anchor

Give me your eyes till you neck breaks like a rope is itching around it

itchin' like this pantyhose thin and taunt on my thick girl thighs

cause my mouth can only say this once maybe twice before it's tired.

We are not condemned in bubbles of time and space as we spark

forward or backward, whichever we choose, to a better world to come

in a better world to come, hand in hand, little atoms in the bustle of life.

It's just all this living that gets in life's way and your billowing breath

blunt teeth and words, we will grasp and nurse every minute of it

under lit advertisements, with our feeble fetus hands and wobbly hearts.

sweltering summer

my anger burns cadillac red
tendions protruding bridges
escape maps, flesh highways
endless sliding wrists
steering us lost, floating
like aerial beats
till trees flash mosaic
stabbing sunshine
wet windows with
that hot summer rain
and my face with its tears.

Pretty

"I think you got a pretty smile." he says
and I think that's pretty true, still
action potential sweeps down axons,
chemicals breakdown to elements
found in cupcakes and trees outside
cells build up walls thick, paint layers
every tenants has left a print, and this guy's
it's got a brownish hint, stomach turning,
I'd rather be happy than pretty today
but genetics, and this guy, gave me no say.

meeting indecision and opposition at every turn

chunks of thoughts melt like butter
disipate, in the hot plate of space
concepts of time insulate my head
waffling back and forth mind tennis
i guess i'll make pancakes instead.

Memorial Day 2013

Four years ago you frolicked in water fights
held purring kittens to your chest
and marveled at starless nights, city lights
passage unfolded our complex history mess.

You slung pistol men across your hips,
but we learned semen doesn't fill self-esteem
you said it to me, through perfect teeth, trembling lips
divorced wisdom, "Marriage is about being a team."

Closing your eyes, as we passed under bridges,
"That's where they place the bombs, explosions;
sometimes my eyes open and just see sand ridges.
You know, I don't like to talk about these emotions."

Laid out on fresh baby graves we talked,
life, death, love, the world and our view
with bright-eyes, drunk baby cheeks we marked
stones with names of people we never knew.

Four years ago, you were my best friend
and after all this time, your death, nothing's changed
through your love, I grow and mend
despite as with all time, your body fades

Twelve

"Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these Steps, we tried to
carry this message to alcoholics, and to practice these principles in all our
affairs."


Live lightly, my pidgeon
your little soul, baby bird ego
hardens to egg-shell heart
as samsara sunrise peeks
voyuer, into nirvana noon
and no one knows
this is easier said
than done
but us.

Four

"Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves"


My soul is sick, the way the sea is sick,
vomiting sins like dead fish in red tide,
baking thick in the air, till I don't even know
if I'm hungry for more or just really gone.

People are my pillars and my prisons,
I stand on their heads till the neck breaks
and yell because this has to not be my fault
then chain to them till we can't move and just die.

Grief, though real, was cried in grandiose acts,
scheduled only half of the time for my audience
which applauded in pity which I bathed in forever,
pores still wafting the scent of my egomania pitfall.

This sexually manipulative tornado of body
rampaged through homes,  not blinking evil eyes
as marriage beds seams tore, fluffy white bedding
my lungs trumpeting howling winds of reveling fury.

And lastly, for my life's greatest childish riot,
this peculiar twist of mind, destroyed all three heart beats
of past, present, and future, all pumping blood in time,
so I could daydream, briefly, I was human after all.