it would be far from the only bordersthat divide me from you. calloused fingers,rounding edges,you speak of me like some craftsman when the only craft i knowis the mad chase of ideasthe making of little pointless thingsthat still mean so much to mefor all the confidence and swaggeri’ve carried through work latelyas i’m sucked into …
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Untitled #165 (2015)
pluck the truths thensky-blue petals that flutter to barren ground somewhere i learned to hate my anxieties to be ashamed let them sit caught underfootslide into pavement crackswhere black ants …
Untitled #166 (2015)
and when the aphids bow ,lOvedo the ants applaud? i don’t presume to know your pantry,but i know my rations run lowand how shameful i feelthat all it would takeis a touch ofyouyouthe dapple of sunlight to your skini just want someone to …
Untitled #164 (2015)
i’ve fallen from the capitollet the government of the Ido as it will. i’m for the little things anyhowthose few moments of claritythe small truthsthat come in the late hoursthe early toopruned from flowered darknessplucked from buds too youngto bloom alonesachrine sap sliding stick alongtracing cherished chantsin a language i almost wish i didn’t know. …
Untitled #161 (2015)
low burndead-butt-smolderbeen without ideas for monthsall those dreams spent so easily‘n now i’m dreamlessendless used to be,used to be my dreams worth a dime at leastthen came that crash in the sleep-exchange,‘n we’ve been sittin’ on pennies now for yearsnot like anyone could have seenwe’d be dreamlessendlessbrokesovery soon. hear it rains them up in the …
Untitled #162 (2015)
i hold your hand for as long as sleep will let mebefore it pushes me beyond your touch. the mountain is talland this bucket ain’t lightbut it ain’tain’t rightto let you suckle whatever backwash streamsthe mountain gives off,when i’ve got these strong armsand a love of climbing. intemperatetouch
Untitled #160 (2015)
a starlit skyoff the well traveled trail,and if a star falls in the woodsand burns everything to the fucking grounddoes Smokey the Bear make a sound? or is he sitting against the redwood bark,lighting his Camel,savoring the taste of American Industry,American History,while the hundred year treesspread seedlings in the blaze? there was a thunderstorm tonight‘bout …
