The mountain recites me

 There is a top, where all must get off
Some will be lifted, back to the past.
There is stop, life is a dance.
People search for slops, crumbs become dust.

There is top, where most attempt to climb.
Slow braking for some, the end of the ride.
A hard crash for others,
Senses subside.

Lust for the lush, ideal home. 
There is hindering, under the bones.
Instore is a thunder, that readies its roar.
Crater bell we ring, summit utters its demands.
There's an old song coming from the highlands.

There is a climb, take a rise, rub my sin.
Can't rub away my purpose, see it from within.
Standing even taller now, humid fog on knees.
Metamorphic heart immune to your disease
The mountain reads aloud, every word I wrote.
Reverberating verbs, from its stoney throat.

The words travel up, toward a fussing sun.
Reads the next line, with granite chimney lungs
Loosening grass roots, rigid searching hands.
Winter cast it's net, summer killed it's plans.
There is a song, coming from the highlands.
Dust to their apathy, glory to the mountain.

Michael and the queue

 Michael stood out at the convention
He was too tall and waiting in the wrong place
He wasn't going to be attented to
As I walked toward him I smiled and shook his hand

I didn't tell him he was forming a queue where there was no attendance
He would wait there for quite a time still
And this would be his day at the fair
Crowds of loud and quiet people

There was a slice of gossip and excitement for each one
Confusion for some envy for others
Long lines of armchairs where the weary could sit
Waiting for some event to begin

Something that would rouse them from their passive comfort
To get them to mosey on down toward the action, wait in a queue
One that predictably went nowhere as certain people were chosen only
Much of life can be lived like that, they leverage your interest

You live inside someone else's audience

Getting out of the valley

 Exiting the valley through a caged tunnel.
Electrified.
The tropical canopy exposed through bombing.
I tried to find things to deviate the current.

Then lift the chicken wire up so i could make it out.
Somewhere closer to the moutains.
Untouchable and incredible.
But I was stuck attempting not to shock myself.

Trembling at the thought of another electric snap!
So I just gazed upon those mountains.
I just imagined what my freedom might feel like.
I didn't push it, Maybe current would subside,

Maybe I needed to adapt myself to the shock.

Loud mouth

 The loud mouth sat inside the bus stop.
Shouting out loud
Unaware I could understand his voice
The old lady came walking out of the minimart
Crossing the empty road
interacting with the loud mouth
Like mother and son

The pale crusty faced loudmouth blabbered as I passed by
Screaming his inside joke to the elderly woman crossing
She apporached him with her groceries and new stories
Scolding and my presence and affirming his derision of me
Maybe if I had their eyes I would see myself as a zombie
One they zombared and mocked for fun afternoon distraction
They were pale ghouls to me obstacles to avoid in the growing shade of four pm.

The park was her redemption

 She was out walking her dog
age was a cousin
the weather was her sister
That why she was out
The leash on her dog was shame
The park was redeemption
An attempt at life

She took each step like walking on brimstone
The dog turned and looked up at her
Considering her mood
But her eyes were on the other side of the road

Lost in the desperation of imposssible dreams
The pavement was a long tongue
Tasting her and her dog
Telling them to walk slower
Drying in the sun an awkward eel
Then finally going mute
She drops the leash and trash and walks home

 

If you knew me

 If I shake out these sheets
Wash them for drying in tomorrow's sun
Will you forgive me
Will you love me but not need me

If I sweep the floor 
and get every speck
Will you notice
And then let emptiness come on

The one I've known without you
The one who spoke to me when the world was unknown to me
I didn't prefer that world at all
I'd prefer to be loved

Out of anyone's repertoire
Unseen in their eyes
So living is subtle sleep
only waking for the bothersome, the curious

If I paint these walls
Polish these windows
Will you see me clearly
What I really am

Or will I linger the way you imagined
Not really the man I truly exist as
Just a collage of what you picked out
And stuck on me inside your mind

Teeth and fairgrounds

 The teeth fit somewhere in my mouth
where do they fit?
My mouth doesn't have space
I feel each person's attempt

To build their stall
To sell their goods
fitting the roof
Putting slats in for the walls

But these teeth don't fit
So how am i supposed to eat?
Life is fairgrounds and novelty 
People walk through hardened sand

Looking behind them 
To see if their footprints stuck
I can't get these teeth to stick
What am I about to lose?