What It's like to Fall

Eaves lead the weary in depths like the ocean
gently tilting up-side-down under the white eye
poking through the mid-twilight, supine, arms crisscrossed,
staid, like an opiate father time contained in a grandfather clock,
with whiskers that resemble clouds, apriori feathers glancing
into astronomers minds as moons circulate interwoven with
masked resolutions.


All his life he dreamed there was something,
but the nothing presides…

What It's like to Fall

Eaves lead the weary in depths like the ocean
gently tilting up-side-down under the white eye
poking through the mid-twilight, supine, arms crisscrossed,
staid, like an opiate father time contained in a grandfather clock,
with whiskers that resemble clouds, apriori feathers glancing
into astronomers minds as moons circulate interwoven with
masked resolutions.


All his life he dreamed there was something,
but the nothing presides…

Relapse

Render it obsolete, since those feelings,
they are fleeting. Don’t you see?
We can’t build sand castle’s out of fire, nor
fuel an engine with sweat.
No, it isn’t you who stirs my heart
glowing fluorescently.

X-rays reveal a tumor lodged deep within my brain.
It pulls and tugs and plays
each day the way it reaches cells
and turns them into clay.

I am blind. Waking once then lethargically withering
between different legs. I’m a zombie seeking brains, but
finding dense loud-mouths that like the way it sounds when
they imagine all is ok. Living among screens and speaking simple
so not to arose suspicion from the intellectual pumas ready to pounce
on those insignificant fools who act thespian yet read one sentence phrases
and write in crayon. I can’t let myself talk in nonsense and laugh at jesters who
dress in pressed one pieces to impress
the way-eyed beautify longing for that
American symphony chord in A-minor
discordant with the tone of children’s voices
who absently smile crookedly at the damage
in the pupils of those major add-ults since
they notice more pain in the movement of
their arms than a subjective I can see in
the whole world as it spins on a half-eaten
dandelion being ready to blow it to pieces
until eventually the summers’ gale perspires
among the prancing girls twirling their dresses
to the somba ringing in their ears, rather, it
may seem right to open doors for strangers, yet
one is only a stranger till they speak, so speak
please, speak to me before the respirator flat-lines
into a single chorus.

I have honored the gods who made us free,
so we can shot me into oblivion, if I’m not there yet.

Lights on the Boardwalk look like grenades

Panels of wood at your bare feet,
lean your head back,
hair falls like a maple mirage.
Lips are moist rivers,
eyes almond moons,
flickers off the shore,
no foot prints on the surface of your body.
Smooth skin wrapped in silk robes.
Horned beast giggle,
street lamps dim,
grass murmurs,
gentle kiss.

Clouds hang from their ankles.
Space combusts figments of thought.
Hands clasp and churn to the crickets’ chorus.

Shovels heave into your chest,
seeking your heart.
It is buried underneath languid remorse.

Half-naked smile on a cold night.
Smirk, off the face, reminds you,
turn the oven off before you burn.
Bodies are inflammable
when doused with pain.

Birds at sea sing songs of death

Swooping over the pacific under the radar.
Lone wolf, signaling a pink coast under a midnight sky.
Water is the coffin, stars are the witness, and the sun grieves.
Feathers perspire like petals, whipping downward in a
vortex of church choirs, praising the lord
in blue overalls who bats lobsters
with machetes while punching
their wives till their blood paints the deck
with a warm afternoon glow.
Like a red giant exploding in the sky.
Pieces pollinate the places you traveled once drunk.
Can’t remember faces, only
tidbits of info written on your arm.
But, it sounds familiar,
that woman’s voice who screams as you splash
mountains of sand above
an innocent town.
Birds live for themselves
since sympathy is much better
than loss.

Fiends, Friends, or Fools

Tree bark tastes like licorice
when sprinkled with guile.

Hello friend!
Please, sit down on my back.
I take oceans and stars to lunch
for you.
I dress in diagonal lines and parallel robes
for you.
I drink hemlock in 2 dollar wine cans
for you.
I laugh and cry and laugh and cry.
for you.

Wind brings another breathe
when inhaled with a vacuum.

Hello friend!
Please, crush my very soul
in the soles of your feet.
Mere dirt collected from grass
and helpless lobster shells
from the times, remember?
When we both giggled like school kids,
bottles rockets burst ear drums,
shattering,
crashing,
spewing black dust in my eyes.
I hide the red veins crocked on my pupils.
You never liked it when I cried.
You made me cry.
You make me cry.
O, but it was all a jest.
Right?
The glass that cuts my feet in the sand,
you put it there,
didn’t you?
I thought I saw you,
that day,
in the bush shooting me with sniper rounds from afar.
You laugh as you stab me in the front.
I don’t get the joke,
since it is on me.
About me. It is all about me.

Aliens Attack Arizona

They land in some four-wheeled auto-mechanism.
Speaking multiply dialects of another world,
Their faces are rough and burned,

I hear they are from lands surrounded by sand.
Living somewhere south,
for I have never heard of any-such-thing.

Some swarm the borders like wasps.
Colliding and consuming and dawdling.
Carriers of other lives.

I see myself in their brown eyes,
But it must be an illusion.
Their terrestrial tricks.

They grab all they can.
Work and eat and live and work and eat and live.
They are like mules asking for no wage.

No wonder they like it here.
Here their hands find grip and scratch and scrap.
But, they leave nothing and take everything.

I have built this fortress for us, not them.
Who are they you ask?
Why aliens of course, can’t you see?

White barriers now board their houses and futures and souls.
The aches and pains come from being separated from themselves.
But, this land was not built for all, didn’t you know?

We can’t accept their free wage, nor taxes, nor income.
They make too much prosperity and happiness must have a fee.
For this country and me and you, but not you

You are the ant that lifts more than you’re share,
for some worthless monarch who sits and eats and watches and laughs.
Why, we have run out of pesky peons to torture,

so why not you?