[Untitled] (Names are welcomed.)

Place the dotted X's on my eyelids
in the form of candle wax.
Make it lavender.
Coat my fingertips with Morphine
and I will paint your name
in the lining of my cheeks.

An enormous Aurora Borealis
lies in the fibers
of these follicles of straw.
They rise erect,
delegating the shimmering dust
of imperial gardens and remembered kings
along the shoulders of this flannel.
Wise men gather on the crown of this cranium,
joined by only the worthy of countrymen,
and witness the courtship of galaxies,
a symphony of starshine.

Ironically I can no longer smell the cinnamon.
This armoire holds my seams in place.
I am pressed for time in this burlap.
I stitched on a smirk for this day,
when you would find the attic,
far too late for latency and lackings
but in perfect punctuality
for my second venture.

Would you sit opposite me on the drywood
and roll back and forth the resonance
of our former vibrancy?
Toss me ladders and waterfalls,
bowling pins and hoops of magma,
Lob the tragedies over your shoulder.
Finally, slide me your dagger.
I will swallow the denunciations of the pasture,
and make an incision from collar bone
to belt buckle,
and plunge wrist-deep into a carcass of cotton.
Such black and deceitful irony.

Well up, dear firefly.
Yes, let the throat coarse with warmth,
for there is that in your despair.
Divulge a raindrop or two,
but I beg of you,
Capture the majestic deliverance above my forehead
and release me,
so that I may consume the supernovas
or evaporate into the ethos of Rhetoric.
The lights and colors
that waltz in my hair
will never leave your subconscious.
You have my word

Eruption

Charcoaled coral encrusts the walls
Of a cavern long forgotten.
Slick surfaces, Tarnished cores,
Spouting purple jaded sunbeams
Across the canvass,
A shade of tangerine.

The levels are rising.
As she climbs with haste
With the roaring commotion
Beneath her ankles,
She imagines the release of
Succumbing to the ascension,
Relinquishing her fate to the current,
Carried by the tides to cast her droplets
Along the lining of the easel,
Lulled by the low roar of the eruption.

White Noise, Cluster Cycles

Deafened Ears settle on empty cries.
There is a chunk of serene
on the other side of this rope bridge.
Sarah's clawing up the sea rocks
fighting for her love songs.

The yellow-faced smiley pins
on Jacob's side-bag bleed bruise blue
out of their dotted eyes.
The lashes on his conscience
would put 1860 through a lot of embarrassment.
His head is a broken trash compactor.

There isn't enough blood in their veins,
not enough fire in their forest,
not enough art in their design.
It's like that feeling when you punch the ocean
with all the fibers of your being
and realize for the first time
that there are no tidal waves.

They just want to jump

Nothing Notes

Come, Sister,
Fill my head with nothing notes.
Plant your static in the orchard
And douse the crop with cellophane.
Give Saturn something to weep for,
Charging the Nymphs and Lepers of His command
With the task of your destruction.
Let the Galleons synchronize their motion
To the buoyancy of this therapy.
Transcend Dimension.

In every 15 millimoments
lies a moment:
an instance with an assigned message
interweaving synapses
forming.
Megamoments.
Yes, that's right, Megamoments.
We've got some fucking monsters out there.
Anywhere from 15 seconds to 120 years,
They are ever expanding birthday party balloons
Or perfectly constructed bubbles.
They clear volcanoes and drown belugas,
Shatter atoms and split crystal.

You're spending far too much time painting portraits.
You've missed the skeleton entirely.
Take a canoe to the mouth
And drink from it's nectar.
Swing from the firesets and
Sing with the nightflies.
Your garden leaves me weary,
and I fear your nothing notes
and millimoments
may suffocate with me
in the cellophane.

Achilles

It seems that the reinforcements
Have arrived...
For I have taken a bat to the picket fences
And I've planted my seed all over YOUR front lawn....
I'm that kind of clown
That'll frown the fuck out of your security.
You can cake those eyelids sweetheart
But we're still not impressed.

As much as I profess the lions,
I dance with Achilles
In wake of my terrors
Lost to the presence of a heel.
I've got concrete dust rocks
Gathered on the floor of my pericardium.
Mind you, I may stab at your underbelly
Claw at your soft spots,
Lap up the spoils of your surrender,
But I rattle the gravel,
Wheezing heavy as my chest aches.
So very heavy.

Bloodshot

Have you ever stopped to marvel
At the sensation of bloodshot?
Inhaling the effervescent dust,
Bearing sandpaper nightgowns,
Slightly embellishing stiff cheek muscles.

It's a droning
I could fall for.

Is it truly pitiful
To seek a sober stupor?
I can drop empty visions
Into my piggy bank o' wonders
'Till the planets collide.

I just want to curl up in a
Callous cocoon,
Swim laps in the sahara,
Drop bombs on the cities.

I could melt into this like caramel.
I could dissolve in your stratosphere.

But tomorrow, I know,
We'll snort lifelines off the bedpost
And entangle in the vines
Until the night comes again,
Business as usual.

Just leave me with the record player
And don't you turn out the light.
Just a little longer.

I'll be out soon.

Forbidden Fruit

We dance a tango of whispers
a ballet of undertone
condemned by the web work,
shrouded in nervous grins
and bated breath.

But I would find no other majesty.
Her voice is my scripture.
She sees me in X-Ray
With a look that evaporates the demeanor.
Those electric eyes break stance,
Quiver muscle,
Tremble speech.

We're covered in secret, my dear,
Drenched in deception.
We're outnumbered, my love.
But when you look at me,
Smile at me with your ethereal glance,
I see nothing but starshine in this atmosphere.

So let the grey matter coagulate,
Let the lush leaves rust
Like charred sunset horizons,
Let Eden dissolve beneath my feet,
And I will descend into the haze,
Clutching my beloved apple.

Redemption Of A Salesman

Tonight, I started where it all began.
I reached inside,
removed the lungs from a little boy
and put them in my back pocket.

He knew it was coming.
He had sucked the purity
out of far too many necks,
and as much as I felt the need to carry him on my shoulders,
I knew I couldn't let the bastard live.

Midnight Frozen Fire
Rough Orange
Gleaming Windowpanes
Bleeding Skylines
Star Bright
Bitter Air
My Best Friend.
Yoshi, Tross, Lancelot.

Last Words.
"No matter how thick the clouds get, no matter
How fuzzy the screen is, you're RIGHT HERE."

He kissed goodbye the Sunshine Faces
and Rainbow Dancers,
Shook hands with Serenity's Sister,
Smiled at ME and my bloody right hand,
Rolled his eyes at The Irony,
and fell on his back,
Chest open,
smirk still resonant.

Ladies and Gentlemen,
I can breathe.
I can fucking breathe again.

Price Tags (Silver Chains)

I once championed silver chains
A clavicle wrought with
Measured pertinence.
Stitched price tags into my flesh
Bound loosely by peer affirmation.
The problem with price tags
And silver
Is that afflicted areas
Begin to rot.

Break this streak,
Draw me a finish line.
Suspend clarity in the horizon
Dangle lucid from a string
Attached to a stick
Attached to my forehead
I’ll sprint until the clock stops.

Or bestow me with a stopwatch.
How underestimated
Such infinite expansion
Never nothing noise
Further cluttering the alter
Silenced with a button.
Fathom the chance
To clench the reigns,

But not for long.
Unfocused lenses
Shed magnificent light.
Suffocated color
Broken beautiful
Is quest.
That burning
That rotten tomato sensation
Is mission.

I love you all.
Too much.

Broken Records

Silence Screams.

Dropped my bag in the parking lot
Laid on my left side,
Arms open, cheeks caked with gravel,
Palms drenched, a crimson
So sticky sweet,
Entranced by rubber tubes and
Stale golden orbs in the ink.

Fate, a wretched sage
With a beard made entirely of
Leather, rubber and glass
Crumpled you up into a paper ball
Within seconds,
While I,
I could remain here on the pavement
For weeks and live to see
A lifetime
Fall through the cracks.

I’ve been screaming your name
For well over four weeks now.
I’m beginning to think
You can’t even hear me.
So why desert these car tires,
The blood and the asphalt?

Switch fire mother desert bring me into eclipse
Take my desires and wishes
Send them through a grinder
Blaze the dust through a crack pipe
Walk me into your garden
Let me drink from your fountain
Eat your fruits
Tell me a story
Write words on my forehead
Outline them with macaroni noodles
And cigarettes.

Statues will quiver in my wake.
I am an ended journey,
A grenade dud,
An obsidian snowball,
Helter-skelter terracotta music box.
I breathe whispers.
I've tasted hurricanes,
But I feed on broken records.


Break it, mol-. Break it, mol-.
Break it, mol-. Break it, mol-

I’ll just admire the tin bastions
And how they ignore one another
On the bus.

I think I’ll take in the scenery
Just a little longer.