If I was the garden itself

 I'd keep rearranging myself, well can you blame me?

Morning in a different order, birds will dance

Banana leaves busy making a religion from the wind
Universe kept leaving its clothes for me to pick up

I watered the same plants
with a different mind acting up behind my eyes

I thought about this from a new mind that took over from the old one

A person refusing to be ordinary and a small green insect
eating its way through a lettuce patch

 I pulled a weed and found a deeper root beneath 

This is the world getting through your experience

Evening I had become reasonable, which was disappointing

The plants had grown so well, fertility showing in all it's little signs

I was looking for evidence so the I could plant more

But the garden never needed proof

The overbearing noise of a world so partial

 It slips down in the water
Dragging light out of everything 

Saps your energy
Sucks the marrow from your bones and leaves you crawling 

makes one think life has no point
Makes existence look like a rigged game

It was too drunken to sustain
A filthy bargain to sell tomorrow and survive tonight

To kill thirst
To choke the screaming from my own throat

It makes one thirstier than ever
Leaves you parched in a desert of your own design, licking sand

More stupid and sentimental
Blubbering disorientation and broken compasses, mistaking every oasis

So lost, the world is a dizzy place
Horizon snaps sanity slithers, the ground turns traitor, every direction predatory

Do these words give any more grip
Just clawing at the air, strangle meaning empty adjective?

On this place I'm slipping away from
Crumbling reality comes apart as the horizon did

Who I want to be
Fighting to become that flicker of good inside me 

What I want to pursue
The thing I hunger, as darkness tries to sell me off cheap

They are crushing questions
Grinding my senses a million easy answers 

I wish they could go back to being empty
Silence and hollow space 

But feeling is a quality
The insensitive are cursed

Dimmy the landlord

 My name is Dimmy Ribbons. I'm a mixed breed dog living inside the property of the landfill.

I sit here under a broken piece of garage roof. It’s currently raining. I have my chin on my paw. I’m looking up at the faintest sign of the sun behind the nonstop oncoming cloud.
Suddenly my head goes up, because I heard thunder coming from the distance.
I am in panic, but I decided to keep a level head.
I moved further back under the aluminium roof. Curled up inside some bubble wrap.
I thought to myself the rain will soon be gone and I’ll be able to wander around and maybe hunt a rat.
I saw a blind dwarf, who had been dropped off by one of those state institutions.
I stared and stared at him. He sat shivering in the rain. He sat on an upside down plastic bucket.
It made that cracking sound like it was going to come apart.
But it held together.

I kept an eye on the blind dwarf. His thick forearms looked like two stubby table legs.
What had he done to end up here?
What had I done, had my owner not seen the the light in my eyes? Had I broken too much furniture?

I slid it out of my head.
I thought, I am Dimmy Ribbons! Yes, just a dog!
Not at all! I am a great animal. Am I?

Despite the rain I sprinted out and grabbed the blind dwarf’s thick rolled up jeans from around his ankles. I barked and he reached down and patted me. I guided him through to the highest space between the aluminium and the ground.
Once in he realized it was like a shelter.

The blind dwarf hobbled around until he found a plastic panel to lie down on.
He sighed and started sleeping.
How am I, Dimmy Ribbons the dog, supposed to find enough food for the two of us.
Maybe I could kill a cat.

It started raining harder, I sat down dug into my coat with my naturally sharp teeth, snapping off a tick and taking a few fleas off.
If only I could be a tick sitting on a mountain of flesh. Sapping the blood to keep me sustained and happy everyday. My home would be my meal. What a concept.

The blind dwarf rolled around on the plastic panel to get comfortable, the dropping water was inches away from his face, as if he had put his head closest to the downpour so he could make sense of his surroundings through the sound of the raindrops.

The clouds darkened and the day faded into dusk. I closed my eyes inside my bubble wrap nest, waking myself up with the first snore rattles. Then hurrying back to the important business of sleep.
Deep sleep with dreams that allowed me to see the faces of the kids and parents at the house I used to live at.
Was I a terrible mongrel?
I knew I had a lot of energy. Now I was a host for blind dwarf under a broken aluminium roof at a landfill.

Tenessee death row fudge and omen

"Christa are you with us?"
 
where am I?
Who are you?
Can you please unstrap my wrists
What did you do?

Why are my arms hurting?
I'm looking at you cop
if you wanted to kill me
should have gotten it done

You administered twice and failed
What's wrong diluted the dose to save state money
And now your stuck with me
A murderer a torturer

A women enraged who will remind you of your error
every single day
I dont' know if it was the Devil 
Epstein's ghost or what put me back on the map

But my arms are killing me
I'm going to need more of those drugs
My lawyer is going to be in touch




(RIP Colleen Slemmer)

She likes the cinema

 She dreamed about the cinema
Planned on going there
Among other priorities
to walk the curves of the city

Make yourself pretty for the public eye
Enter the grand atriums where all onlookers wait
And the chambers with those big screens
Where your mind can be almost entirely absorbed

She didn't just dream about going to the cinema
She walked in her high heels there boldy
moderately excited
The street like an unfinished plate of food

The odd morsel almost worth a sniff
But mostly things left over
Waiting for the inevitable "biff"
Then gone from the commerce

Yeah excited she walks
More certain of her get up
Proud of her brisk "stop me not" pace
When she arrived there, there would be no lines

She would find her special place among the seats
Take in the images sounds and intended vibes

Forgetting your problems

 Joint moistened soaken smoke drawing through
Browning the paper
Clouding the mind
Ember all uneven fighting to stay lit

Thc pouring through
Into the lungs
The young man dizzy stoned
Park bench a little less even now

Sitting at an odd angle
the taste of smoke
The throat becoming super dry
A salty effect on every mucosal bridge to external reality

Haze intensifies, thoughts swirl into dreams
That seem too good to be true
then backward into spiny nightmares
The body shudders and the throat dries even more

His future plans get jumbled
Little aspects of them fall away
He is left with the essence
But can't remember any deeper sense of the why

He loiters as families take their children to the local nursery
He walks in circles lost in strange thoughts
That promise a road ahead but slowly fade into nowhere
He retreats to the bench and grabs his bag

Starts walking back to his small apartment
His occupation and his beliefs to trick him into thinking
He is on his way forward
His life was more of a moonwalk 

Playing the universe

 It isn't about winning or losing.
It's about veering off the road where there was no driveway.
It's about morphing into something even you can't understand.

It's about cradling a vision, a parallel world where things are different.
That is where you play with the universe.
Because you never see it clearly, and by proxy you confuse yourself,
becoming a little inside out.

But I can do that.
Others think it's just words, but I've told you before that words are spells, strange magic.
I can play games with the universe,
or play them on myself, knowing I'll eventually get confused,
laying the metaphorical acid beneath my tongue,
spinning out of control before resurfacing into the normal grey repetitions.