Fistfuls of teething,
 hot and wet like sand, 
a mocking curse, screeching 
and grinding over one another, 
flooding through windows and baseboards, 
cascading over chandeliers and 
down hallways, clashing and clattering
chattering like the frosty duels of rutting
 November bucks
filling me up, burning hot
like a drill from dentists' days

skewered and chewed
caught and crushed
a mor...

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acute mania: when life doesn't sit quite well with you, for no apparent reason and with no reasonable discourse. When every impatient chair prick you with pieces of glass. When the animals in your brain tells you to pluck a bird because you're hungry (no matter how much you've had to eat) -- it tells you
pluck, pluck, pluck

youre starving 
pluck pluck pluck
youre itching, you're BURNING
PLU...

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the night's frost on my brow
sews my skin shut
away and invulnerable
from the warmth of your touch

shipped like an ice block 
across the country
to be gawked at in faires and
on display at museums and
the most I could hope for now
is that you'll be the one to curate me;
you'll be the one to sing at my euology.

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bring me to my knees.
bleeding believers into the breeze
collapsed into relapse
folded, end over end
like hot glass in a toffee machine
desperate to be something new, 
but coming out the same.

a mess. 
a cheap amalgamate.
a glossy something stuffed with something
leaning toward forever
hoping someone finds meaning
looking closer than I care to
closer than my design intended.

a ca...

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ive spent a great deal of my life chasing love, trying to find it and fold it and catch it like sand 
but there's no promise that it can spend the night.

love has a lot of stops to make to night, at a million miles an hour. The only sure way to keep it around is to be wreckless and unconditional with your own, which is something -- fortunately enough -- that i latently do. it's something that,...

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I'll never die
heroes never die
does that make me a hero? 
or am I just 
alive

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with ancestral murals carved into your back
The Thousand: living off their borrowed breath
sprint to Hades, quick as skeletons
no flight, no fight, no fear, no death.

 there are some ideas bigger than your name
and i pray that i may dissolve to such strength
every day, itching this splitting shell
pulsing, painfully, in time 
with the hearts of those slain before me
and those who will s...

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 Love comes easy, but it doesn't really go away after that. No matter how many times you hammer it down, lock it away, drown it, or excise it with home surgery, you always seem to find it somewhere. Growing in the dark little corners of your mind, where you want it least and need it most. It'll pop your stitches for you, rebreak old bones. It's there and there's not much for it, so you can choose ...

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Sleep cut up
into neat little lines
taken, but not as prescribed
I prefer mine all at once;
I prefer to overdose on dreaming.

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Take in those gulps
Those long, patient breaths. 
the shuddering, creaking reminders,
flowing through empty halls
carrying with it
a salted, stinging brine
called retribution;
exaltation thru exhalation.

a hush
a loosening of eyelids tightly shut
running blood, piping hot
thru cooler humors, once stung
by memory, we are a mercy
to ourselves, forgetful fools
benign, in the burning f...

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'you never write me back in the cold and sober howling winds of daylight, where you're in danger of being seen. you never write me when your form cannot bleed into the formless, rooting in, burrowed deep into the ground, wrapping ahold of me tight, feeling rather than seeing -- much unlike this stark and starchy daylight living. You only write when we re both tasting death by the precarious and cu...

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duplicitous: insidious
commandments devils left with us
freedom of rebellion in speech, walk and thought
spur and silence fellow hellions with our own hell wrought

wrung wine from winged pixies and amputees alike
pickled brine of the dreams of moonmen holding a knife
home surgery, red baron caught too close to outer space
we didn't like his scowl so we rearranged his face

honor bound, ...

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coal cliffs cold crest on oceans deeper than the storm
begging mercies on a fevered brow, desperate to get warm

clinging to the rocks like moss where shallow lichen grows
thin by hunger and stiff by pain, stacking markers row by row

pale as you, chameleon, searching onwards through the howl
sleepless circles sharpen your eyes as hunger makes the owl

we stamped out the steel a hundred t...

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Bleary-eyed
I swallow teeth in a whiskey glass
locking eyes, silvery in the gloom
across the table, -- every table
of every cliche'd home adorned with Him
this plastic, fluid spectre
what blocks my view of another side
a world, I imagine, identical
in every way, if only perverse in subtle defect
noticed only up close
too close

such is the abjectivity of horror
a numb spike of excitem...

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'why do you do this to yourself?'

a question to which my reply 
has and might always be 
anaphylaxis

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what is is to dangle from a cliff
expectant of a fall only to be let down easy
descent lasting for decades
into a pool of novocaine

the ropeburn from holding on
the impression of my nails
holding tight enough to lose feeling
convincing my hands of their use
balled up against each other
balled up into myself

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>Day one, I am not doing very well. My international trip was cancelled because money. So I have 2 grand and 2 weeks. going to go look at living in a hotel. Take a break from everything.
>I was wondering if you still have those screws of mine.

A break is going to be exactly what you deserve - try and rest up, take it easy.
Screws?

>Yeah, shiro. 
>tekkonkinkreet

Aaaaaaaaaaah.
I miss yo...

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a small alarm of spark or touch,
radiant from the point of contact out.
a deepening stare, a plunge into forever
the floor falls

   away
                       away
                                            away


a mutual tunnel vision
fractionating a million times
in the gaze of one another
a kaleidoscopic feeling 
beneath the drip, the drag, the pooling smoke
of a thrill, peak...

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It's been a long that that it's been a long time. 

I write you from a hotel room, the terrible fleeting truth
that I am, in fact, unkillable.

That is not to say I cannot die
which I have so many times
ripped with the pain, shaken and broken beyond
the barrier where it no longer exists
and there exists only a pulse, growing louder and 
dissolving, harmonizing my form and lost heartbeat
...

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check in, check out
day-to-day to bear much clout
this whiskey wagon won't let me out

shield-grown moss; deep rooted fever
cure-all cabins mulched far to near
pennliess from toe to head
burned out one soul per daily bread

I hope to buy myself home soon
sold seashell's worth sand on every dune
doomed beaches' surgeons' catacombs
slate-shim rattles into iron bones

still'd by wary st...

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simultaneous gratitude and spite
a train of string, spit and rite
moving mountains with slow cookers
chasing, dry-mouthed and parched
silent shadows of the desert

'why did you make me this way?'
questions tongued to a sky so far
high and indifferent
storms churning on to seed greener pastures
eyes glass, floating and searching
seeing everything but finding nothing
but the Titanic, lid...

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when death finds me I should hope that it is only once, or at least as few times as possible. In my wake I leave a legacy of multicolored actions, a mosaic as imperfect as I have been. My measure is not in my greatness, nor is it my morality, but instead the wreckless pursuits of empathy most often built in spite of myself, last minute and at great expense.'

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Catch me like a chill,
your gaze like lightning rods in my chest
Washing over against indifferent rocks
Your siren song has killed our best

The price of sleep paralysis is the weight of a ghost
same as the rain, quenching the hot bite of lightning 
tonguing, forked, speaking fear in thunder
breaking and rebuilding trust
in a crescendo of lust
eaves outside of my window, dripping dreams ...

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 'no.'
a murmur like a quivering addict watching his hands betray him yet again, alarmed, yet defeated, knowing the wet skin of life will soon be itched clean beneath the mercy of a second hand needle

This will be my sixth death: a coward, a traitor, and a father of three. 

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all I've ever wanted was the impossible.
We come from a species that bends the rays of impossibility
through the lens of our will and our means
to begin life in the corporeal world.

. Yet here I dream; yet here I writhe.

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 A crushed and cracked lead weight, pendulous, tracing the indefinite
suspended in a cage of hollowed, hallowed bones
creaking sockets and brackets , set and reset
desolate
bent, but unbroken
suffering under the manilla skies
of an afterlife, plotted in stakes
white and wooden.
in stakes white and wooden
as we forsake flight we shouldn't.

i am unmedicated
i am unmarked
what a strange...

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I have coins burning holes where my eyes should be 
Why does it smell like pine and earth? 
A slip, a lapse; a siren called, I guess
to sell me death for what it's worth.

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bleak
where everything I feel 
comes round to drink itself to death
I am free and yet
My knees are still weak

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red tipped
fevered with a caffeine drip
Pistolemy, 
the name from how they'd stolen me 
Chipped-tooth'd
burning sickness on the roof
you call it awake, you call it livin
syrupy-thick revenge
shark fin soup's swimming, forbidden
horroscape of trying to get away
too slow to breathe 
begging " not today, not today"

but assimilation came for you 
blinder bodies underfoot
you know you c...

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Biting toothpicks
idle as can be
splinters building bows of ships
reburied in a desert
end over end, again and again
worn smoother, blacker
than obsidian.
After all,
storms are the arbiters of change
symbols in dreams
sand, sea, and stars alike.

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Heaven is a that listlessness
a restlessness
creaking misspent christmases
sneaking waxy floorboards
a minute to midnight
the same old song rolled over your tongue
effervescent, but colorless
inoffensive sinlessness

Heaven is next year's vacation
taking time to pay off credit card debt
dusting off those silver medals and
deciding that contentment is fine
and a sterile marriage is bet...

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I am an indentation where the vein belonged
I am a collapse of greatness, pride, and vanity
I am as empty as what remains 
I come for you without a name
because I insist to take yours

and so it was 
at the height of the depths
swallow'd
into the bitter waters of apathy

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The news today:

People die.
Weather happens
Cigarettes are an allegory for the guilt one feels for being self indulgent
in any way whatsoever
that one may or may not deserve
People love sports, and are scared of tomorrow 
there's always a deal on chicken somewhere
and I still love you.

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it loves you, too
though I'm sure I've said it before
and it was more special the first time.

you've got a face that goes with most weather 
though my blood feels heavier when it's raining
so maybe that's why the rain
loves you more

weighted down, fevered
against my bedsheets
sometimes that's where your face stamps me
in the middle of the night
branded and searing
to the tune of pi...

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men made
by the fragile flesh of grapes 
crushed into wine
thick as divorce
and consum'd just as haughtily

for science and slaughter
the cadavers we weren't done with yet.

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a traitor of a thousand miles, i'll hold you in my shoe
push'd into my heels, step by step
those memories of black and blue
though time heels all wounds, it doesn't unbreak bones
chatter'd open in the breeze and brine
hanging like a laugh, swinging
alien on a face so tragic
painted with mascara, running toward gravity
running toward the sea
sprinting and tumbling and drowning
the wet san...

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hammered out;
pings and clangs, deflating form and
memory, leaving
withered, cracked
quenched and wracked
pushed to cartage destined for greener pastures
the place hitchikers come from
cutting deeper switchbacks
lost along the way, arriving here
to bellow and forge the truth

'ship it back -- ' tearlids salty and true, 
a biting brine of ground molars;
a sleeplessness 
'for god's sak...

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thru the barrows
and hell's own head
past winters where the tulips shed
smiling anthers, sickly sweet
thru tired eyes and tired feet

metted out loosestrife piles of letters
tossed each by each down forever
Wells as deep as Orion's weather
thirsting for all things unrequited
purpose lost but not respited.

how much meter for a stamp?
one what transcends death's garden woes?
spared of...

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soft waves breaking at ankle height
I could stand here a millennia
buried in the ebb of the Atlantic
eyes shut in starlight
a tourist to the shipwrecks 
that I've made to feel like home

sink like titans
relics recycled and burned
churned inward, twisted steel
molten and flash-cooled into islands
black, shining, bare
clean again, beaches of shedded
shredded, split history
in another ...

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x
when I could feel her apprehension about her midriff,
Id have her walk up to me, cradle her hips
and rest my forehead on where her ribcage ends,
sinking in between the movement of her breath and breast
as she soothed the scars where the barcode used to be,
feathering nails at the nape of my neck
x
those scars and stretch marks id kiss better
x
as we'd both shudder, creak, and moan soft...

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climbing, catapulting tremors
shaken dandruff, daily bread
sung down the road in tenor
cry'n out to rest your weeping head

tho' no echo return'd onto your spake
rolls of fog, kings and carrion, alike
no glass to shatter-- no roars to shake
no lonesome heads to rest your pike

loose panic-stricken thoughts therein
'does my crusade here come to rest?
have I deceived myself insane? 
has...

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a bad habit of forgetting
about bad habits besetting
one atop the other
a chain of me, making me
breaking me, oh mother, please
quench this fevered brow
soaked and running of this stainless steel
a torture table of my own design
the forgotten artisan era of my life
It's funny, its funny (hahaha)
this severed little threads you follow
chase-tied nooses, aspirin pills you swallow 
(but t...

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And as I ran, as I kept running, I noticed that the wave that had crested over the hill was made of deeper and deeper water. Every time I look forward, the beach seemed longer, so I would try to run closer to the outside edge of the rocks. I looked back, and the water was getting closer, deeper, more powerful in its white spray -- a swirling, leaping, downwards pull that, if it didn't drown me, wo...

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You know that scene in Mulholland Drive where that chick is masturbating desperately while weeping inconsolably? Here on planet February, my life feels a lot like that.

That scene disturbs me because it is the most earnest physical manifestation of how I genuinely feel

Having trouble separating love and sexuality, seeking shallow tactile comforts, abusing the same feedback loop, yielding onl...

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the day, the night, it was raining brass
simple, smoking shells
scorching those smooth-skinned memories
burning the cheeks of lovers
smoothing the potholes of the lane
filling freshly dug graves
but still somehow bouncing off indifferent umbrellas.
'This is just our life now.'

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On days where I'm tired and don't know better, I think about married life, far away from here. There's a soft, warm spot in my head where I leave at sunrise, come home at sunset to hot chicken sandwiches, cold beer, soft kisses on the porch. Cool, clean sheets. Things so far away that I question if I've drifted into the daydreams of someone else.

 

Maybe I've lost that chance. Maybe I'm tire...

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ARMIES OF THE USED
SEWN UP AND ABUSED
STRANGLEHOLD THE AIR SUPPLY
KILL EM ALL AND GET YOU HIGH
BURN UP THE ATMOSPHERE WITH SMOKE
DARKENED CLOUDS OF RIVAL CHOKE
INHALED IN CUBIC LITRES
BRIBES WE PAY OFF, MEASURE THE METERS
OF CANCER SAWN OFF AND RENAMED CHILDREN
A MARCH OF BLUE-OIL SPARKS: PAVILIONS
MAIM'D CHEER MASSES BY THE MILLIONS
EYES IDLED ON YOUR HANDS, INITIATE 
EXECUTE ALL OF T...

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cannonball canonicals
bird-house bursaries
chainlink monocles
buyin' into hi-life miseries

clipp'd the righteous and the rained
puddles and piles, congregating
for warmth in the gutters, and love in the drain

the family that you got to choose
after yours failed, fell apart
chose not to pick you
the runts of the litter
malformed, defects 
judged by smoothskin automatons
I'd rather ...

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Eros
a letter bearer
a memorial burier
graveshift digger,
sobbing for solace
muzzled, but crying out
characters carved in fingernail

caricatures recycled, resewn
(pretending that you've never known)

dug up and cleaned up
pastels painted over
and over
bright and brighter colors yet
to pour over tired, faded earthen tones
rewritten unrecognizeable:
and rewritten
and rewritten
pl...

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sometimes I just wake up crying for no reason. in trying to understand why, it just makes it worse. I'm sure I know exactly why, and my subconscious wants me to leave it alone before I can give it form and words to let it move into my conscious mind. this is the worst thing about anyone the universal psychosomatic lying to ones self as one might pretend to not remember the blackout dru...

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