the drum holds
everything in place

the room
is dark

at least the
room in my

head

you don’t ask
them to enter

they don’t care

they force their
way in

and take up
residence

for as long as
they choose

and when they
finally leave

they leave
something

behind

the drum holding
everything

in place

your voice so rare

the depths of which
are still unmatched

your words spark
longing in me

a longing for life

an eternal flame
that warms my soul

I will never cease
listening to you

to feel all of me
in your simple words

rest now soulful man

she is

a scratch in
the back of
my throat

I cannot
cough her
away

she is not

contagious
it seems

only I am
infected

we are young
in a small place

sitting on a bank
you are looking

at me I am
staring far away

I ask you if
the tree floats

I say

I want to
leave this

place and

I want to
leave

by water

you say
something

about roots
and how far

into the earth

they go I
don’t understand

I jump in and
disappear

you stay on
the bank

and wave

silly is the
perfect word

it lightens my mind
and makes me

feel free to feel
another way

I can let go
of the weights

that hold me down

and for a moment
I can float

her form was
shapeless

like a dancer

she moved in
spiritual ways

her soul lived
on the surface

she was a child
of a god

she could be hurt
but not damaged

she spoke pure
like water from

a cold stream

her eyes radiated
creating energy

I lost myself in
the color pale blue

and when
she disappeared

I could not
find myself

last night

she met the
place where

dreams stop
she woke up

crying
without tears

screaming in
the desert

the emptiness
an endless

echo asking

we cover
not to hide

we have
an enemy

sort of
at least a
common threat

to our lives

it is not
conscious
or willful

it exists
to exist

it is more
an entity

than a thing
it doesn’t

know itself
or what it does

and what it does
is spread
within us and

then across us
and within us

one way to
stop it is

to wear a mask

yes it’s that
simple

wear a mask

I did not laugh today

my mouth was the
shortest distance

between two points

I was not unhappy
I just wasn’t happy

you said words
and laughed

but I did not think
they were funny

they were just words
you linked together

and I couldn’t understand
why you laughed

this happens
more often
then I care to admit

I do not hate you
I just don’t love you

I was not home
when you called

used to be enough
it gave us space

we could be apart
and survive on our

own
now

everyone has to
be connected

all the time
I feel wired
         weird

like

I’m part of
a machine

I’m always
close enough

to everyone so
they can touch me

but sometimes
I don’t want to

be reached

we speak
but we do

not speak to
each other

we are dogs
looking for

our own
old raggedy

bones to
chew on

I am not alone
the past is

always with me
and memory is

never pure
or static

so I always
make new friends

or learn something
new about

old friends

haven’t been
to church

in a long while
not much I miss

but one thing is
the hymns

sung by the
truly truly faithful

not much of
them but

when you hear them
when you see them

sing

it is truly spiritual

I have collected
all the pieces

sewed them
back together

I can almost
tell what it was

it beats
sends blood

to most places
but it doesn’t

feel the same
something is

missing

something that
was bigger than

its parts

I am in a room.  the door is closed.  then disappears.  the windows are boarded.  shut.  then disappear.  the walls start moving.  closing in.  then disappear.  people appear as a mass.  their lips are moving.  but they say nothing.  I am searching for a face.  that feels familiar.  I disappear.

I am in another room.  it is a cathedral.  my imaginary man appears.  hovering above me.  covered in a golden robe.  he speaks to me.  his voice is thunder.  his words are ancient.  he is my master.  he is my god.  I disappear.

I am back. in that other room.  the people reappear.  they become trees.  trees made of paper.  one piece of paper.  a forest of paper trees.  my arms are elastic.  I extend them.  around the world.  I cut them up.  the trees.  make them individuals.  free to leave the forest.

there are babies in the corners.  they have new brains.  filled with billions of creatures.  bumping into each other.  they are strangers.   hoping to make connections.  hoping to become familiar.  hoping to create a new voice.  hoping to create a new language.

I introduce myself to them.  but I don’t think they understand.  to them.  I am moving lips.  saying nothing.

you were once
a goddess and

now

they claim you
telling other humans

they own you
they are in control

of you

as if you could
ever be owned

or controlled

did not earth
teach us

anything about
ownership

and control

I say the word
that was taken

for granted for
so long

and now there

are so many
questions

being asked
about these

categories

and sometimes
I don’t know

what to say
I have to stop

and think

sometimes that
is good and

sometimes that
is bad only

time will tell

they call it news
but it isn’t

no matter where
you turn

left or right
you hear talking heads

bouncing opinions
off each other

absorbing nothing
from each other

there is nothing new
in what they say

so many words
working so hard

to mean so little

it happens
and sometime

later we notice
we left

where we were
and it feels like

we can’t stop
and even if

we did

we are so
far away

we could
never climb

out and get
back to

anywhere near
where we were

we start to
remember

the voices
warning us

the voices
we couldn’t

hear when we
started to fall

when we didn’t
know were

falling

she was small

a soap bubble
created by breath

floating away
by herself

so full of life and
not afraid to burst

he lived in the
deep place

where darkness
edged out light

by a little
but he thought

it was a lot

there was pain
in his soft voice

the pain of too
many ******

the loss of
blood grew

slowly so his
impending death

was not obvious
to most

as his words
hid their meaning

from most

went for
a walk

in these
dangerous
times

intending
on stopping

at Rite-Aid

hoping to find
some things

I need

and there
it was

one lonely eight
pack of

toilet paper

just waiting
for me

I picked it
up smiling

walking to
the register

feeling in
my empty

pockets

shiiiiit

went home
came back

it was gone

I guess

I have to drive
around tomorrow

looking for my
lost treasure

she is a young
soul on fire

her mouth emits
a smoky voice

with penetrating
words and spaces

that burrow deep

her face is a
land of freckles

remnants of the sun

made a list
and kicked it
twice

steel
toes
crushing
dreams

futures are bent

like
the
universe

we were not meant

to
live
this
long

civilizations spent

all
their
savings

on crap like rent

sharp pains love
like knives

and broken
is the stain

we leave
behind

I cannot
speak words

there is no
separation

in the sounds
I feel

whimpers and
moans and
screams and

silence is

all I have
left to say

It is killing me

I cannot touch
anything

I like to walk
the streets

and feel

rub my hands across a
coarse brick wall

scratch my skin raw

trace my fingers over
the smooth words

of a street sign

grasp a thin handrail
and lean back

almost losing my balance

wipe the drips off
anything after a hard rain

it is killing me
this staying clean

a child does
not arrive

into an empty
world

lives were lived
with loves and

losses

endings have
been written

but not acted out

pretty flowers
have decayed

but not discarded

we carry the
weight of generations

of mistakes
in our souls

every child is
an output of

a common process

but not every child
is planned or wanted

given that we still
have to live

a life and find
a way to make

it work for us
and the next

entering a world

with words
without meaning

the poet is
without words

feelings becoming
a soul disease

a virus

for him or her
or whatever form

this creature takes

the poet knows
there is no point

to live in this world
poets do not write

words they dance
with meanings

and in a world
without meaning

the choose to
speak through

their silence

we walk at night.  street lights.  and knuckle fights.  blood splatters.  and nothing matters.  we keep our distance.  from the educated.  from the edified.  we are calcified.  parts.  of other civilizations.  the leftovers.  the artifacts.  addicts of the past.  not memories.  you want to forget us.  you want us to forget.  we are bugs.  that itch.  you don’t scratch.  for fear.  of what it is.  of what it says.  about you.

we disappear.  and you think.  we are gone.  but you know.  better.  so enjoy these.  few moments.  of calm.  

the night is long.

I am not
invisible but

I do not take
up much space

or sound

I like to leave
room for you

whoever you are

feelings can be
subtle if

you let them
they have a

lifespan like
a dandelion

flower to dust
then disappear

only appears when

searching for
satisfaction

touching everything
it meets

saying life

is luscious
spilling over

it is too much
it needs more time

to explore

angel crush
into dust

a fallen dream
evaporates

like smoke

the sky wants
to cry but

there are
no more tears

we are all
unborn fruit

dried vines
with nothing

left to give

life is an experiment

and meant to be
lived by learning

we cannot
change if

we do not
learn

if you
contradict
yourself

you must
tell me

that you
were wrong

that you made
a mistake

and that
you learned

otherwise I
will call you

a liar

if you cannot
accept responsibility

for your mistakes
(which we all make)

I will not give you
credit for your

successes

no one
(not even you)

can have your cake
and eat it too

not knowing
its place

who asks why
he scolds her

saying you
should not be

concerned with
reason

you are too
pretty for that

in philosophy and
religion

pleasing
the gods

or

pleasuring
myself

every coin
has two sides

I toss one and
call it in the air

I watch it
flip and turn

waiting for
it to land

changing the
meaning of

each side to

suit my needs
I am only human

I hope you
are too

I am made of glass
spreading my light.

over you.

helping you see.
what matters.

she plays
with so

many things
a skinny

beautiful
creature

with a first
class

mind and
imagination

a puppet
master

creating
sights and

sounds
we follow

to our death
if we have to

but I don’t think
that is where

she leads us

jump
jump
jump

they scream

jump

I am on
the edge

with weak
knees

and no
words
on my
tongue

I cannot
feel my
skin

the heat
is melting
me

and I
want
to faint

and fall

so it
will
appear

that I
jumped

maybe I
will hit
my head

on the way
down

and bleed
out

and sink

so I don’t
have to

lose face

a white
space

a void
a pause

a canvas
of purity

everything
appears

purposely
clean

a woman
is placed

into the
center

naked
exposed

curls herself
into a ball

trying

to hold
everything

together

the vulnerability
of her world

of the world

she is
a model

of something
human

an expression

of an emotion
we all feel

she is brave

humans are not machines

humans are not angels

humans are not gods

humans are not demons

humans are not monsters

humans are not whole

humans are broken

look at me

look in your mirror

what do you see

the wait for
an opening

seems like
we died

and this is
eternity

the city cries
it is so lonely

it could handle
the weight of

hustle and bustle

but it is feeling
crushed by all

this wait

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

I use my sharpest
teeth to tear

through your words

the raw ****** parts
I want to get to

the seed

the only part
that grows

I want to swallow
the meanings

sort them out

let them spread
through my blood

so I can absorb them

I know you
understand more

than you can
ever say

and this is the
only way I know

to know you

the silky stranger
sits next to me

with skin like chalk
eyes like ice

her rose lips open
slightly

I hear a whisper
something sweet

and sinister
then a click

I feel a warmth
then a chill

I lie down
to rest

someone closes
my eyes

that one reason
humanity survived
so long is that
through being
close to each
other needing
each other
it was able to
work together
and build
civilizations
of millions

and now
it has met a
rival that
forces it to equate
“working together”
with staying away
from each other

what does that mean
for the future?

breathe in…today

fill your lungs with
the quiet violence

of modern life

feel it tear apart your
twice baked soul

with its silver-forked tongue

let it wipe away
your lonely tears

with 60 grit sandpaper

feel today course through
your open veins

exploding the past
into particles of dust

becoming a myth

I have lost direction
there is no point

to today

only 26
(and usually less)

that’s all it
takes to make
all these words

to make all
these words

that help me
make all this

meaning from
all this feeling

of the things
I love in this world

the alphabet

is right at
the top

it has helped me
more than

most people

the door was locked
the sounds behind the door

were loud

voices of people in the room
and on the records

wicked words mingling with the

sweet fragrant smoke escaping
like a genie from

a magic lamp

my pre-teen mind
listening at the door

for my name or
any other reason to enter

letters are limited

but words and meaning
are limitless

and truth is timeless
and difficult to reach

in Greenwood, Indiana
mid-winter

wind blowing
across the
flatlands

a car wash
across from
a giant mall

lines of cars
waiting

me with
white towels
in my hands

trying to dry

off the cars before
the towels freeze to
my hands

and remove skin

for sixty hours
a week

for $3.35
an hour

and maybe a tip
(not usually)