Music can seem
so much like salvation

Sgt. Pepper was a revelation to me
I knew all the words like,
It’s getting better all the time

and at 15, I wanted to believe it
but I was an angry young man

man was I mean

I mean I was scared
but I couldn’t admit it

didn’t fit in
still don’t

but it really doesn’t matter

if I’m wrong I’m right
if I belong I’m right
if I belong

I wanted to leave home
after living alone
for so many years

but I was only 15
and man was I scared

we never
asked for

each other
we each

prayed for
another type

this was
never meant

to be (in
some grand
scheme)

but it wouldn’t stop

no one
can resist

the pull of
the opposite

pole of a magnet

wants to be bigger

a sprawling decadence
growing

an underground
stream of liquid

a meandering
sweet poison

a circus
with freaks

pressing forward
creating a vein

dripping
melted sugar

candy
like
yams

swelling
the tongue

expanding taste
so it presses

against both sight
and sound

and suddenly the
three senses
become one

and I know things
I wasn’t supposed to

Death was before me, lying still
the way he would sleep in his old
wooden rocker

I put my hand on his hand
the way I would when he was asleep
in his old wooden rocker

but this time it was cold

like last winter
when the heater broke

my brother stole
the blankets and
wouldn’t give them back

I couldn’t stop shivering

Less a friend
than an addiction
big shoulders
pushing boulders
up thick grass
gaining mass
losing breath
with each step
a passion for pain
a predilection
for black
scratch my back
I'll stab yours
end my days
in a haze
I know the ways
to get lost
fingers crossed
on my knees
heaving lunch
or was it brunch
no matter
we're all a splatter
in the end
less a friend
than an affliction

There are things that I see
that are bigger than me,
blades that resist being clipped
and stroke
the stalks of
sunflower
bursts.

Cattails that appear
as if antennae
for something buried
deeper than death.

There are things I don’t see

but can hear whisper,
as I hear a clock
winding down,
before time stops.

The wonder of it all
does not escape me.

I see you pray.  
your legs are bent.
your head is bowed.  
your eyes are closed.  
your hands are clasped.
your words are invisible.  
your faith is real.

I dream of a desert
the cold nights

when life hides
and death is

exposed as needy
pleading for

satisfaction

the history of
christianity

is buried in a desert

the memory of
the night death

was found wanting

she cupped
his tears

in her hand
as they fell

let the puddle
separate into

individual
droplets

and watched
a pattern form

she traced it
as if it was

his lifeline
not knowing

that was what
he called her

They woke me when I was still
dreaming.  

I have about three months of sanity left in me; I don’t think it will be enough to carry me to the end.

I can feel myself fading in and out.  Images (more like flashes of images) I can’t explain appear then disappear just as quickly.  They seem to be set to a timer.

The slightest, most sudden, sounds become as a cross-fire inside my shell; like bullets pinging off of my plastic helmet.  

The front lines were never meant for men like me.  They say I am weak and fragile; a feeble man.  I am yelled at frequently.  

They do not understand, I can not allow things that enter me to just pass through me.  I hold them tightly; it is more like I am inside of them than they are inside of me.

They were born armadillos; protected by their inner armor.

I was born a jelly fish; found far from the water of my birth.

I look up at the star-like creatures fading in and out of the dark matter and I realize there is no logical defense against the senseless.

I walk alone
to feel

the city is heavy
tonight

I am shaky or
the ground is
speaking

in a muffled tone

the sky sneaks
between tall buildings

carrying weight
changing colors

blue to gray
like the eyes

of a boy I knew

and I whisper
to no one
in particular

tonight

I will shed
everything

I will walk naked
under the crying sky

tonight

I will drown in
nature’s tears

tonight

I will
make peace
with the earth

before we die

tonight

I’m just trying
to see if it fits

the experience
the experiment
the expression

each day
trying to paint
with simple
words

there are only
a few colors

but infinite
combinations

to create

an experience
an experiment
an expression

an explanation
for what I do

We hold our arms out
as if we are
airplanes
and fly around
the yard.

Bumping into each other,
we understand
the excitement
of mid-air collisions;
the sudden explosion
and the heat
of new flames.

Then rolling around
we quickly
become alligators
our arms become
mouths
fighting over
a piece of fresh meat.

Then we turn into
professional
wrestlers
and I lift you
in my arms
and act as if
I am
going to body
slam your
body
slam your
body
to the ground.

The grass is freshly-cut,
loose blades
gather together
waiting to be raked,
we make it rain
green
and huddle
together,
my hands
become
your umbrella.

It smells like
summer;
it smells like
strawberries,

***** blond
strawberries

and my hands
become
your brush

and your arms
become
my belt.

remember those
two times I smiled

once in the morning
when we found

that sunflower
filled with seeds

once late at night
when we found

that wild field
filled with fireflies

mostly I feel
too many things

to feel anything

sometimes I feel
a lot of one thing

then I smile

the cut of loneliness
does not bleed

no matter how
many cuts

everything inside
is dry
and dead or dying

I am not the first
to feel

this way but
for your sake

I hope I am
the last

truth is slippery
not slimy

but some words are
not real

they are birthed
in the swamp

by soul *******
creatures

who make you
believe

who make belief

like they are making
a midnight snack

taking a bite
and throwing away

the leftovers

she’s an interesting cat.  her mind moves.  fast.  
not without direction.  but she is hard to follow.
she knows more.  then me.
she knows all.  the hiding places.
and waits for me.  to enter
so she can pounce.
I know it is coming.  but I enter.
anyway.  exposing myself.

she devours me.
as nature.  take its course.

On the road again.  Escaping my captor…life.  I am looking for space.  Always looking for space.  I just want to pause.  I just want to wait.  My soul is a child.  

I am reaching for something.  Something out there.  Something just a little too far from me.  
Something guarded by danger.  Danger I am too sacred to face.  My soul is a child.

I almost fall.  I am almost swept away.  By a thick, morning fog.  I am almost lost in an adventure.  I could have never planned.  I almost give in…to my captor.

But truth is truth.  And I am not lost.  And I am not found.  And I am surrounded by nothing.  Silence is my only lover. And my lover is a parasite.  And my lover is a tapeworm.

And I am the tear that wells but never falls.

I have a wing not an arm. It is only one wing so I cannot fly. Sometime during the development of seed to man a message was misconstrued. It is quite easy to imagine, a gene gets distracted by a sudden movement, she says yes when she meant no. I have done it many times myself.

I live each day of my life with the same choice my parents struggled with for so many years. Is it better to remove it and be a man with one arm or leave what nature has seen to be fit? Maybe I am the next evolution. Did you ever think of that? I did.

It’s not that bad, really. I just have to remember to use my arm when I wave; otherwise I create quite a stir.

I sit and stare at the birds perched gently on the wires outside my bedroom window. I can only wonder if I am a mistaken man or a mistaken bird, because I do so long to fly.

I

truth is not a wall

it is not a permanent
structure

it does not permanently block you out
it does not permanently block me in

it is freedom

and like words
it is ambiguous

it learns
and changes
and evolves
over time

as we learn
and change
and evolve
over time

the world is
not a cake
but it is layered

it needs to be broken
down into more elemental
pieces to be understood

and then built back up
into a new form
to make sense

and it needs people
who are capable
of understanding
to make sense of it

II

the man has many words
but not a lot of thoughts

and not much meaning
he doesn’t mean much

he is not layered
he is very small
in depth

the layered world
is too big for him

he cannot make sense
of all these layers

he does not understand
what is happening

he cannot process
all this information

but he is too scared
to admit it

so he avoids it
or worse he fights it

he destroys everything
above him

and most things
are above him

he has to try to
shrink the world

so that it makes
sense to him

III

many people
understand this
about him

they use words
like *****
or child
to describe him

and whatever word
they use

what they
are really saying is
that he is small and simple
minded

that he is not capable
of understanding this layered world
which he is supposed to lead

and it is these people

who know firsthand
of his smallness
and say next to nothing
and do next to nothing

and even worse
support him

try to explain him
to others

to explain to others
what he means

to explain to others
how he makes sense

these are the people
who should feel shame

IV

we all are who we are
we all do what we do

just as he

it is up to others to check us
to balance us

that is why our founding fathers
gave us a system

three separate but equal parts

it is up to us to use them
the way they were intended

it is up to use
to understand that parties
or whatever we call them

are beneath our systems

it is our systems
that are supposed to live long
after we die

just as they lived long
after the founders died

V

that is our legacy as Americans

that is why America is great
that is when America is great

to be clever
to make god laugh

and tell me I
never thought

of that

but making
you laugh

is enough
for now

I am.  trying to decipher.  the source of everything.  around me.  but.

all I could think.  is.  I could not think.  all these pieces.  nothing fit.  every shape.  was misshapen.  or warped.  how could I come.  to know.  anything.  

so I hibernate.  my brain.  let it rest.  no input.  no output.  let everything.  settle.  into place.  

I hope.  this works.

when I was young

I had

those little things
inside me

a billion
magical sprites
dancing

igniting sparks off
each other

creating other
magical

creatures

connecting to
each other

creating one
big magical
creature

and I thought
if I thought

hard enough

I would explode
and become

a star

I pricked my skull
and dug around

a little

to find the
source

hoping to create
a tiny hole

create a leak
where only the

best parts of me
would drip

a tiny hole
from which

I could escape
and leave behind

all the crap I
let build up

before I knew me

Monday Morning:

The bed is light
I hear your
whisper before I wake.

Can I listen
for a moment
before you disappear?

I draw your outline
on the sheets
in black marker.

I light candles
and hold them tightly;
they burn the
tips of my fingers
black…

I want to call you
and ask you to
wrap your lovely thighs
around this lonely world,

but pushing buttons
is too painful.

we bit the apple
it was juicy

we let it drip
all over us

licking up
every drop

on that day

everything
came alive

in us and
around us

on that day

everything alive
could die

that day

was the
first day

we wanted
to live

I do not know why

…

I live in space
and ask questions
of the sky

there is so much
distance in me

so many layers

so many unexplored
caves in these depths

I am a dark star
*******

in

my soul is twisted
my body is sore

I am a broken angel
all fight no flight

and I hear about him

the one
above me

lighting up
the night
as if a sun

his soul is smooth
and as he speaks

the birds listen

trying to learn how
to make
that beautiful sound

but I cannot hear him
and even if I could

I do not think I
would understand
his words

even if he sings them

what if
everything

was less

it was not
a race

to have more

what if
this god

said

accumulation
was a sin

and most
everyone

believed it

what would
become of

everyone

would we
have more

together

I asked the mountain to dance with me
let the wind guide our movements
perhaps the birds will sing for us
so we can feel the music
come alive inside each other
you are ancient and wise
have seen it all from
your great heights
I am a new life
small yes and have seen nothing
but I have this unbounded energy
perhaps you can teach me balance
and I can teach you imbalance
as we learn to move together
to create a better world

I countdown time with

the astronauts,

in seconds

not in years.

We’ve visited

eternity

and returned

with stories

of foreign creatures

and unseen colors

and blackest

nights.

I haVen’t given you

much thought lately.

You’ve been more than

a day away from

my veins.

We’re attached to our machines,

the astronauts and I.

They won’t let us

float in space

anymore.

she wakes to
the desperate fool

sleeping soundly
rubbing his crystals

he is holding on
to his imagination

she has been down

so many holes
she knows

everything is fake
in this land

what is left to wonder
everyone is a

creature with secrets
to tell

we met each other

in an age
of distance

our hearts leaped

and our limbs were
made of dreams

thin but strong
we did not resist

the wind or
the times

we extended
ourselves

as far as we
were allowed

and shadow
danced

our first dance
waiting for the

wind or the times
to change

the leaves are
disappearing

intersecting
naked branches

some thick
some thin

extend in
every direction

why do we
prepare for

winter by
removing

our coverings
and exposing

our skeletons
to everyone

are we not
as vulnerable

as you

don’t look at me
that way

I feel naked
in your presence

I am not in control
I cannot remain silent

your questions
have exposed me

you have loosed
my tongue

with your cleverness
with your insight

seeing inside me

you must be from
another world

you possess a
super power

I have never felt

her angelic
demon eyes

see into the
darkness

anything that
moves is hers

with her claws
she scratches

her tag
leaving her

marks in the
deepest parts

of me

she is the true
soul of a cat

she dares me
to domesticate her

as she purrs
in my ear

shadows are
happy when

we dance
they are

no longer
foreboding

specters of
what follows us

but dreams of
what we can be

when we let
ourselves dance

it lives in my first brain

the impulse
the reaction

the world is small
and simple here

there is no plan
and mistakes
frequently happen

before I even
know what happened

my second brain is
unable to intervene

it is capable
it can do so much more

but it rarely does anything

it remains still and silent
either scared or unaware

it is the way you
…
…
…

makes me

I whisper to you
my beautiful and
desperate words

born of life’s tiny scars

I whisper to you
my beautiful and
desperate words

wanting to cover you
in the finest silk

I whisper to you
my beautiful and
desperate words

wanting you to feel loved

I am my beautiful
and desperate words

longing to be held
longing to be remembered

by you

nosing into
everything

eyes wide

searching
behind every
crack and
crevice

finding the
dirt

hidden
for years

whiskers
twitch

antennae
hearing
starlight

messages
from the past

and I realize

there is not
enough
deep in me
to bury

everything

faith screams

aching for
something
anything
absolute

bodies are
instruments
of worship

primitive
sounds pushing
into each
other

wanting not
to destroy
but to dominate
subjugate
each other

pain bleeds
pleasure
like a pig

a sacrifice

and I realize

everything is
made of word

and word burns

and I realize
when I
finally
stop feeling

I won’t
need word

to express
what I felt

but until then

I need to form
these disguises

and wear them
out

she is in pain
the quiet kind

there are no
cuts or scars

there are no
lumps or bruises

there are no
screams or tears

nothing is broken
nothing ever heals

I cut the strings

and slumped
in my seat

I had no strength
of my own

I didn’t even
know what

my own meant

but I was determined
to find out

with great effort
and many days

I lifted my head
opened my eyes

and saw what was
right in front of me

it was a start

I think these are
the most important
words for this world

at the center of
every soul is

this seed
the need

to forgive
and be forgiven

please open it
and let it grow

let it spread
let it be a virus
let it be a ****

anything that spreads
easily into others

and across the world

if you take
all that I feel

tonight

and wrap it into
a ball of blue yarn

you could crochet
your own ocean

and drown in me

I speak to
the mysterious force

the wind

lift me
carry me

take me with you

I know you are
strong enough

to hold me
to keep me

from falling apart

you may be
the only one

there is no
light in the sky

this dark has
no name

she is not
presence

she is absence
somehow she

knows me

with black cat
eyes she calls me

by my name

I am obedient
to her every sin

scared of my
own potential

I could only
really live

when inside
her skin

I carry him inside of me
the little one lost

he is small
but heavy

like a dark star
like a black hole

broken at birth
born into a broken egg
he has so many deep scars

the kind that never really heal
so even after all these years
they are still tender
to the touch

he never really learned
how to feel

or more accurately

he never really learned
how to make sense
of his feelings

I want to speak his words
express his feelings

he held them in
for so long

he tried to fit in
…sort of

but he was cursed from
the beginning

he was somehow
smart

smart in a way
that made him
see more
hear more
feel more

so much that it
made him cry

so much that
he had to hide

so he didn’t cry
so much

even when he was small
he was larger
than the others

he was larger
in ways that made
him heavy

and no one could
explain him

they didn’t know
the theory that could
explain him

make him feel better
make him make sense
of himself

but I have learned
a theory to explain him

a theory of levels
a theory of sight
a theory of time

but now he is so far away

buried under layers of time
buried under layers of scars

I don’t think he can hear me

if he could maybe
he would lighten my load

Faith decays faster than it grows.

You weren’t with me at night when
I went to sleep
so how could I know you
would be with me when I awoke.

I never told you about my recurring dreams.

The one where I’m
standing on the stairs
as they turn to sand
and swallow me.

The one where I’m
drowning in a drinking fountain

reaching out for you
as you turn from me.

I never told you I was afraid
to leave my room.

I didn’t think you would remember
anyway.

If I could never trust my father
how I could I ever believe in God.

I was not there
when you were dying

I was there when you died
I missed so much

I said so little
I am so lost

I see in me

what you said
is in me

I am his
I am he

the one
who painted

the hatred in
your heart

I cannot help it

I cannot drain
him from me

sometimes blood
is poison

that does not ****

and

sometimes cells
are cells

it hurts

the pressure
of conforming
my body

trying not to
be revealing

arms cross
my chest
hiding my
heart

fingers
fight
furiously

trying to plug
the leaks

of honesty
seeping

but I can’t
keep up with

the flowing
through
my mind

my thoughts
leaping ahead

over all the same
old constraints

to what
could be