glass still on my table
To evidence the night before.

You were a kindness,
My fantasy, my misery;
Blowing smoke out of the open door.
Brief surrender under the shelter of
Our shared and selfish storm.

You brushed your teeth in the mirror,
Heard you sing as you tied your shoes.
It was all you as you stared at your phone,
As I disappeared from your easy view.

You were vague and authentic,
Quick to the bone; the truth.
A desert scene of transparency-
I held you high and soft
Beneath the neutral moon.

There is warmth after rain
From where your light came through.
Sat here again, a drink in hand,
Toasting the shadow of you.

sleepwalking for one more hour.

sleepwalking for two decades with a protruding gut and
eyes as buried deep as petrified wood,
i’ve dug up a treasure-
a realization, if you will.
everyone will leave when they see the ice sheets on my bones.

a feather without a breeze,
a storm of acid rain,

wind currents in hibernation,

gasping, treading, begging for a direction to open eyelids,
sinking,
sinking,
losing oxygen-

marathons,
pockets filled to the brim with stones,
i am drowning as far inland as a swimmer can be,

i am a cold, cosmic dot and one hour will not burn enough energy-
my brothers and sisters in the cold, i am
one hour further away from leaving this lonely, unforgiving, jagged, racially segregated and
factory farming piece of terrain that has worn down my bones without ever using a blade.

one hour closer to the next heartbreak, to feeling my heart as a vase dropped down the stairs of an apartment complex, friendly enough to feel its walls in my soul like fresh lipstick on my cheek, apathetic enough to leave the shards under the jungle jim for weeks.

one hour further away from the dishonest dream of my grass-stained bare feet, no nails in tires, and mom singing to pop radio while making chicken-
one hour more distant from broken pencils and dad’s empty beer bottles. drifting like a poor, lonely cloud given the horrific gift of conscious thought, i am one hour further away.


sinking.

one more hour of frozen tundra,
i am waiting for daylight to come and pass
as a sheep without wool,
dying much too slowly,

for one more wretched,
godless
hour.

I made friends with the darkness
on the night the stars refused to shine
and the Moon hid her face from the Earth
Shadows took my hand
gifting me with lunar eyes
as a nocturnal wonderland
was unveiled before me
in all its darkened splendor
I walked the sleepy midnight pastures
under a black naked sky
a newly born creature of the night

Whimsical were the flowers
                              Their long eye lashes curling up in the wind.
                                         With every delight, they played
                                                       Their music
                                              Their listeners, the Earth
                                     They
                                               kept
                                                       On
                                                                Playing
                                 Until the moon told them it was night time
                                                        And they faded.