I wake to a buzz then
go back to sleep

for a few more hours
the day is too long

anyway

it squeezes the darkness
from the night

tries to make me
pretend to be happy

but I am the moon

cool blues
deep oceans
long nights

a howl

I share my words
with others

whatever they
may be

and if you
were to

question me
about my words

if I was
to tell you

about my words
I would say

I dip my heart
in a stew of

sadness and
hope

and serve
whatever

comes out

sleeping in
a fluffy
flower bed

dripping
drowning
in dangerous
dreams

scenes of
water

falls
storms
showers

lapping
in the last
breath

waking to

the mystery
of new skin

so many young
years still

waiting
to be lived

there are so many
mirrors

on the earth

they give us
questions to

ask ourselves and

when I face one
I ask myself

what is the human
thing to do

she is young
relatively

but we have
asked so much of her

she feels like
she is breaking

from all these demands

sometimes I laugh
when I think

too much or when
I see myself

in a mirror

and sometimes I don’t

he is not
a country

no one is

no matter
what they

tell you

we are
people

real people
mixing with

real people
with real

needs and
desires

that is a
country

we can
disagree

with each
other and

still live
together

as a country

no matter
what they

tell you

sing a song
to me

like you used to

make it soft
and sappy

so I can sleep
and dream

happy dreams

please

sing a song
to me

like you used to

…
…
…

your voice
is weak today

or my memory
is fading

call him names
like dad

he is late again
or not coming

again

wait outside
for him

again

look down the street
for him

again

the sky is
filling with
stars

country silence
surrounds you

cricket songs
serenade you

wait for him
again

call him names
next time you

see him

we take a walk
in the woods

stepping on
our shadows

breaking sticks
and throwing
stones

whispering words
that never hurt us

we hold hands
and wait long enough

for a black turtle
to cross our path

the laughing cackles
from over there

lips of a pack
of perfectly
manicured hyenas

unable to control
their simple natures

they speak simple and
repeat each other

simply

they would choke
on three syllable

words and

I would laugh
but they don’t

deserve my
sense of humor

we are at the age
when nature speaks

and we reach

for the green at
the top of the trees

when pain burrows
into the soul

of a child
it can live

off small things
for many years

growing slowly
it becomes an

attachment an
*****

another part
of his life

another part
giving him

life or so
he thinks

but it is a
symbiote

with a voice
of its own

seeming to be
just another

one of his voices

it is so bad
I don’t even want

to take sides anymore
I don’t want to

believe in any
of them and

I never really have

I want to believe
in our system

that it will be
bigger than any

one human

every human is
biased and
potentially corrupt

(the truth about us
humans cannot be
avoided)

but maybe together
we can create

something that
checks our

most base instincts
(to self-preservation)

and maybe
it can last

and that is the

basis of our
system

to help us check
each other and

ourselves

but check is
an action

and if it does
not occur

(if people don’t
perform their roles)

then why does
it matter

what was
all of this

for

has the grand
experiment

failed in the end

lost without
my shadows

I can’t see
in the light

I need at
least a bit

of gray

things can’t
be clear

for very long

I will scrape
away the

shiny veneer
and look for

the oozing pus
I will discover

the secrets of
the beginning

so I can start
all over again

I have always
had an uneasy

relationship
with you

knowing I
needed you

but not wanting
to know that

when I didn’t
have you

I wanted you

when I had you
I didn’t want you

in the official room
sides are clearly drawn

it is trench warfare
no one dare stick

their neck out

the atmosphere
is filled with
twisted words

emanating
from knotted
tongues

beginning in
corrupt minds

truth is
an outline on
a sidewalk

the ******
weapon is
the quest for

power (or money)
(or both)

it always has been

she woke me
too soon

I am not ready
I do not

understand
what is

happening

the world
is different

and I don’t
fit into

my roles

the structure
is changing

and I don’t
know if I

belong or
if I have

a choice

each step
I take is

a dance
without
a partner

everyday
is a practice

for a life
I never live

it starts
first thing

waking up
the sensation

is clear
the cause

is not

some thing is
amiss

the insides
have bugs

crawling
everywhere

and everything
everyone

says or does
sends them

into a frenzy

today you
have no

friends or
family

everyone is
your enemy

and you don’t
know why

you are irritated

if I was
not me

I might
be you

tears are the
first to go

my heart is
marble

a bust of you
before you left

in quiet days
I am an implosion

little voice
inside my head

talk me through
tonight

whisper me to sleep

say a prayer
like you believe

in me

long white
neck stretching

towards the
moon

delicate
silk

angelic
light

surrounds
the sound

your voice
lifting

my heart

slowly
vibrates

me to
sleep

I was
without

you took
me along

gave me
so much

within

words can link us
to each other

but your words are
not bridges

so please don’t fall

the cliffs are jagged
and you could

accidentally land
on a point

then what would
we do

touch me

without
fingers

whisper
words

that reach
deep

inside

breathe life
into

my dead spots

resurrect my
soul

make me
feel

too much

overwhelm
me

make me
lose

my words

make me
blubber

and shed

and they write
of monsters

taking our
pain and

making it
inhuman

creating the
misshapen
creatures

that terrorize us

separating us
from ourselves

telling us
we are not
real

because of
how we feel

but what is
more human

than pain…

perhaps
the memory
of our pain

we must live
with everyday

the misshapen
creatures who

share our bodies
and make us

whole

we worship
the sun

and watch
her smile

she holds
the moon

in her
tiny fingers

squeezing
light

from inside
the darkness

hope can’t
exist

without fear
and we wait

for her whisper
when everything

hard turns soft
and love becomes

the basis of life

seeds hold

the secrets
of life

the patterns
that make us

the same

we bury
them and

hope no one
notices

we are not
really unique

but seeds never
remain buried

and secrets are
always told

and we see

ourselves
in each other

even if we
refuse to

admit we

all come from
the same seed

the geese are
returning

early this year

it was not that
cold this winter

the vortex did
not descend

upon us

and hover
over us

endlessly

everything was
not frozen

in place

and even with
all this relative

warmth around me
it does not

enter me

I am not
so happy

this year

I

when I was young
you cut me with

your words

I bled out slowly

when I was young
I was a tear

flash floods

salt and water
burning skin

when I was young
I was broken

not like a bone
that heals with

time

II

I share a lot
with my words

and
you think it is

everything

you think you
know me

from my words

you think I
am exposed

but I am never
completely naked

I wear masking tape
to hide my

deepest scars

letters are limited

but words and meaning
are limitless

and truth is timeless
and difficult to reach

she was young
without direction

her road
was not paved

each step
was rough
on her bare feet

and she slipped
so many times

cutting herself

leaving partly healed
scars all over

the lonesome
highway is
eternal

once it finds you
there are no off-ramps

only rest stops

it feasts on
roadkill

leaving behind
the softest parts

is a spiral
of learning

finding the next
seed

solving the
next problem

knowing there

is no ultimate
source

at least

not one
you will find

in your lifetime

but you keep
searching

believing there
is an ideal

for everything
you believe

the world is dying
the weight is heavy

we give our power
to stupid people

hungry thirsty
stupid people

who think not
of others

who care not
for others

they fight each
other through us

we are the dying

and as bob sang
so many years ago

we are the world
not them

I run and hide
I always have

since I was
very young

maybe it is
depression

I don’t know

I don’t disappear
completely

I’m not a ghost

but I need to
go away

for a while

sometimes
far away

sometimes
to my room

never to return
to the same place

but no place
is ever the same

many people
have met me

but few have
known me

I’m not a mystery
I just need to be

alone

she felt alive but
she did not know

if she was

he told her things

but he was the
only one

so she had no
comparison

she felt unique but
she did not know

if she was

there were versions
of her

before

but isn’t that
true of all of us

did she have a
heart?

wet metal
flows but

is it blood?

her feelings
flow but

is it love?

the net catches
everything and

releases nothing

there is a reason
we forget

but the net
never forgets

can you really
call something
that doesn’t forget

a memory?

dark brain
clouds form

portending
a storm of
confusion

the words
they speak

are too high
to be understood

combined
they form
nothing

of meaning

each side
drawing
conclusions
first

and then
looking for

words to
justify
themselves

telling their
followers

what to believe

never explaining
why

information
is easy

knowledge
takes work

and wisdom
asks for

everything

and I taste
the new fruit

plump and ripe

just begging
to be bit

I place the
whole thing
in my mouth

I linger on
the sweet
taste

of the flesh

between my
sharpest teeth

letting the
juices
drip

down my
cheeks

til my
shirt is
soaking
wet

til there
is nothing
left but

the pit

I spit
it out

and walk
away

satisfied

her sweet scent
an aroma

of desire
fulfilled

I feel the
satisfying
sting

a rush of
pleasure

for the first time
I am still

mind, body
and soul

wanting nothing
more I am

resting in her
blanket

I am dissolving
into dust

being nothing
more than

I am

the thoughtful
the clever
the deep thinker
the simple not simplistic
the idealistic
the insightful
the naïve
the lonely
the quiet
the detached
the curious
the stranger
the playful
the funny
the analytic
the learned
the complex not complicated
the aware
the pop-cultured
the scared
the scarred
the damaged
and broken

…me and
people like me

pain is a shadow

the lingering
stalking darkness

alive in the
most active
parts

of the mind

unable to see light
it is an earthworm

eating dirt
it has no end

tear it into pieces
and the pieces will

grow and spread

and eventually
it will become

so familiar you
won’t want it to leave

because then you
will be alone

I

and when the world
was so big

we stood on mountains
and held out our arms

believing we could fly
anywhere and land safely

everything was open
nothing was too far

and time had no end

II

but that was another time
and time does have an end

the world has shrunk
and we has become me

and I realize that

each time I said no
I cut my own wings

stunted my own growth
and now I am afraid to fly

not knowing if there is a
safe landing anywhere

I am less certain than most
how could I be anything else

doubt was my father
the one who raised me

the one who lives in me
the one who has always

looked out for me

nothing stays the same
so how could you know

you can only think you know
but I don’t think that way

the church named me thomas
and god is a stranger

how could he be
anything else

just because it’s
in my head

doesn’t mean it
isn’t real

and I thought

the world is
different

than I imagined
it to be

and when we were
drunk

tom told a riddle
that we did not

understand

but we laughed anyway

I am no longer
whole

I am separating
from my meaning

entering other worlds

smaller worlds with
smaller meanings

I can no longer
see the future

so I hold onto
the past

or pieces of the past

small islands that
keep me afloat

I look for other
islands to connect to

hoping together
we can create

a new world

but with small
meanings we

can only create
small worlds

she didn’t tell secrets
but she liked to whisper

her words were never shallow
and she was never scared

no matter how far we sank

she sang songs I never heard
and taught them to me

we sang songs they never heard

the sky is dark

I am high
above the world

lying alone
on the floor
almost asleep

purple wine
coloring
my lips

outside the lines

I am listening to
the wind whip
against glass

there was a
warning tonight

gusts reaching

the windows
shake but they
do not break

just strong enough
for now

I turn away
and pull the
blanket

over my head

I reach deep inside
and feel my soul

it has another
small crack

it is just strong enough

I caught you
waiting

the room
was mystical

diseased spirits
haunting

it was never
quiet

or still

everyone moved
but got nowhere

the girl
with no bones

collapsed on
the floor

no one helped
her

so she slept

the people in
masks

danced in the
corners

making sure

not to touch
each other

the babies in
the bellies

tried to remain
in place
they checked on us
but never checked

us in so

we all waited
past dawn and

while time passed

the dates on
our bracelets

never changed

sharp
things
cut

sharp
words
****

when you
speak to me

speak to me

straight
honest

use the
simplest
words

make
them
penetrating
and insightful

deep inside
of me

make them so
true that

they spread
into my cells

and **** all
my

misunderstandings