shed like
a cat but

make it tears

leave them
everywhere

so everyone
gets them

all over
themselves

so they find
them in

the strangest
places

and wonder
where they

came from

and on those
nights

the waters grow
still and

there is no flow
all thoughts

become one
and they

don’t spread
they burrow

toward the
bottom

where the
dark creatures

swim

I could drown
it would be

so easy

she takes a
photograph

of speed

my brain
is a neutron

bomb

the earth is
a dangerous

place

humans have
existed for

a breath

I am is the
first name

of god

she cut bangs

a straight line
a frame for
pain

sharp nose
subtle skin

eyes that
never lie

lips that
never open

without reason

a body with
long branches

and deep roots
a mind tattooed

with history
everything in

memory

I want her
to remember me

all cells are alive
the first night

goose bumps
and heart thumps

bones ache
the earth quakes

time suspends itself
on a loop

all sounds blend
when bodies bend

the dictionary

is filled with
empty pages

there is no desire
to explain anything

I left it
alone

with the tightest
of grips I hold
on to what was
become a statue
no one wants
to visit or clean
so that
all the hardness
holding me
together
turns me brittle
and like an old
leaf meeting
two feet
I break apart
and dissolve
into dust

and last night in
a wondrous dream

I attended the
wedding of one

paris hilton at a VFW

sitting around folding tables
in white folding chairs

we all laughed and danced

I woke up thinking
may we all live in peace

I have this mind

it is too heavy
to float

I sink in thought
and drown in

theories or dreams

weaving equations
or explanations

depending if I
fancy numbers

or words

sometimes my mind
is so heavy

I can’t get out
of bed for days

without
reflection

there is
only
others

to blame

soulless
means

there
is no

growth

there
is no

learning

there is
no

intention

there is
only *******

from others

to survive

the first girl
was a mystic

a gust of wind
a thunder clap

her hair was black
her heart was open

she asked me
to religion

we crossed
our arms

and prayed
to our past

the mothers and
fathers of our

fathers and mothers

asking forgiveness
for what was to come

lost in the
crazy vein

is a magic
carpet ride

to desire
succumb

to the
succubus

she stares
into the void

seeing her
beautiful
reflection

wink at her

hearing her
voice sing

that song
she loves

she sings in
my language

breathes in pain

and swirls it
around inside her

until it creates sparks

spitting out fire
and flames

I burn in
her words

becoming a pile
of ash then

rise again with
a new level

of understanding

her body
is a formula

a mathematical
recipe for

perfection
and control

each muscle

has a voice
in a chorus

singing hymns
declaring devotion

to her gift

I feel religious
when I watch

her dance

we take turns

writing down
our secrets

we memorized
the pattern

for creating
a perfect flight

we press
down hard

on each fold

we find a place
where we can

be alone when
the air is calm

so each flight
ends safely

in our hands

you gave into the
slow strangulation

of blood

passed from one
to the other

family is fate
seeds crack

and spread disease
one man after

another falls
look into the mirror

see the past
play the game

tag you’re it

shaving the skin
of a lemon

creating zest
adding just a

hint of flavor
to my dull life

it is that easy
to please me

he ate hate
it could not
be digested
it was a seed
of a ****
that sprouted
and grew
and spread
into his soul
so he could
not be separated
from it
it had no
specific need
other than to
spread itself
so he spewed
its seed to others
and they ate hate
it could not
be digested

an egg
on the edge

cannot float
it falls

we fall
the abyss

is not as far
as we think

we think
we are high

but we are
rolling down

the hill
toward the

edge we
cannot float

like an egg

you told him a secret

a magical cure
a protection

from evil

and he believed you
after all you are you

so why shouldn’t he
so he took it

the end

I hope I am
an onion

or maybe a lemon
or a grapefruit

anything but a
tangerine

years of being ignored

she swallowed her words
they piled up in her pit
and turned to poison
she wished she was a snake
the kind who could spit

and dissolve anyone
in her way

I have his picture
postcard

on my refrigerator

a bit creepy
his picture

and maybe having
it there

black and white
troubled face

a frown

long forehead
big bowtie

deep set
piercing eyes

it’s just I
owe him

learned so much
from him

how to express
myself

learned it is okay
to be dark

sometimes

you were
number 2

and never
wanted to

be number 1
you were

the perfect
shape for

my hand

the perfect
color for

my eyes

my perfect
day was

when you
were sharp

and didn’t
break

god I
miss you

it never stops

now that people
are paid so much

to do it

I want to turn
it off

but I don’t

it feeds my mind
it diseases my mind

it doesn’t make
me think

it doesn’t give me
space to think

it stops me from
thinking

it makes me drink

no one knows
the future

but we all talk
like we do

he stands
above you

speaking
thinking

his words
are strong

enough to
carry you

but you
are seeing

a cage not
clouds

the world is
new to you

and you
won’t take

his words
for it

we experiment
with sounds

drumming on
our shells

trying to reach
the deep place

detached
lovers ache

and moan
whether

together or
alone

we use the
sharpest tool

in the shed
to cut out

our hearts
we don’t

use them anyway

we are brains
in a jar of vinegar

on a shelf
in the garage

happiness is
a butterfly

it lands on
us from

time to time
live in its

beauty and
peace

when it
chooses you

and grant
it the freedom

to leave
when it

is time
don’t worry

your time
will come

again

every day I ask
for less

training my soul
for tomorrow

the world is
cracking up

creating more
sides and nothing

to connect them
so everything is

a line we dare
not cross

in the real world
the earth has

no lines or
borders or

boundaries
in the real world

the equator
is a man-made

myth

power is
poison

it should
always be

diluted
weakened

until it
can do

no harm
the people

who seek it
in its purest

form

are those
who seek

to do the
most harm

to the people
and the planet

this beautiful
complex man

with the magical
voice

a master of
wonder and

words that
help me

develop
imagination

and feelings
that want

to be shared
he speaks

and I listen
and speak

for myself

I was hiding

this skin my
perfect cover

who would
look for a

soul so soft
and beautiful

radiant and
forgiving

inside this skin

she waits for
the wind

to twist her
she knows

this world is
not for her

she is nature
she is distance

this world
has no space

it is filled
with artificial

she cannot
understand

its language

she is silence
she is birth

waiting for
the wind

to take her

it’s funny
they want
a newborn
baby
to cry
to tell us
they are
alive it
is a sign
of life
a sign
they are
going to
be alright
why is
that only
applied
to babies

she paints

fingers as
needles

penetrating
points

her lips
can’t reach

she knows
where I

buried my
true self

but she
keeps it

to herself
and her

paintings
of me

winter licks
your cheeks

leaving strawberry stains

white drops
color your
thick hair

making you wise
beyond your years

crystal knives
hang from
the trees

you lie down
making an angel

playing a
waiting game

a white rose
petal plucked

before it
was ready

discarded so easily

the gentle fall
without sound

floating on
a breeze

a soft landing
into restless sleep

so bright it was
going to be

who can hear
eternity when

it cries

skin like
paper

to cut or
be cut

she is
vulnerable

in his hands
in his words

she goes to
the place

she can be
alone

raises the
temperature

to scorch
and screams

dreaming
she is going

down the
drain

this summer
was rare

not much rain

the river is
shallow

it is easy
to see to

the bottom

we sit on
the narrow steps

take off
our shoes and

dip our feet in

and let them
play with

the little fishes
swimming

between the rocks
and shells

it was the moon
who taught me

I can’t love myself

I would watch
it shed itself

each night

until it was
so skinny

it would near
invisibility

I could feel
the pieces fall

but I could
never find them

I wanted to be
the one who

saved the moon
from itself

but I never could

I remember

when I first
learned to smell

she walked by
my office

and

smiled in a
friendly way

leaving her trace

a lingering

like fragrant smoke
or a snake

that entered
me olfactorily

I learned later
why she remained

so long

she smelled
of eternity

god has a past

humans have memories
of more than themselves

they carry on legacies
bred into them

angels gather
arranging
themselves
into angles

creating sharp
points

to cut the
skin of humans
and corrupt
their smallest spaces

the humans bleed
and bleed
but no longer
sacrifice

we cry only
when we need

man is in an image

man is to god
as a star
is to man

dead lights
fireflies

skinny
white bird
so sensitive
to sound
I do not
want to
scare you
I want to
be near
you so
I can
tell you
I am you
in my own
form
I cannot fly
to get away
but I can
dream
of living free
like you

you assume me
into existence

in your mind
I am

complete
not a human

a judgment
in your mind

I lose all my
nuance

my right to
be wrong

admit it
and grow

in your mind
I am a statue

an abstraction
a theory

this time
I’m happy

I don’t actually
live in your mind

I know it is progress
in some form
but I did like it better
when we had more space
and we were not always
connected
and even though
our steps were smaller
we could getaway
from each other
I liked my getaways
not too far away
just far enough
when I could disappear
not for too long
just long enough
to miss
and be missed

I am a child
of the fields

not the oceans
or the seas

not the forests
or the leaves

not the desert
or the sun

I am a child
of the weeds

wild flowers
and buzzing bees

high grass and
fast grasshoppers

ladybugs and
lightning bugs

I am a child
of the fields

unkempt
beautiful and
free

I am confused

my words are
a mumble

a mass or a mess

hysteria or
histrionics

today

the good soldiers
of my mind are AWOL

nothing is lining up
my mind is a rave

I am looking for
some thing, any thing

but the meaning that
creates a thing

lives in the shadows

the meaning that
creates a thing

lives in the
space between

and today

I can’t even
define light
and dark

nothing is that clear

today

I am without
that mysterious force

that creates things
and holds things together

that bends the will
for good or for ill

I am confused

today

she knows

in a way that
is not normal

she devours
everything

she is not
gluttonous

most of it
is useless

so as she
processes

she discards them

and only keeps
what she needs

to create
her own

universe
that she

shares with
others in

the most
creative ways

we all stirred a bit
feeling isolated

I took long walks
around the edges

at night

I stared into
the darkness

beneath

it had a deep
voice

it stood still
that night

calling me to
jump into it

told me it was

safe that I
would not sink

that I would
float above it all

I was almost
lonely enough

to do it

there are these people who see.  more than others.  they are blessed.  to know more.  they go.  deeper and wider.  in space and time.  to see.  and they feel.  every moment.   as if it is new.

there are these people who see.  more than others.  they are cursed.  to be alone.  not completely.  just partially.  so some part.  of themselves.  can never be shared.  

not that they won’t share it.  but it can’t be shared.  it can’t be expressed.  by them.  in a way.  that can be.  understood.  by others.

but they try.  they will spend. their lives trying.  to bridge the gap.  in whatever form.  they have.  to express themselves.