Feldspar constant

 It lies infront of the car dealership
oddly shaped
Gray speckled white
Kicked a few dozen times

Sometimes landing closer to the gutter
Sometimes closer to the road

It's hardness always
It's immutable state
How it takes up space inside a hand
And here near the park how it stands out of place

above a smooth surface
waiting for a car tyre
or a shoe connected to a foot
Or maybe even a deluge

It will slowly move a block down
exist in the form it is

Unlike us of flesh
remaining exactly as it is
Unchanging
Stone

Season of the creeper

 Out there left for dead I was the scarecrow
In your mind the tailor sewing dream
Out there in the field packed with hay
Won't you say hello

Through the pines
Winter caused the world to be abandoned
Foraging wendigo
Bones cracking in the frost

loud as whip cracks
Icicle falls sharp end into earth
a small statue
destined to melt away

Further into the wildernerness
Where absurdity exists
I am the mirror hanging on the stairwell
exposed to the elements

Dying breaths
Exhaustion
Hunger unrecognizable
Dogged searching

Those who are lost
Come face to face
deplorable and ominous
Calling you deeper

Career action plan

 They move in lines
See how they die
The battle field once dry
Now wet and plight

The fires roll and rise
Escape flames caught me trying
Ill exit burning bombs flying
Scolding skies

Tanks ramble and drones motor high
Ballistic missiles glide
City blocks dive
They move forward in lines

The land where stale mate is applied
Noman's potmarked land is frying
Craters where corpses still lie
Friendly rifle, friendly fire

Lodge a complaint
Conglomerate human resources department

Shade and the golden ones

Prudish and pompous
Who could embody 
Not all of the grandchildren
Only those that fit in 

Their bathroom in perpetual shade
Near pictures of the family
My face not here
The dark side of the house

Cool all year round
Overgrown bamboo
Shuts out the others
Chosen neglect

what gets left in the shade
Get's overlooked
Ignored at the dinner table
Anger is the only residue

As the others struggle to grow
Seemingly no mercy
Self absorption
recycling the fat

The over achievers were chosen for compliance
Their concealment of hidden flaws
Their biggest feat yet

Ribbon speed

 Dog sprints
Up to the highway
Beside the lorry
Another dog runs into the distance

Dog watches him go
Could have been a her
Probably a smell my one knew
He looks back to me

Deluge between us
Roads turn to shallow lakes
He sprints into it
and swims back to me

Problematic mammal
Love him

Gym routine

 Adjusting the weight
Making way for others
Pushing up
dreams harden

reality begs to be mixed
for it may curdle
Move the seat level
change the position

Exhaust yourself there
So much to prove
Noone to turn to
sweat and effort

thoughts subside
Intensity diminishes
A kind of freedom flexes
Needing to be fed everyday

I'm boring

 Sometimes I speak.

She gives me silence.

Sometimes she speaks
to fill the void.

Perhaps she sees it now:

I'm boring.
I want my space.
No crowds.
No dancing.
No desire.

Just work.
Just work.
Until I disappear.

But work is empty too.

So what remains
when the music dies?

Why keep reaching
for nothing?

Why keep searching
when I can't find
me,
you,
or why
I began?

The lab on the abandoned highway

 Down to the flat two kilometers before the bridge
Where the old sheds stood
Random mediocre macracarpa
Sewagey trees with nothing but big trunks
A peppering of native bush hanging on

There set up your laboratory
Your sophisticated prison
There we can take the other ones
See what they really really believe

Tap into the depths of their mystery diseases
Put them away like cattle inside fences
Kill their parents make it look like suicide
Test the new pop drugs on these ones

See how readily veins buzz and euphoria dwells
Strap them in and see it all shake like those moments
Just before impact during a car accident
Sewage minds will flow

The cattle will be greased
And set alight to distract the cameras

Watch you shiver

 No way across you want to get to know yourself
Sinking half way back to shore
Soon alone feel the heat as if it were cold
Those who said they'd be there and just ignore

Saw you coming on the sand and avoided
Walked back in the opposite direction before you get dry
What did you owe them what did they owe you
What a game to keep score

To hurt deep down to withdraw again
Just to return to the same disgrace
How you feel the tickle of outrage
creeping up on you again

The salt water slowly evapourates
But you've no towel to dry off
And curse the man that offers
And worship the man who took yours

They make it to the floor

 She stared down and began to cry
Life was over
she tried to look up
tears flooded in
down hands together to pray
But no faith

They separate again
How gray it all seems
Tears make it further and further
Her resignation prevents her from wiping
They make it to the floor

Drops dry dreadfully into dust
She cries the rest of me out of her
She'll leave me behind pretty soon
Sharing her misery piece meal with someone else 

Stardom and bloodloss

 Blood from the face
The celebrity lays back on the grass
his nose surgery went awry
Now he bleeds on his beach towel

The gorgeous women in the water unbeknownst
It flows out and panic hooks in
He attempts to stand but shame keeps him prostrate
It keeps coming out
Did the surgeon do a rush job

Was it a mistake to demand the discount 
This would cost him dearly come film time
I'll just wrap my face in the towel, he said to himself
A crow sat on the edge of a solar panel

It seemed to snarl
It looked at the celebrity with hunger
Did it want to eat my nose, he thought
He grabbed his face in his towel and race to his car

He fainted as he opened the door
Doing more damage to his face
The fate reading crow got his prize
Entourage girls kept frolicking picture perfect 

Teenage want and slaughter

 If we had just given up on wanting
We would have more than enough by now
More than we ever had before

There goes I living in the conditional

We lean on the cattle gate
Inside the slaughter shed
Labrynth of sheep death

Teenagers refused
If we had just gone with the flow
We'd be millionaires

It might have been mostly mine

Past the rock
on Devil's elbow
Past the old church nursery

The dead mulberrry
The governor's meager palace
If we had just given up on wanting

But noone ever warned us on the contrary

And we chased the absurd
Were refused and denied 
Were so much less than we thought

Even the sky would shape the cloud into promises

None to grant
Just to steep the hunger
In a mountain tea above a makeshift abattoir

Working for your keep

 The packs were becoming a tall pile
The monitor called us to organize
We were told we could stay if we helped
So we did as we were told

Cleaning the cloak rooms
fixing the broken rides
unseen worker bees
Spanners and screw drivers

Blue uniforms
Though thank god
New shoes over holy socks
three round meals

Maintenence for the park
Voyeurs of the rich
Our grease stained uniforms
Not very good camouflage

Bowie and fish

 David Bowie's eyebrows swam
like two tropical fish
His irony the aquarium
Unsure of his own philosophy
His charities unseen

Always singing
Putting on a show then
escaping his million fans
seeking this hero
The fish swim up

Tickling fan's desires
The salt water had to be perfect
In an imperfect world
One minute bitter from silence
The other overwhelmed by noise

The colors on their bodies
The grace in the water of fame
The appeal from outside
The call from withing
What an aquarium

The road in socks

 Dry summer
long hot daunting days
We are down to our socks
Our tears don't make it to our cheeks
For the sun dries them up

Make our way to the tiny town of waikanae
Our shoes have busted and no longer lace
We continue along the chalky stones in socks
Sunstroked and hopeless

Roadworkers chortle
Point and riff raff rattle
Their junk food faces judge
As we pass emaciated

What charity will have us
What side of God shall will pray to?
As we come to the sanctuary
Muted by Exhaustion 

Pastel colored cars

 These pastel colored amusement park cars
A wall of faces
surrender envy
make me feel
make me feel

The way they ride around seemingly forever
The children laughing gleefully
Their parent's silent competition
Make them feel
something beyond this envy

How they stand now empty
But yearning faces still look on
Imagining driving over smooth
Turnstyle's stuck
Ticket man is absent

It's all beeen traded in for a zoo
So surrender your envy
Or they might just cage you
With the rest of the furry critters
from where the pastel colored cars would sit.

With malice, hornets and brown sauce

 With malice it could be done
Not with sword not with gun
Under a thick dosage of sauce
Brown sauce

Terribly misunderstood steak so thick
The hornet's nest is absent mindedly kicked
And out spin the stingers blood to bleed
You'd think a helping of hyperdermic needles
might jostle the mind inside indeed

With malice he cursed from under his breath
For assasination dwelled in thought
oh whose thought question brought?
The sinew will bake from within
Resistance will dry I'll have mine

Then salted with extracted saline 
to dampen it by force of spin
finishing once again with brown sauce on chin
malice as sweet and overpowering as cinammon

Terribly misunderstood authority inflatted
Malice sunk into the temples of the law creater
brown sauce slipping from the side of the mouth
down like hostile treacle
down like shipwreck

Sinew pulls 
Resistance tries
The begger and the pauper smile
The pretender cries
Maybe a hornet or two will jostle the mind

Failed somatic reclamation

 Some where back in southern Germany.
Where summer sunset took over an hour.
Fucking in an abandoned hospital.
Next to a race track.
Step sons and permanence.

Desperate passions,
quite like huge government projects.
They will tax you.
And you'll never feel like you got to the bottom of it.
Sunsets and fucking are supposed to feel romantic.

But it all felt like a routine checkup.
The woman was enigmatic, euphoric even.
But abandoned hospitals don't bode well for allure.
And going straight for the home run,
felt like a cheap "all you can eat" with a time limit.

The race track near the hospital also empty.
No speeding motors tearing it up on the track.
The thought accelerated me so I could get it done with.
When it was done we took the Johnny gowns off.
Put our regular clothes back on, nothing was better, 

We were still two hurt people inside an abandoned hospital, next to an empty race track.

Walking past my past-self

 I walked past myself on the way to the dairy.
pick up somethings because night would be quick.
Cold afternoons breeze sharp and uncomfortable.
The elm on the corner yellow but it wasn't autumn.

I sought signs in my surroundings.
Like I had been here before.
This life I had absorbed into.
This body I was looking out of.

What I was supposed to be.
What I was supposed to do.
I walked past all that too.
Left it on the footpath.

Walked in the bell chimed.
Went straight to each item without thinking.
The man behind the counter was polite.
The exchange was short almost pleasant.

Out I went looking down at the ground outside the dairy.
The concrete so well stepped on, smoothed over even.
I walked past myself leaning against the wall of the shop.
Smoking a cigarette and pretending not to care, pretending...

Bullies and how they work.

 There's literally no grimmer punishment than getting humiliated by your peers when you are young at school.
Notice how adults as mediocre as we are, quickly forget how terribly dreadful it was to fall into the trap of, or become by proxy the butt of someone's joke, a joke that will involve the participation of the whole class or even the whole year.

And how ridiculous the concept of safe is in schools, when the irony is there is nothing safe. It is a place of social danger. Bullying exists at the same level as always, it was just upgraded.

It has become more of a challenge. And also much more rewarding. Instead of leveraging the sensitive prejudices the bully find himself navigating and engineering situations to make his target seem like the tyrant. And as children naive many get sucked into a situation that paints them the bigot.

The bully continues unaffected. And the teacher pretends that level of manipulation does not exist.
The shame and agony of becoming a pariah when your greatest hope was to belong is worse than losing your job as an adult. Possibly worse than a break up.

Because they haven't built the emotional fortitude to deal with being blindsided on such a level.

Never underestimate a bully.

Shaded vestige

 Merging with grey,
Loves only night.

Daggers drag against hardened cement.

Enemy of day,
blemish upon white.

Teeth that should be crushed are sharpened.

Contrarian of light,
Ingredient of the afraid.

Wings that can be read, their shapes absorbed into tarmac

Concealed from sight,
The human soul it's prey

Almost a whisper

 Calmly I touch you on the shoulder
Neck skin folds 
Head sedately moves round
Lips part briefly

Words spill
As eyes glue
Anticipation meets action
You breathe a word

Calmly I listen to your wonder
Fondness folds
Curiosity gingerly positions herself
The mind wanders

Those who can't....

 
The thing about being a teacher reflects what my father told me a million times.
Those who can, do, those who can't teach.
But those who learn are incredible, their evolution is divine.
And although I struggle with feelings of being no one or nothing,
I see value in what they take.
I have become a gardener of ideas.
I have recycled and pieced together many crazy ideas.
My students have taught me more than I could have ever learned by myself.
I see my biases and my disgusting laziness of thought.
Most of them are smarter than me.
Some of them appear godlike. And If i wasn't born with the right language in my mouth.

I might just have become the nothing that I was taught I was. In the place I was raised.
A negative on society.
An addict.
A tax.
A vandal.

As I couldn't fit in, isn't it justified I became a teacher.

Ring leader

 Lambert creek
venemous caterpillar
Oak that trembles in winter
Unwilling to shed leaves
Feeding the prefrost pests

Cursing the land
as the boy in the sandpit
Tightens his jacket in gale
Positions his soldier figurines

Citizen salt
Ash and so hygienically clean
Not a leaf brown or rusted
Litters the street

Sitting on the Thonet
Contemplating 
scribbling in black book
Pondering excrutiating death

Rallying the restless
Harnessing their inadequacies
Into a tangible hate refined arcane
rehearsing for the scourge

Noble Aim Conundrum

 The intoxication of social prestige
 Pushed the prosperous to kill 
Their original altruistic goals
Overidden by an indulgnet sense of power

The group convinced of their modis
From pew to tank pray mantis divine
New found authority
A strange cull is undertaken

Armed to punish the world
According to their doctrine
The victims all happenstance pedestrians
Suffering and dying at their hands

The social prestige pushing them to do their worst,
predators for recognition
Shaping their words to sculpt
the uneasy realities of their atrocities

From the inside

 Beating your head on the inside of the door
locked in and subject to the reoccuring frustrations
The door is too thick
straightjacket unwilling
banging and banging

No resolve
No relief
No reprieve

The thick wood and brick
Sealed within
A tomb
Asylum mania
Brain damage
Skull fractures

Beneath the castle

 I was born into a prison
Floor strewn with hay
No guard outside the bars
Just a servant to poke food through at the end of the day

Mother's face
Forbidden legacy
Kept in secret 
in captivity

Bars thin but unbreakable
unrustable
The skin sweat coating
from long hours of reflection

of incarceration
of keeping my small body strong
In the still air of the dungeon
Beneath

Rest stops, homesteads and Arnold Sage

 She drove me to the moutain retreat in texas transpecos.
The heat of summer still heating the highway there. 
Sarah conner scenic.
She changed gears as we got to the foothills.
Would show me the big vegetable garden.
And teach me a thing or two about gardening there.

The day clear as a linda hamilton apron.
Pre egg insertion.
Jenny turned to me and asked-
"Rest stop?"
I nodded slowly distracted by the ponderosas.
The brakes slowly squeaked.
A concrete structure appeared over the rise.

A steel skeleton stood propped up next to the seven eleven sign.
A mother and her Furlong in a stroller walked briskly past.
Light purple flowers hung from the texas Arnold sage bushes.
Massive bulging branches holding thick bracts of flowers.
Each one being targeted by drone like bees.

"How did you know, that was there?"
"I could see it in my mind." Jenny said
A small convenience shop and bathrooms came into view.
Snacks and relief later back into those foothills.
Climbing just high enough to see the vegetation change.
There is it was the smile on her face told me.
Pulling in to a narrow dusty driveway.

Old train station of purgatory

 The old train station sitting in the forest
The roof gray damp and gathering moss
The southern side in shade
Old graffiti faded barely readable
Each letter a latent spirit hanging
Draping down in different uneven shapes
Eyes squint to decipher them

Morning trades places with afternoon
It all merges again into a different form
Extending like icicles pointing down
Cold and accusing
The ferns at the base of the wall
Curl up to keep fronds from touching

The empty small building
Waiting to be inhabited

The yellow flowers of heaven

  I see you clothed in yellow flowers
I see them falling
 I no longer see the mists
The one that came down like hot water to dispatch you

Oh the far away goddess
I dreamed of being loved by you for a lifetime
The world wanted to see strength
I guess i can pretend

Disdain makes such strange fuel
But I'm glad I was there to show you how far I'd go
Every piece of the son or the child soured over into
such a cynical older man

You are separated and so far
Celebrations bring the may breeze
And those abundant yellow flowers
That cover the path you married on

Big dreams were lived and new ones sown
Go on with the old illusions
wrapped for a chrstmas that will never come
Like leaves dried and flattened in a book
labeled and forgotten

Am I one of those to you woman?
Am I one of those to you world?
Am I just waiting to be the dehydrated page you open
Reminisce that I might have shared a piece of myself

I imagine dying slowly running out of breath
as my heart fights my lungs for not reaching for more
Does that do for comedy
These tears absurd

In your perfect bubble on the ass end of the world
You might pour a glass to toast the wandering offspring 
Who could not corner his prey
Who lost his bounce

Who sees the gates there resplendent
With those yellow flowers
That got you an inch closer to a truth
Palatable to a world of labels

Back to the lights

 I left the tall forests walking slowly back toward the townlight
I avoided a swamp and some hissing reptillian in the grass before me
Wrists and ankles humming with electricity
Moving witht he slow drifting cloud
Painted with the reflection of city light

A town I didn't know loved me
That would welcome me back
Even though I need the altitude
The delusions and comfort of highplaces
The world may never move there

So I'll move myself
Like an ambitious orphan
teaching himself the way back to
The city of light

I left it all and felt the shape fo the rock in my hands
What was I thinking as a four year old boy
When I had been here to investigate in dreams
Up here in the forbidden peaks of the Mantiquera 

innocent heat

 In the innocent heat
I wrote your name with my finger
steam and wist
A star blink

Longing comes when the day is gone
How we wish thing were different
Casting spells instead of talking
Giving offerings but saying nothing

I could see the outline of something forming
coming through the street
The hush has fallen over the city
Must we wonder what could have been

In the innocent heat
The kind that tests sanity
That make me forget this aging vessel
The spirit of something manifesting

Blowing steam against a cold window
wistfully painting that name
Hope always there to take
reality a fickle finders keepers sort of goblin

Squeeze the world for color

 The dripping of reality
mutlicolored liquid 
slipping into the world
a drop into the eyes
A drop on the surface of the land

Each color an aura 
A drama under the wig
Inside the shocked face
swirling inside teh gaping mouth

Mixing and souping in the gravity
Thoughts and observations
Merging internal reflections
Erroneous perceptions

Taking the viewer further out into the depths
Of a multicolored lake inviting them to slowly drown
In those over pinked and over purpled delusional fantasies
In those depths there is abundance of feeling

Just zero oxygen

Open house and other projections

 Big bleached hair on the skinny man
Here to ask for the price of rent
be showed through the homes
Let him in

Tolerate the overexcitement
The convincing approach
he is here to sign a contract
Yet he is pushing the argument

He is underweight
running on the fumes
On the suds
On the euphoria of the last lay

Skin leathery up close
But shining and radiant from afar
Almost a lowlevel politician
Too separate too unknown

You judge this man
Not even unfolding the lease
He reminds you to much of yourself
In a world where honesty is pure vulgarity

Weather remind me

 I forgot who I once was
calling down from the cliff
my voice lost somewhere near the bottom
Where drafts shift and circle back
Compund ghosts of the past fight amongst themselves for direction

I paced back and forth upon the summit
Moon says hide
daylight sun says confront
Wind taunts with tone of dead empires
Invisible fingers on my shoulder

I look down to where the ocean hits the rock below
Slurping and spitting a slow sense of the sea at feast
The mist of it rises and freshens me
Every voice of the climate
calling me to stand and remember 

Beach cabin hardly walk

 The two cabins on the beach front sat passive resigned
Waiting for retired couples to fill them
Their whispers and murmurs almost audible
over the crashing waves

They sit like tired toddlers
Slowly nodding to each other
beige faces window eyes unwinkable
Squatting there near the sand

As if freshly placed within the play pen
But the two children are still
Rubbing eyes and waking
Unworried and unaware of the world

Awaiting human hosts to give them real souls
To routine them into magical existence
walls bulge slightly outward
healthy mother's milk 

An old couple is taken for the tour
they go through each room
and feel slightly more glum
They walk out wondering why anyone would live in either

When you forgot your vanity

 The mirror looks out
Theres nothing in the room
No human, not even a spirit
Would be good just to see a pair of eyes but no

The presence invades the empty house
vain voids and fresh pain
hanging cords but no chandelier
the sense of birth death and a short infancy lost to the backrooms of another universe

The mirror coughs
a stream of water bursts from the glass
It screams in a distraught english accent -are you having a laugh
A tooth came flying out blood tipped

The clean clothes on the bed tongued the sheets
The floor burped 
footsteps came up the stairs toward the bedroom
A person entered avoiding the stale entity in the mirror

Floating table and food hell

 Ten meters above the party I was standing on floating table
Every side featured a person who was eating from a big bowl
Some for of chip and some form of dip
the only sense of it all was pure gluttony

I tried to steady myself on the floating table
It went up and down, I almost fell off
Things were so precarious
But I was the newcomer

The rest of the people here had been here for centuries
Feeding on their big bowl of overflavored favorite snack
The table was so unstable I was sure to fall
Forced to move with it's ups and downs

Asked to feed with the fixed souls
As they kept eating and invited others to eat
I craved some sort of balance there was none
I craved some sort of medicine

Only present in my sense of equilibrium

The railway checkpoint

 In the gully there was a checkpoint on the traintrack
Where the local trains ran through
I approached and was stopped by a guard
He inquired as to what i was doing

Before I could answer a crowd of people had formed
They were pushing from behind
The guard separated the crowd with a boomgate
I got stuck on the side on the tracks

I imagine a train arriving
Getting flattened with the three or four fomopeople
The guard hauled out an empty wagon platform
We stood on it and it carried us off to nowhere

The evening saw my face

 Partially disguised running on the platform
People in their thirties walked in pairs and trios
Some drunk and some stoned
The evening inhaled the last breaths of the afternoon
Came walking and crossed my path like a black cat

This night no trains were coming in, just longing
Big bulb lamp light was just starting to glow
She saw my face under the scarf
I failed to conceal myself 
People search faces, I wouldn't give mine

The night forced me into an embrace, tempted me kindly
I had no idea of who she was
I wasn't inebriated so searched my memory
But the only memory I had was the current one being created

The villian Señor Adriel Júpiter Cat chef

 His name was Jupiter he was from southern Argentina.
The cold edges near the bottom of the continent.
He was a villain.

He kidnapped some local pets, cats and dogs and even some birds.
Prior to this, He had spent three months building a giant blender in his back yard.
He shaved pets and plucked the feathers pet birds. 
The afternoone in question late spring almost november, he put the pets inside the blender.
Then he turned it on.
He was expecting to hear the animals screech as they were chunked inside the machine.
But it was so fast Mr Jupiter started crying. He had kicked himself for sharpening the blades inside the shredder too much.

To make matters worse the spinning blades hadn't liquified the animals.
The bones had become lodged in the small gaps within the gyrating center.
 The think shut down.
There was nothing left living inside. But it was all so roughly cut it was minutes before the sun caught on and sent a rotting smell through the neighborhood.

He grabbed buckets and started shoveling the chunky mess in and taking it down to his basement. There he had an older man in his late fifties on a maneuvrable crucifix.
In his panic he turned the crucifix to the sleeping position so the old man would stop moaning.
He tipped the contents out into a big container.
Then ran upstairs and came rushing down again with buckets full.
Emptying them again. 
After twelve trips he sat inside the basement staring at the vat.

He took out some of the slop put it in a bowl and mixed with flour. took it upstairs to his kitchen and made some patties.
He brought several patties back down and fed himself and the older man on the crucifix.¿Me vas a dejar ir de acá alguna vez, o simplemente me vas a matar? ¿Cómo puede darte satisfacción mi dolor? Ya ni siento el cuerpo.

Cerrá la boca, pedazo de gil. Comé y agradecé el descanso. Si pensabas que este era el final de tu sufrimiento, entonces ya me diste más que suficiente satisfacción. Es como azúcar en la lengua y merca en la vena. Qué bicho soso que sos. Recostate y listo, que total yo me voy de acá en un toque. Tengo una licuadora que arreglar.

Before Adriel made his way back upstairs he glaced back at the gloop.
A single eye perhaps a cat's one, that was positioned in a way that made it look like it was staring.
Adriel stood hypnotized as they eye somehow managed to blink then open even wider.
Adriel flipped the crucifix back up putting the old man in terrible pain.
He showed his middle finger and said

Ah, el Diablo. El Diablo está envidioso otra vez. Pero esto no es una competencia. Andá y hacé la tuya. No vengas acá a sacar ideas.

Secrets of expanding dark

 Darkness falls and folds into itself
The realm of light cringing
The dark doubles over into itself
Light turns it's back

Dark compounds and intensifies
Sewing itself deeper within itself
Light turns up it's nose in disgust
Then darkness expands outward

A shameless blobby blotch spreading
A furious void consuming the exit of light
A thatching dark network layers of blackness
And throughout it, a true sense of nothing

It came to me showed me friendship
When the light turned itself off
Now it's about delving
Understanding the strangeness

Adapting and submerging
Until I too become the void entirely 

Deepening lines of heaven

 Lines scribbled over heaven
Smile deepens slightly
forward offered tucked tightly
given freely

I recieve them
Lines of heaven soothe nerves
surrender curiosity
desert waves heart deserves

Just to observe now
wealth in arousal
flushed from brain down
I grow into the day

Send a form of joy like mail
Tease but don't mock
blond hair in that pony tail
Sports your life

Sneak a smile sign
Noone else saw
It was salty and divine
ready to kiss

But never lips of mine
You are but an invention
Concocted...
from my mind

I don't exist to you
I'm infront, you are blind

When Orcus Rises

 Happy animals
They smile with glee
humm and bark happily
on the rocks above the water

Gossiping together that way
Then singing in unison
Between splashes of waves
the rhythm of the music

Satisfied up on those rocks
their little click on craggy steps
They shimmer in the sun
I can see their skin from the depths

A small group jumps in
I feel urgency in my fins
I brace for impact
collect the mammal 

crunch down and devour through
surface red my jaw feels relief
Soon stomach will too
I don't care for your words

I just want to eat you

Chris knew

 I've come to talk to you about the dilemmas
Unfinished tower
I know I'm going backward
Just to go forwards

You were the one that had both sides
Navigated the drama
Played the fool
Maybe the taste of it still haunts you

Like a neglected construction site
Several hazards before you get in the door
I don't deserve your advice
Because I just blamed you

I just became someone's animal
But there is no solution to give
There is the chaos of life
drink it down

The renovation is waiting

 The dead end
The sad smile
the sleepless night
hands fold into each other

Think about the things never built
The things on pause
Just routine to sustain
the rest undone

unsigned way of life
unknown path
With dead ends and sad smiles
with comfort and predictability

The slow separation
the dread of farewell

Going unseen

I don't want to be seen anymore
Not by anyone anywhere
Noone can recognize me
No place in anyone's life

I'll just invade and enjoy the void
I will furnish it all out
Play the game of solitude
Ignoring admiration I had for the world

Once I tried conversation
Valuable exchange
Remember odd event eyes met
Explain it all away in the head

Allocate me to oblivion
A man can be an island
Impossible to admit feelings
yonder smooth sand, mystery

Offend the heart
Recover then...
feel or experience it all
Pretending none of it affects

Bright beginnings, sudden ends
Songs of life with memorable choruses

Truths and small talk

 Wander around the periphery. Never give up on those footsteps, Their way through any given morning. Glimpse the way it moves.

Rewire my mind.
Taste the connection.
Push everything away.
State how unknown it all is.
Life is love is learning too.
All of those things so true.
Needs or wants, life as pretend.
Eyes meet is all the honesty there is.
Addictions driven by delirious dreams.
Quiet politeness reveals nothing of inner storm.
Shyness rarely broken.
Forbidden eye contact.
Deep truth through some soft surface.
Every affection and service.
The physical person undiscovered.
Excited or bored with personal information.
Provide perfect icebreaker. We only share silence.
So be it.

The Commuters Crisis

Sense of together
Rush tests patience
Streets are days
Vans and trucks run hours by

Blue smoke gushes
daylight combustion

Urgency spreads yoga armas and legs
Traffic jams in every direction
The mind is a distracted goose chase
Through smog and laughter and backfiring motorbikes

Garages have undergound arms
The boom gate keeps you out you are empty handed.

Impulsive horn violent imposing
Burst into well timed tears of a person burning out
Heated temples rapid heartbeat unable to hug themselves
The greenlight shines down accelerate only to break

Catatonic in the queue

 

Desire to sleep in ultimate peace
Long to bathe in tomorrow's sun
Many seek to reconnect themselves
Attempting to love but falling for need

Offer presents of favors
Specific things you wished
Just to get you to notice
Before you turn away again

Mysteries seem to make everything bigger
Mute when the day demanded a voice
Dismissive when attention was needed
All prefer love, all prefer to be known

Each person carrying their hearts like containers
Lining up infront of the same unavailable shops
Falling asleep in the queue
Dreaming of this ideal person

Some graffiti the walls
Some attempt to break windows
But they don't break they just look outward
Like eyes surveying these desperate people

Am I free to leave this line?
Will I linger the way you imagined?
Do you smirk from the inside?
Do you tease me pointing at the locked door?
Or feed me with subtle smiles and turns of the head?

A live mannequin behind the thick glass
More alive than I and the empty wanting people
Shaping the scenery with the grace in your gesture
Sleeping bags roll out night chill arrives
Some consider losing their place in line

Turning back to the candle light on the otherside of the glass
Supercharging their fantastic fantasies
They sit or lay there in the queue
Shutting eyes and entering sleep
While I stare through the window catatonic

Mountain drifter

 The path seems narrow
rocky and uncertain
There is a crutch under my right shoulder
I have been using it for the steeper climbs
and to support my injured leg

Following this path this vein
Around the mountain
I trust it gets me there
To That place i've dreamed
For now just trudge

Or is this the place
This narrow track
Stoney and uneven
Yet on this path i can stop
I build sticks and stoke

Berries grow at knee height
Here the mountain protects me from the south wind
Maybe I need to build it right here
Where few monsters dare to climb
There is no material, will i live in a cave?

There are few trees and I have no tools
What must I do

Groceries and heatwaves in winter

 The heat wafted through the carpark
Blasted faces as we exited
Exit routine
Exit ourselves

Put overfilled bags down on bench
Sweat beads join to blind
Then the overbright haze
clumsy woman leaves cart

Eyes meet disdain glows
But is lost in the shimmer
Hands wrap around the handles
pulling it all up its too heavy

The car pulls up
The man inside has taught himself to be happy
He doesn't recieve requests from anyone
But we ask him which is it

but the answer doesn't come
There is no satifaction
The heat spoke and said
Hold onto your burdens 

The line between life and death

 Yesterday was beautiful
That was the day i died
yeah, it was incredible
But now it seems a hundred years ago
Is it?
Has it been that long?
From my death realm I touch the present
And see within the bubble a present that is not mine
As if time has accelerated since my earth life
As if things just kicked off once I left

And the clicking sound my finger makes
As it enters the bubble and allows me to see in
It can only be the ticklish God that put me in here
The death realm all colors and ecstacy
But it's not heaven
They are still fitting it out apparently
I'm sure I could add a feature or too

But souls are just supposed to hangout here
Take a look at the world's progress
Sip some kind of thick liquid that makes you change shape
Yes I never knew I would die
But as I pierced the line I could hear God shouting
Maybe they got the order wrong
Maybe it wasn't my time
Maybe it was voodoo technology

But now im here in the death realm
Pancaked ont he ceiling for amusement
I have my solace and euphoria
My unrealistic expectations
And deep down that feeling that heaven should be ready
so nothing really changed.

Not a suitor

 Her father came out
Light ginger brown hair fat spectacles
A slight sign of relief on his face
Unless it was his pretend greeting for all face

But I'd never seen him before
I was there to indulge a strange wish
And then the man went on to tell me
All the wonderful things I had done

Some of them real some embellished
Some were absolute flukes
Others projects I nourished
I was flattered and confused

Cousins and brothers still in their early teens
Ran through the house causing accidents 
The high ceiling and huge living room
made the place look inviting for horseplay

Then the mother came out
She looked slightly like her daughter
something her daughter deep down never liked
Seeing as a curse of future self

She was vigilant andstared into me with beady eyes
She thought I was a suitor
But I didn't want to be there
Seems digging into the past just reveals more dead bodies 

Frontal impact test

 Your new man is interesting looking
What have you come searching for?
Or better yet why do you want me here?
Just to play a game, truth or dare?

Want me to replace him, you look happy enough
Why don't you take this chance and settle?
Feelings are fleeting life is rough
Did he fail when you tested his metal?

When you appeal and charm then go hot and cold
When you overcare then vaccum like a black hole
Tell me was he bothered. How did he feel during those?
Show love for another, did his affection still grow?

How a child's love killed

 The baby rabbit in it's shell
The animal kicking inside it's easter egg
The gardens around the homestead filled with curious children
Wanting to touch and own the animals

One child in particular had become enamoured to the egg
And grabbed it and started to think of ways to reach it
To help it escape from it's outer shell
Mostly as to hold it

This baby rabbit wasn't coming out
The child carried the egg it was in, around
like a sacred artifact over the grass
Through the mud, over rocks

The child carried the baby rabbit everywhere
Into the house to see inside the egg's small hole
To the child's despair the rabbit was dead
Too much shaking and wanting

World a teacher

 Tell me, who am I to question so much?

Why do I look around and feel so out of touch.

See the world out here feel it hard to breathe

They accept at face value yet I cannot believe

I would ask you big world

Why I've misplaced desires

I dread you will respond

each one is a lie

Impossible to fulfill

even when they seem in reach,

Do you just cut us off 

when there's nothing left to teach


Who am I to question

 tell me why I should fuss

The earth a strange teacher

from birth to dust 

A fool's prayer

 God, what am I
that I question everything so much?

Why do I look around and see the rest of the world
accepting so much at face value?

I would ask you

Why have you given me so many desires
that seem impossible to fulfill?

And why,
when they finally seem within reach,
have some of them already lost their excitement?

Have I played a trick on myself,
or is this really the name of the game?

Why should I continue to chase my dreams
and invite you to collaborate?

But I do...

Invading the Amygdala

 One billion demons
cloud the mind
one climbs over the other
each one famished

their claws and horns a tangle
Like an ants nest in frenzy
crawling over each other 
to find my fear center

limbs are exhausted
neurons are sleep starved
the hoard encroaches
There's a burning smell

Images from the worst of nightmares
Projecting into me
swarming
searing and blistering

Their paradise is close
As they breach the arachnoid matter
They come like a galaxy of pestilent bad dreams
Will i just use their wrath and digest them

David, Alberta and the blood of Brook

 He convinced his superviser that all was well
A week from that day they would never see him again
Things at the meatworks were going bad for him
His hours were reduced, rumours he was lonely

He changed out of his bloodstained gear
The air and darker days spoke to the onset of winter 
Like the beginning of a movie you don't want to watch
He suddenly realized his budget would tighten

He could no longer afford his favorite beer
No longer go to the bar with friends saturday afternoon
Had to ration fuel and junk food
Had to ration anger at vegetarians

He gulped watered down coffee
sipped depression
Rewinding one's trajectory
A specific torture

Empty highway after clocking out
Scattered leftovers from morning's snow
The heart doesn't beat it farts
short lifeless farts

Too many feelings to digest
He pulls into his small rundown cabin
Wood rotting under the white ten year old paint
He turns the key in swift motion

heart farting like pre-diarrea squirts
He turns on the two bar
dives into his sleeping bag
and bathes himself in screenlight

Useless, hopeless consumed by his own darkness
The lonliness so foreign to his dwindling highschool self
It was only two years ago in Edmonton so optimistic
Now friendless and just on broke in Brooks

Stop running son

 Stop running he said
Just take a rest here you are exhausted
-Who are you talking to, the old man by the baitshop asked.
Oh I was just...

Calm your head, life is going to test you
Nothing is ever set
Boy it groans, tis a mess
Just slow down mate, I feel sickened by the rush

Stop running right here
it makes no difference
-Son are you in trouble? The old man asked again.
I met eyes but words couldn't break the membrane

Take it easy here. Why are you still running.
Noone cares. It's a quick life then you die.
I looked back at the hills behind.
My voice opened up like a yodel

"You have a fucking quote for everything"

Silence was the response and the old man from the baitshop walked off.
Is all of this effort really necessary?
Would you like to tell me these are the obsessions that age us
That fade our animo and vitality, wear us out

I dig you up and I hold your skull up
and scream inside to make you listen
Pentrate that thick bone so that you might get an inkling
"I must build and prosper"

Instead of silence I can hear you laughing then chuckling
Not the sickly on that would have you in a coughing fit
But the healthy one that went on for far too long
As if the notion I could out do you was a joke

Slow down sun
Stop running...

When the ship leaves

 Moored not far from the abode
The ship would depart for england that afternoon
Something they were convinced was important
Raising flags and giving speeches

Would I be on that ship
Or left back here at port
loitering around beachfront shops
purposeless and lost

No I'd be stuck in the bungalow
writing words forming roots
That traveled like the ship
Underground mycorrhiza for my creativity

The smell of salt and confusion
The pen runs dry of ink
The islands and inlets that inspired me
remain unmentioned

pieces of the land and people I wanted to grace
In an empty state stuck on this thin chunk of coast

Smooth seas

 We can all pretend
Awkardness is avoided like this
The partner meets the desire
They converse there dockside

Desire wants to throw a curveball
Asking what the other would do for a hungry child
Perfect humanitarian responses and on time
There was recognition

Almost a clang of rapport
Or so the heart of the man in the middle wished
On the dock there, congratulating each other
Kind souls in theory and throwaway conversation

Find a way to relate for my sake
common ground around the elephant
crushing dock planks
push smiles, try eyecontact

The two of you don't have to be in the same room
The ocean reflects the sun but storms are coming soon
The two of are welcome to trade illusions
Before the typhoon

Timing to hide

 He saw traces of her as she avoided him
Be avoided

Feel that, feel it in the center
You liked someone almost a decision

The rays of admiration clunky and donkey like
So she evades 

He couldn't catch her face
She went back in her room

She only comes when its safe
The seaside cabin

Soon she would abandon
Forget and let go of it all like a professional

Many men and women have this superpower
Whatever they feel is disposable

They don't act on their feelings
Knowing it'll pass

Like naivety in the downpour
Like a cheap sitcom

On the wooden balcony someone waits
What she feels drowns there in the shadow of the shallows

Coughing up ginger while fishing

 Laying on the floating block next to the fishing boat 
Not far from nameless pier
I baited hooks while rays and eels swam underneath
I coughed up ginger fiber it looked like the bait

A yellowish meat that should be chicken but wasn't
The line slowly extended into the waters
I lifted my legs from the water incase something bit
The line was coming out faster

Almost no time to get the bait on
Before that line went out to lure some poor fish
The waters were just so abundant like there were no predators
Should I just slip into the water and become th shark

How they lost their names

 The ferry would leave sometime at the end of the day
Some of the visitors made themselves at the picnic table
In the gully further from the port
pollen poured down from the hills

James was bragging about his time in california
About witnessing redwoods and impossible autumns
A sense of something passing through your hands
That you couldn't close your fingers around

As he spoke a cold front came through the sea
The surf became choppy kilometers down the hill
The cloud multiplied itself sporting innocent whites
The stirring and sliding into guilty grays

Maybe thunder clapped, rain came in blocks
James and his friends walked back to port
The rain soaking their sweatshirts
exacting frowns, dampening their moods

They didn't bother seeking shelter under narrow bridges
Their long walk was so dreary in that thick rain
They started to lose their hope, no breaks, no lull
They started to forget their own names.

The silver watch

 Green sweat ticks from within the pulse
Wrist watch moustache
Freaky bracelet adjuster
tan line biter

Enough with the insults
hands stop turning to check
The battery is deceased
it opens up and closes

Silver reflecting the sun
Hoping it be noticed
The prized accessory
Like the mercedes

It was dreamed of and coveted 
Years before it could be afforded
And as soon as it was acquired it was forgotten
Like a piece of the body suddenly

Only coming off before a shower
like an identity tag
A freaky piece of jewelry
a glued on moustache

A tiny glass table
with twelve places set

Sourness fried

 Friday sourness brows furrow
tires you out sanding down bones
Wigwamming the skull
swigs and gulps avoid dehydration

Morning grinds nerves
Midday chaps lips
Sun scores points 
House heat sweats the flesh

People still order the sourness
|Salty exhaustion 
Battered and thrown
Into the frying pan

Turned as the pan bubbles and pops
browning
Landing on the screen
splattering

Katrina in the stadium

 Shes sitting in the stand with her best friend
No big opinions about anything
Just checking the information
creating those temporary jokes
Little handy pieces of gossip

Twenty six, blond, quasi professional cheerleader
Rich parents that are obsessed with her
Dimples that flare during smiles and shock
The kind of tan that gives her legs a caramel look
Incredibly giggly and charismatic

Her face angles change when she shows interest
One goes from left to right as if a thought is turning her head
The subtlest of smiles reveals something secret
It has so many features, so many airports to those dimples
It is simply evidence for the evolution of her smile

The glitch in my father

 The glitch in the father
He stood there rollerdoor open
He stands there taking in the ray of sunlight
Then the sky becomes overcast

He shifts into twin existance
Two of him overlapping himself
like an outside aura
All the shapes and color of the father

The air is a concrete color
the breathing in and out
feels like wool
He looks out to his parked car

Goes back through his story
His face giving evidence
As he travels through memory
Him and his double

Which part of him is real
soon the courier will arrive
Some boxes will leave
He will just stare through his spectacles

stuck in the memories
transported by them
Made vague there in the factory corridor
Concrete and neutral

Vanity and the slug brain

 The gym is inside outside
push yourself its intimate
In the pink
glass walls
Transparency
The other gyms nearby
looked into each other

People looking on
Gossiping and eavesdropping
You are exposed
every attempt amusing
Trying hard
falling short
delusion frolics

The brain is not sexy
The flesh and muscles are
The brain is a slug
leaving trail of goo
The gym keeps us dry
Soaks up the slime
Then you sweat

eyes fall on your skin
from inside the gym
through the glass
you think it's progress
But it's desperation
Like I said
Delusion frolic
Your oen legs dance
To the rhythm it creates

It turns into a rally

 On the hill above the squabbling crowds
giving their ridiculous opinions
Their political bias spewed out
the way they hold each other up

Hateful words irrigating the mob
Rhetoric both abrasive and poisonous
Yet the swarms gobble it down immune
Or worse sustain their outrage on it

Eyes fill with rage and survey the surroundings
Like the audience was checking itself for outsiders
The words slipped from the box
Up out of the throat falling through the air

Like young people flying out of a water slide
Straight into the anticipating ears of the multitude

Meals on the mar

 She's a luncheon maiden 

working on the cruise defused

All spikey and wacky

A voyeur far from shore

Unhinged but adored

uncertain of her charm

Undressed and unsure

duvet open

leg lotion

just a special luncheon

and a table cloth around her waist

Down the wrong alley

 Get out of the car.
swing out and gasp
exhausted
street haze at night

Moonless and starless night
pavement apathetic
bordering on criminal
scavengers get pulled in

Door swings opens
creaks
Driver in trance
mouth open

1970's datsun
a dead vulture
still flapping its wings under tyre
just nerves though

A muted scream
lips trigger mouth
all open now
terrorfied eyes

Alley way narrow
trash can open and full
smell of terror
Datsun one meter

A rat looks up
jailed youth in its eyes
mold on its furr
scarpers now

The young man is still gobsmacked
Numbskulled and bamboozled
The abyss has looked into him
The brick wall blurrs

The last flap of vulture's wings\
shadows spring from the filth
sprinting toward the derelict shelters
To conjure nightmares

Am I the rock?

 My passion drives me forward

 I fall and make mistakes

 Among the chaos I find the pieces

 I need to rearrange the puzzle

in the form i need

You look doubtful and the tide never comes in
But I know deep down the missing piece in you

Broken pieces reveals nothing to the world, ha  but I see

I was never meant to see, but i do

I fit them together, into each of my eyes, one by one

Until scattered pieces become you

Thus i see signs of the sea lapping margins
Then I trust the tide will obey the moon and move inward

Forced against its will, driven forward

In its waves crashing

And am I the rocks you ask

For not at all am I the rocks

You look doubtful at me as if I am tiny and I am
For I sit here on this beach as the sand

waiting for you to come over

Stupid little plans

 Fingers pick the clothes edges
arms raise with that sense of rhythm and repetition
The free hand opens the peg
it closes over the material and clings

Shoulders go from shrug to extension
she gets lost out there in the wind
The cardigan flies as the breeze lifts it
The line is full 

Another week of clothing hangs
moistureless day collaborate
rustle and blow the material
Until it is ready to put away

To wear over ourselves
for our agreed pretend
Shoulders go from reach to extension
you have no clue

There's this long line
her smalls and my bigs
in a wind that parches
that knows somehow

The secret that I keep
the peg box is empty
The imagination full
Bending and picking up the next wet shirt

Another space full
Another illusion bought and paid for
Another yearning fool
Dreaming of worlds so far off

Failing in the practical house hold jobs
Tightening the line
What's left over 
rides away on the clothes horse

There her shoulders are
Making their way out of her dress
Lifting and falling like the days
Smiling at me when she has her back turned

The free hands hold an edge
There's no peg to hold it
Nothing to secure a fixed life
You just thought it would be set in stone

But the wind blows those stupid rags right off
They get scattered into the neighbors yard
Right out onto the road
stupid little plans, broken little hearts

No dia que lembrei

 Apelo para amanhecer
Está na hora de conhecer o ânimo,

aquela camada esquecida,
o pacote dentro de mim.

Apelo para a tarde
O sol conversa comigo,

me ensina o seu caminho,
linhas através do céu.

Está na hora de conhecer
a parte de mim
que negligenciei,
que não dei importância.

Agora, no final do dia,
sou grato por ter vivido isso.
A luz final está iluminando
essa parte de mim
que por tanto tempo escondi.

The moon and my performance

 Blankness started this morning
Not only did the world stop watching me
But little accidents speedily interrupt the day
I am getting all the karma back they say

on the walk to the gym the moon watches me
It says I wnat to show the world something
I say so boldly -yeah so what
then i see it blink

And as I briskly step it whispers
it says you have nothing to show for your efforts
I flip the bird at the big old rock
flex the calfs and nail the squat

and get right back on this rugged page
Where your eyes have come
to bathe in my word-magic grace

the socks didn't wash

 I turned the socks inside out
and grass and soil fell onto the floor
I put the coffee on and had a snack

Dawn was about 20min away
morning still seemed a part of night
I would be sweating and thinking

This was my routine
My fate for the foreseeable future

My nurse at Hawkesbury

 the mountain made my home
the bay bathed close to the land i lived
The insane garden where a local ghost shone
In dusks contempt

Something that lost it's humanity
would wheel itself down the corridor after midnight
Screeching and squealing across the linoleum
It didn't enter my room or haunt me directly

It was the soul of a dead nurse
One that had left the world many decades ago
The scraping of the old wheel chair
Lulled me at once and sent me to slumber

It's predictable routine would repeat
There in old Cherry farm now hawkesbury
Where people with broken minds
would live out their pain

The empty paddock below the window
Where something stood just at the edge of vision
Ushering the nurse out like some desperate parent
Every night they replayed the same short drama

One night she was in my room murmuring and facing the wall
I wanted to tell her I knew how lonely it felt
But she could feel i already knew
Maybe she was there because i was sadder than her
And she was dead

How Tara twinkled

 Twinkle her teacher used to call her
I saw that smooth beauty
Everything formed the way it should
That flicker of uncertainty as she fell in love with me

There near the octogon where she would want to dance the night long
There where a piece of me corrupted society itself
She knew how to move in the light 
Storm into the darkness taking every part of me with her
Ever since Ive struggled with the madness

The cold and the heat abnormally climbing spine
Through the best of me
Twinkle and she's standing with the stolen rose 
I am the guilty party

Soaring into mosquiel
To hunt her down
Across dying city lights
Diesel and dreams of strenth
Twinkle Tara twinkle in the darkness
A lost suburb

Found you by the light of aurora australis
Lust fought love and won
Uphill and none understand
These highway veins on the side of my face
As I drive headfirst into Tara's deeper layers
Does this woman even know

The depths to the creature I have become
The frost rocks across the dawn
I meet it halfway and walk out onto solid grass naked
It twinkles like that brave woman
Reflecting sparkly luck

Glued shut

 I glued my mouth shut
Such a great accident
Left the table
Went to the bathroom

To try to undo the mess
Unstick one lip from the other
So that words and breathing could flow
To no avail all stuck all quiet

If my nose got blocked
I'd suffocate

Jenny's take, oh.

 First read

Only had two stanzas.
Read like you were clearing your mind
of all distractions.

Then, third stanza,
Distractions coming in.
Your mind starts saying things,
reminding yourself that you need
some false teeth.

Fourth and fifth stanzas
Begin looking for outside comforts.
Outside on the balcony,
looking down at the pedestrians,
their comforts,
fancy clothes.

It becomes overwhelming.

Sixth stanza
Either daydreaming
or actually sleeping in the sun,
escaping into yourself,
into your solitude,
into meditation.

Seventh stanza,
tone changes.

It is shorter,
Snappier rhythm
Sharper rhyme.

It is almost
as if someone else is speaking.

I feel the next stanzas
are different dreams.

One of them is a sexy dream.

Supported by the blue zone thing
Saying through your dreams
you are living
many, many lives.

In the twelfth,
you dream of an art gallery

In the thirteenth stanza
you mention your original ink,
probably your tattoo.

The fourteenth
Reference to the pirate thing
I wrote for you.

I guess you climb up
and play for a while,

Back to your place
your new apartment,

which is your imagination,
or your dreams,

Like getting a glimpse
inside of your brain

Many different ideas,
dreams, hopes,
and annoyances

floating around.

It was a very nice read.

Tour during dry season

 In the bus floating over the land
scanning the land for interesting forms
The rains had died down weeks ago
Seldom a sign of their floods

Tour guide mute
sky slowly extending it's right hand
All the way through the window
To shake my little hand

Dust was hissing and spinning up
As the tyres dug into dry turf
The hazey plumes in the wake of the bus
Stole any scenery from our recent past

Shrine stuck

 I made a shrine out of jenga pieces
They were wooden
But sorcery turned them into concrete
I built something tall

Something with a void in its middle
So that I would be able to make offerings
I would make the religious envious
How cunning I had been

For strong winds couldn't topple it
the hardened pieces weighed into place
Just like a highrise
stuck in place

The old gray station wagon

 The old gray station wagon
Bane of my life
The stench of sweat and drying algae
Hands unpack the contents then reach for beers

By the time it's empty it's time to fill it again
A plan forms and mouths sing
A keyboard comes out and people give in
appealing to the anxiety in their souls

The gray station wagon
Is diry and the battery is treacherous
The backseats are lying flat to allow more room
Someone sleeps there now hangover due in a few hours

What a mess it is sidewalk is full of the gear
indifference and laziness
good singing voiced
prospering alcohilism

Mountain aimed

 Make me feel undeserving

The giant within
across the valley blue

Climbing back up and praising my world from the eleventh
All along every edge and ridge tone of mantiquer

Dawn allows me to engage my passion
destroy my chains
The minimalism of the apartment redeems mind

My descendents are in the glass
Make me see every part of the day
I am a million times more real

Appeared and concentrated

Concrete holds me
Sky emboldens me

This is my world
this is my world

Apartment 209

 The apartment was on the eleventh floor
Clean smooth carpet, wine we will never touch
Promise of everlasting views and slow dusks
MMm those slow dusks

Saxophone obeys and letters form words that go insane
Big view of the mountains enough to make me faint
Seeking the blue clouds dragged off

The smell of fresh fabric Painting the future from where I sat
Door man smiles million dollar teeth pleasant artifical I need that

False formal edges of the city cure me I dare you
Maybe I can get enough crude comfort too
reclining on the balcony oxytocin stew

Semblance of the normal suits and dresses
Saxophone blasts me alive but deaf
Some semblance of obscured figures walking forward

Into the eye of my imagination, give me the best
To lullaby me while gin tonic lays on the chair rest
Solitude talks me into it, lay back deep sun salve salve!

I came to the city with nothing
Changed the record for a few tracks
But ill leave with nothing
But the burdens on my back

Nothing but smirk and charm
keys to the eleventh and a local farm
Where giants stay up nights to dream
Then sleep and slip deeper unperplexed
Like slow mindnumbing lushious sex

Eternally burning until it becomes blood
Until it powers the battery to the building's power
Wakes me to destiny, makes my chest hair flower
soft fabrics to hands, provoking all glands
Soft skin to tongue

undisturbed dreams sleep throws
Big landscape shaped windows
Invited to live again all senses honed
More lives than a blue zone

More luxury than the modern throne
Eternally burning like those street lights below
Where pedestrains look up and get a glimpse

Steel and rock sculptures the rest of the art so flimsy
neverending spirit popping in and out of these walls
Coloring these words this sophistication calls

So far from from my original ink
never hooked into my thinking
Podering turns me out like a trick
A choreographer that falls and pretends to sit

My mind scales the rest of the building up to the twentieth
My invitation to live between my teeth the pirate cutlass agrees
Open one of those top floor windows tomfoolery
 and bathe in the thick upholstery

But feel the beat of a small city in the vein
blue unseen red on the mean street signs
Painting the brain in this apartment I call mine

 this new place 209

Request granted in the universe

 The thing yet to manifest

Pile of genetic ingredients lumped together post excitement

across a universe a little glitch so that i can have my way

under the covers of these taut legs inviting me without needing words

love I took as soon as permission was granted

aliveness for months to come, then for a lifetime never to forget

Upsizing is downsizing

 Burned the gas
The fire rose
An addict for the fresh
everything grows

Burned the fat away
Sweat blesses
The road intact
The way of life

Forward with fire
coal loads to embers
An engine roar
Smiles radiates 

Into zone five

 There are five zones inside heart
inside each zone
Inside zone two and three
It is easy to maintain a rhythm

In zone four
There is difficulty
But it's easier to gain stamina there

Zone five doesn't keep the rhythm
But teaches you how to know your limit

Reach your limit
Imagining there would be more
complicated feelings sap your strength

The world doesn't owe us mercy
so every now and then zones 1 to five
get flooded with sickly pain

And what does life demand from us
Rhythm and stamina
And soon as we fall short
 they stick the knives in 

I always thought I could make it
Into zone five
World calling into remind me to stop

But the world will be there tomorrow to knock me down
So I'll just continue to push through
every zone to know I have no limits

Please God 
No heart attacks today

Husbandry

 Otaki spreads over
Stands next to the old caravan
Next to the brick wall of the house
Showing his yard

Pebbles on the driveway
Leaves on the hedge
squints across eyes and brow
Roof eave relief

Michael nodds toward the river
behind his house
Every corner of man's existence
The holder of dreams

The shed full of tools
The covered area, bikes and lawn mowers
Hidden from the rain

Low stakes repetition

 Expand then implode
Slowly overload
repeat in cycles
Never trying to get to know
The repetition
That hides in your psyche
The routine is sandpaper with a dumbell attached

The reoccuring thoughts slip back into the same turning wheel
Hitting monday, accelerating and heating up the week
Same predictable arguments circling round
Same sense of lost progress or missed adventure
Same low stakes game of emotions
Expanding and imploding
Slowly overloading

Mortal elements

 The pain somewhere far back
Trust broken or a species of betrayal
It's like seeing the portrait from a far
Then peeking in close and realizing

Someone inside the brushstrokes was injured
One of those long overpowering injuries
That takes decades to heal
Maybe that person deserves more

The men that framed it were hated
And perhaps those who happen upon it
Staring at it's anthropomorphic nature
It's mesmerizing feminine hostility

As the color fade let it and it's evocative corporeal figues heal
A slow long cure that contrasts with the aggressive needs 
Of a fast chaotic fomo filled present
Where atention buys more than money

To ashes with my own interpretations
Maybe this piece of art will go on to value more in the future
Or maybe it will see zero value in anyone
I refuse to be the critic

Fuel ridicule

 A leaf of relief
getting on getting on

Childlike somewhere nearing thirty
but I keep imagining

Fueling the ridicule
Shattering my confidence

Keeping me where I am
Who should know better

I should
The older one

The leaf dries and burns
scorn in those eyes

The streets are quiet
gravity sets in

nothing seems to bounce anymore

Gumball creditor

 The gumball machine is full

take a quarter stick it in the slot

Listen to the coin register and fall in

then turn the cap and watch the gum ball come out

In the big globe you try to figure out

Where the sweet disappeared from

Eyes search, the little red balls aren't talking

The bulb keeps you dumbfounded gawking

You put it in your mouth and chew

The dry parts wrinkle up then soak saliva

The sugary flavor peels off and radiates

You smile and forget where the ball was hiding

pull another quarter out of the pocket

Metal to the slot nothing to stop it

How gumshoes ostracize

 They split into groups
Measures and loupes

They knew it all
Photos on a wall

All the smartest
detective artists

For me twas just a blank surface
I just made them nervous

They would hunt the killer
I found the whole thing thrilling

And follow the clues
Look for what was true

I would try to be included
Without imposing rudely

If only they'd let me be part
I couldn't get my start

For they cut me off
Told me to get lost

They silenced me
Did as they pleased

And they searched and searched
Their mission cursed

Communicating with each other
Comforting one another

with ridiculous opinions
Unable to truly listen

I followed them room to room
Where so many met their doom

How can I make myself seen 
How they pose and boast and preen

Sleuths looking for this illusive killer
No witness left alive to spill it

Their self satisfied smiles as they study a new clue
Yet it's back to the drawing board anew

I tried to intervene and again I am thrown out
Showing them solutions to their doubts

So I watch from a far, the edge of the forest
Where I always was, the pariah the pest

On a badly dug mound silty and shoddy
where I buried all of those bloody bodies

Sesmaria

 He chews those ants and scorpions
Big heads and fangs no care
Forraging underground lairs
Long tree rooted roads
Sprints before the sun bears
Before commute coach loads
Before dew hisses blow
or frost melt flows

He runs after the escapers
The groups hiking between peaks
In the grandest green chasm of the valley
With their little sacks, hope, they sneak
Yet my dog comes sprinting their track
He bites into an achilles and the scarpers
Their journey slowed with no way back

I instruct the bandeira to powder arcabuz
My dog comes back a man's blood on his snout
Grins on the faces reflected in sharp terçados
Will I take it all with my hound clout
My incompetent rowdy bloodthirsty band
Total victory is measured plain and bland
I claim Sesmaria,
My land loving soul demands

The way is smooth

 The way to live the day is smooth
Lie flat on carpark tarmac
Lick the air tan the tongue
On this singing winter sun

The way to live is suave God how and oh!
Its treking the roads kneading the dough
Readying it for a good pounding
Baking a dozen or rounding

The way to do it is aroma
Long hours of sniffing the freshness
Ecstacy in soft voices patient ears
Oh and no queues, no fears

This is the way to live and prosper
even if I am just a commoner
I Make of it null, I'll still want to jump and sing
It's the only place I've ever felt like a king

Croton's and their flutes

Croton bore hardened sons.
Calluses ran across their hands,
Warfare bred into their spirit.
They worked the land as farmers
And fought the war as soldiers;
Croton gave them life,
And Crotoniates they were.

When faced with the pomp of the enemy,
They sheathed their swords, raised no shields,
And left their spears on the ground.
For Croton had looked into Sybaris,
Learning of its excesses and extravagance.

So, instead of weapons on the battlefield,
They brought forth flutes and played.
The Sybarite horses danced instead of charged,
And in the havoc, the hedonists were purged.
Their way of luxury was extinguished,
The vestiges of their city scorched.

All that remained was the tragedy—
Of flutes sharper than swords,
Of dancing, dying horses.

---

Homework itemized

 Did you get your homework?
letters, markers and word labels.
Organize and take it to the table.
rack your brain now, margerine.

Did you get your homework?
Open the book, little check stickers.
Understand a percent.
Test in an hour, nutcracker.

Did you get it done?
The weight of the grade.
expectations gain inflation.
The years work pre cremation, peanuts.

It arrived inside an envelope.
You opened it like a present.
But it was obligation.
burning your hands.

Once inside Sybaris mall

 Once I got into the mall, how, I will not say. I walked around the grand shops and their stately gargantuan atriums. The outside was pure palatial swank, the inside pure opulence.

 Hired young people dressed in perfumed orange uniforms came walking up to me.
Their approach was courteous and kind and yet they would start guiding without permission. I went a long with it and pretended it was like a free tour. Their perfume was intoxicating.

I could see people mostly from the rich class prancing about.
Tiny dogs like colorfully dressed rats shivering at the cold internal breeze.
The words coming from my guide all dressed in orange didn't sink in. My mind wanted to create it's own narrative.
I had given the guide the slip and now I was in an incredible gift store.
It was replete with everey curious sort of dinky antique made to look modern.
Enthusiastic conversations bounced off every aisle.

Over illuminated shops with bodycare products boasted aged and overweight women and their even more overweight husbands as customers. It was like watching an aquarium. And as they moved through the aisles it was mindblowing, how their furcoats were not dragging items off their perches.

Meanwhile in the giftstore. Short young men with curly pony tails and black jackets would take pieces off the shelf and narrate their story. But they weren't from history. They were from politically correct films that were rewrites of history sold as fiction.
I loved the gusto. The less culturally or intellectually inclined were the taller almost athletic but still awkward late teens with their full body tats and their first attempts at letting a beard go straight to wisp.
They were just the audience.

Hilarious as it was and as common as it was, I needed to move on, I could smell faint perfume and several mall guide's dressed in orange were approaching.

I looked out and never asked myself as I surveyed each odd crowd, that maybe those few that looked back, thought the sight of me to be one of quite the freak indeed. 

Three pimps and an air duct

 Three pimps sat on the rock wall. They also wanted into the giant luxury mall, but the main entrance was charging too much.
They had items to buy.

Out front there were queues of rich people who were slowly being let in. The three pimps had a map of the mall.
They were searching the outside for an in.

The day was hot and their big coats were sweating them out. I would have teased them
But they looked frustrated and were definitely armed.
I just followed their movements to see if they found their entry.

They walked by another entry, but were refused. I hid behind a tree close by to hear that it was an entrance for the LGBT community only. I waited for one of the pimps to change gestures.
But instead all three started arguing with the guards.

Eventually they all got impatient and continued on. I wasn't ashamed I went before the guards and pretended. But they didn't buy it. One of them was half convinced, but there was a sign behind them that proof on documents was necessary.

They said -Move off we get your kind here everyday. pretending to be something you are not, to get into somewhere you don't belong. 
I looked up the hill where the sun was hitting an aluminium shape. An air duct.

The last of the pimps was crawling in. Conveniently I was distracting this point of entry, as they surreptitiously sneaked in.
Now I'd have to wait for someone else to try their luck at this entry, because the duct was exposed.

Memory and the blue slip

 Imagine losing all agency
all the mind's faculties
becoming blank and useless to the world
Your agenda mixed up

Important meetings on paper
You have now lost
You sit there and wonder
what you should really be doing

What day is it you say out loud
Panic rising
Where's the blue slip with my appointments
You hurriedly check your house

Finally you find it
Just to see you are late for the first one
You get into your car try to remember the way
your hand wanders the passenger seat for the blue slip

It's gone

The secret entrance to the mall

 To get back into hype hotel
You must Lift up the wire
Open the slat on the stairwell
Put it all down again

Sounds easy
you get a leg though
Then you are stuck
A couple turn up 

Both are telling you to go faster
You don't quite fit
The guy who went before 
well he was slimmer

You are so desperate to get back in there
You force your body through
A small piece of wire stabs your leg
You are stuck up to your hips

and all you want to do is be seen there
To buy things and to experience the luxury
But you are trapped in this blocked off stairwell
With two annoying people's voices telling you

You did it wrong

Homesick sauce

 Gerard came out
Aniseed liqour a new kind of talk
None of the sensing feeling
Just the popular sentiment of the day

A shot of something with some water
Blurry lime
Half sincere
but just an escape

Homesickness behind the eyes
Food came late
None of that exotic panache
Just a saucy bowl

Some loud mouths
at the table ahead of us
Orange hair and body tattoos
Quotes from legendary rockstars

Thick sticky cliches that spurt awkwardly
From the overhappy mouth
The excited hearty laughter
Talking themselves into meal

The french man looks on and says to himself
My work here is done
As the kitchen works at snail pace
he pours himself another aperitiff

Complains that its a luck of the draw
That he can't ship them in
Or build a queue
He's the only one waiting

Flood lights walk

 The flood lights soaked into the thickness

Light slipping down the lampost choked cat

Scrambling dogs 

long shadows of spindley branches

radiated out in the drippy floodlight

Pick up the rock

moonlight inked

Dank pudding air

Brushing over skin

I get swamped and smoothed over

I trust the compounded shade

Where my eyes cannot adapt

Therefore I just trust

For away from the floodlight

The night blinds you

Parallel street trees cover it up

Quiet except for stubborn cicadas

Post a note into the late pms

Sunset long gone

Long flat unreal surfaces

Where curtains of the day are pulled