i love caterpillars

the beauty comes
from the quivering pulse
that is the battle
between desire
and restraint.

this is where the walls crumble
and send shockwaves
through the earth
and up your legs
and into your soul.

and im happy to be
your enemy.

ive made poetry.
im happy.

when the top dog prevails
on a small enough island
the food source depleats
and the species will die.

you can look at the ground
to watch the ants
or look at the sky
to be one being watched.

they keep trying to break in
but thats not where i keep it.
i keep it down below.
and it slowly leaks and leaves me
and it gives itself away for free.

..they try to steal my love.

the devil lives between us
but we marry.
& the devil lives inside of us
so we make wars with swords
to open our bodies
to let out the devil
to **** what keeps us
from loving each other.

youre in the sky
pouring everything
out of your mouth.

i was dry
but now im drowned.

your mind
run away from me
on fire

then run back
and beg me
to subdue it.

she spreads her legs open
and i climb inside
and die.

everything good funnels down
into the jowls of a frothing,
ill-natured beast.

you come and you go.

when there is nothing besides poetry
it terrifies me.

the yolk is more achieved than i.

the shell is what
keeps me waiting.

a film of frost formed over everything for almost forever
but fell off fast when every form
finally felt fever.

too depressed to *******
I need someone to talk to.
life runs its course
and I of course
I never got a walk-through.

science is the shell
encapsulating the
oddly shaped object
of truth.

people have no souls.
but souls have the people.

multipictoramagraph

if i were to cut off
a piece of my flesh
or a finger
or even an ear
it would crawl
the way a slug crawls
to your house
slither into your bed
and sleep in your mouth.

i sit here and try to be still.
within minutes im a skeleton
in a wooden chair.

i wonder who
all of you people are
passing in and out of my life.

.

you still walk into my soul sometimes.
and i sort of look at anything to distract me.
you might be my health but i dont want to steal yours.

there is no straight line
to this point.

ive spoken to you before.
your mouth catches it all
and ***** it in
somewhere into your purse.

.

the spiders in my dream
crawl out through my ear
and into my shelter.

i wake
and watch them
while they sleep.

there is no straight line
to this point.

ash is a physical shadow
you only can see
with the light
of your mind

im trying to write my soul down
before it leaves.

myself as a child
was a teacher to me now.
i knew then
that everything
is alive.

-god

my head lays in my hands.

it must be exausted.

my neck
must be
somewhere
off in the distance.

he played it on my guitar
36 years after he wrote it.
and my guitar made
his sounds appear.
and when we become that dust again
we'll be broken down into something
born from sound.
something that truly listens.

the dog stands
so still
at the
half open door
but im
frozen
and cant
let him in.

you got a cigarette in jail.
and I smoked one on my birthday.
in Atlanta.
but now I smoked one all by myself.
neither tastes better than the other. but if I'm in jail on my birthday again I will let you know which is sweet,
because so far I can't taste anything

i enjoy my author.
he is a good author.
i love my author.
he does not think highly of me.
i can not cope.
i will end it all.
goodbye.

so give it up...
here, ill inspire you.

words
tend to become lost
in poetry.

poetry tends to become
lost in
thought.

thought tends to become
words.

they all died
and im crying.

when the truth comes out
it hurts everyone in the room.
like giving birth to a stick of
lit dynamite.

when you learn to love everyone
it helps in realizing that u don't need to love anyone in particular.

the costume is a veil

evil lives and evolves
all of our lives
to love.

evil always lives
and evolves our vile lives
to love.

theres a deep root i cant quite share
but it becomes tired of everything
including myself
and i love it.

the trash in my mind
should be burned.

smooth stones.
round puddles.
no corners at all.

there were spirits,
spirits wanting.
someone to inhabit.
a body to be pregnant withem.

the room was a woman.
smooth dress.
no bra.

i love the way sentences fall into formation.

no two people kiss the same.
they only kiss
the way they kiss
when they kiss each other.

i cant wait to see it all crumble
and cave in my skull
so i cant think of it.

a rain frog
sits on my window
and i wonder
if its me.