july reaching's still to august,
whose days in general be more modest,
and september blowths the future cool,
june's present's past's hot-headed fool.

across the grass, the highrise
becomes the horizon,
as i lie on my back in the park,
and the line that separated land from sky
runs now vertically on
through evening into the dark.

a hawk without feathers,
skin, hollow bones,
its avianness severed by the wickedness it knows,
it sits upon a house,
the house that's always stood,

(by the cave with the painted walls,
after the massacre
     of the neanderthals;
by the agora, where the voting took place,
     in sight of which they signed
     constitutions
     and other contracts in black typeface;
by the workplace;
by the banks;
downtown,
     between the metal-glass towers,
     footpath from it
     to the corridors of power)

out of time, it is: a Wormwood,
where men gather to unaffix themselves from the good.
the hawk has eyes of malice,
it watches as you come to the door,
inside, it smells of money, might and phosphor
us.

early eve, an august day,
the shadow's long but
end of summer still far away,
the heat is less
than it was yesterday,
the sun is less by then-until-today,
but already I am burying it all away,
nightfall echoes,
people,     on their way home,
that's the way it all goes.
early eve, an August day,
a warm wind blows
life down the hallway of the choices we have made,
it used to be may and may it be
may again someday

It's ***** in your shirley temple
sweet like syrup
give me life so simple.
Dad once told you
your mom went mental
punishment for being gentle
mindlessly experimental.
It's not true
she just wanted to leave him
because the baby came and
he won't stop cheating.
Life is hard
you took a beating
I will salve
and stop the bleeding.
Cut my shirt
it's sacrificial
cover up
loud wolf whistle.
Pigtails bouncing
childhood giggle
I'm your girl
your hellfire missile.
Chop the tree
and hang the tinsel
this year is better
almost sinful.
Guilty catholic
death feels massive
give me something
to feel passive.
Life is so short
it just passes
we're too happy
on our *****.

Air is full of micro plastics
I don't care
forgot my mask is
hanging in my
high school classes.
Gone true beauty -
false eyelashes.
You're a show car, you're just so classic
let them ride
when you're high on acid.
Swirling visions
swift collision
I saw you there
in a sick prevision.
Sweet slow dancing
in your kitchen
give me your hand
and let me fit in.
I could save you
cinematic
it's meant to be
nothing tragic.
Saw you crying
in the attic
wasted breath
and wasted talent.
Kiss your check
you're not a has been
tastes like salt lick
compulsive action.
I see you in a
main attraction
replay every
interaction.
Obsessive in
a healthy fashion
filled with longing
full of passion.

Regret every
check I cash in
economic low and
nothings lasting.
Mid life crisis
find your vices
look at you with
blown out iris.
Someday we'll find
a way to fight this
belief of justice
violently righteous.
Simple cheek kiss
idiotic kindness
purposeful blindness
in the face of hard times
someone guide us.

Glittering sea glass in the windowsill
I remember the ocean
but I'm lonely still.
I don't want to find happiness
through a tight packed pill
give me a value,
and put it in my untimely will.

I found a way out once
and now it's all I can think about
cold black metal
stuck in an open mouth.
Couldn't punctuate the sentence
now I am without
a plan or a passion
its all gone south.

I'm sharp like a bottle struck on the wall
I remember everything
can't forgive at all.
When will all this damage and tossing
do some good
when will I be handled softly
like pine becomes wood?
Looking for a statue of success
where a mother's first disappointment
once stood.