in the light

pretend you have two options

there's death and his band of outcasts
riding steely hogs and yelling into the night

and then there're
gentle lambs on their best behavior
the farmer is hungry
he will always be hungry

or you could
find refuge in the lesser known places
the ever closing gap of a lover's folds
twilight in spring on the eastern side
of newly blossomed apple tree

there are better places to be than in the light

Strangers

I followed these strangers to the strangest places
there was much sleeping
a few beaten forms left to perspire

here the heat is nothing to joke about

imagine the coastal regions dry
oceans evenly evaporated
and all those skeletons
all those things that used to be

I'm going to make a list of all things i'll miss
fresh seashells pulled ashore
sand drifting from toes
the way sins are washed away

i'm going to board

in an attempt to find the source
i went back to the place of departure
found the black cat tracks
though foolish and harrowing
were the funniest thing you said all week

I'm going to board now
i'm going to find that lost place
where small hided fiends
toast marshmallows with starry nights
careful, i'll say

a burn isn't as bad as it seems

a million identities stored

i'm going to take the best parts
seal them indiscriminately
in a finely worded letter

golden ink
with crimson edges

one day we will no longer see
the aborted whimseys of radical youths
we will see advancement and
a familiar chair rocking
each of us to sleep

through the rain

I'm desperate to find a way through this
there are obstacles
burning tires stacked
ghosts armed
with intimate memories
and all i want
all i really really want
is to arrive at a time
when rain drops fall
from candy colored clouds
we will know
where we are going
is where we want to be

a poem to read a loved one before sleep

I once heard the only way to see ghosts
was in the rain
something about oil and water
except, their skins
are not oil
only something like it

a lovely night out

there's a notice that reminds us:
TAKE ALL DAYS AS LASTS
we're young and visit brothels
and we don't like to think
about death




a taken for granted doorway
opens up to a romantic mystery
carrying poached ivory canes
we pretend to have limps




if i were to organize my life
i'd use a venn diagram
unattainable
you'd be on the left

he regrets only
not being exposed
vulnerable
haphazardly peeled and strewn
where prospectors take dividends
wire balances to offshore holdings
leave intricate messages with teenage doorman

it's really brutal to realize
a window in the the spring
will eventually bring
sweat to your brow
or worse
black to your tips
where we stay in bed thinking

if only we had the foresight
to walk backwards through time

About Last Night

If you really look closely
you'll only see exhaustion

God takes liberties with the speed of light

there's dew on the stem of a rusted umbrella
we funnel into bottles
we have learned we have wasted

the black night reluctantly gives
to the orange glow of dawn

I hope you enjoyed it.

congratulations on overcoming the best part of life.

a night out with a hint of green

at night mice hang around this bakery
they pick morsels of faith
from the limboed souls clinging
to rays of scattered light
crossing between planes



think about this
the light you promised me
was a million years old
the star long since collapsed
supernovaed, blackholed



at times where interjections are needed
i place cairns discretely beneath the earth
so archeologists working in light
will one day rebuild our faults

if time were cyclical

i'd return
to the best parts
pick them clean
clear away the dust

If time is cyclical
we are immortals
and our bodies would be worms
or we could exist as a point
imagine the perfection of always
holding that eye contact
(after the deaths of everyone)
and the eternal brush of your timid hand

time to start again

i've come to the realization that as i've convinced myself that i am no longer a poet, i've ceased to be anything more than a darwinian bag. It's time to rectify this, to return to my chest, and remember that "the world bothers to be so outstandingly, intricately, and breathtakingly beautiful."