The leash follows your explorations
I keep my thumb on the button
I’ll bag your shit
For my neighbors
You feel free and safe
We limp along
Two bullets at the bar
Patriots under duress
Hollywood guilt
Outside the body
Boys find their purpose
Playing guns like guitars
Piece of wood
A Samari sword
At what age can I start judging?
To save a life
How big do I have to be?
How important
To me
Has been through so much
Frozen and thawed frozen and thawed
I am starting to nap
The next ice storm sends my body into hibernation
The birds need so much
They eat fast
Leave their broken shells beneath the feeder
So much time looking for the ones that dropped
Winter has no time to mourn
No time to consider gender or spirit
There is one sun for every winter
Excuse me, sir?
You left something
Right there on the bench
Next to me.
Marks on the launch pad.
How many suffer
For a flower to grow?
“We burn them to ashes
And then we burn the ashes.”
We learn so much from fire.
Everything burns the same
Beautiful and bright.
Everyone in the room knows
When it’s on.
A million tiny tongues
All going at once.
Do they taste anything?
“If I could lick my own balls
I might never date again.”
Fire changes things
With one quick click flicker
Forever.
The gaze of a father
Turns the skin to Silly Puddy.
We forge weapons
During commercials
Hack away
At the hanging bags of Jello.
The fire is in us.
We feel entitled to write books
To burn.
If I were inventing a word
Pre keyboads
To make people happy
It would have two p’s
next to each other
and maybe a y
Day after day
The sad beauty.
Watching the little girl
Ooze out of you
I need to decided which one I like.
No I don’t.
Every day every look every word.
Every moment wasted
Tanks filled, sitting.
Beautiful works of art collecting
Dust in warehouses.
Transfers of power.
Not even ink on paper
Fleeting bursts of energy
Obligitorily touched
By expendable employees
The dream informs the nightmare
Every abuse is a snowflake
Sometimes we lie
When we tell the truth
What if the Morning Pages
Are the poem?
These old feelings
Like books
And grand sailing ships,
Clear windows of glass
To new worlds,
Now something different,
Heavy
Chains around the neck
Running through sand
Disguising the path
Inspire by the masochism
To totally different worlds
All good
Escaping a nightmare
Moments before a
Collision with a
Telephone pole
Driving
I see a cat collide
With a moving car
Not mine
It writhes in the street
A boy and his father turn
Away
I am fully awake
I drive by
Early buds
En route en route
Working with greatness
Requires great patience
Your bones must be hollow to fly
Something bigger than all of this
Like hunting the rarest of all things
Willing to take our lashes
Bunker down in wet socks
Peek through the cracks
Cup our fingers over our mouths
And blow on them for warmth
We hear breathing
Padded mallots bring us closer
To the truth than our original protocal
Something deeper
Than the mutual deceptions
The body rises and falls
with the breath.
We are the breath
The easy speakers
We translate the barks and the chirps
The undersides of leaves
Beef Jerky Clouds 