Charge

October 27, 2017

I am a static charge
thoughtless
eager
and uncontrolled.
Charging through my
cells
habits
and vitriol.

Advertisements

Overboard

October 27, 2017

Crushing depth
Black— no light.
Empty— no life.
Sink freely here
there’s no one to interrupt,
and the silt is soft.


Tongues

October 26, 2017
I am electric shaking		and speaking endlessly--
			Terrible habit			that.
The spindle of my mind		spins so fast
			I can hardly keep		up.
What did I tell her		what did I say?
			A bundle of arms and elbows	and nerves.
I could have said anything	at all.
			But I know I didn't say		nothing.
	

Ghost Ride the Whip

August 18, 2017

White and red
like the blood and the bread,
with these three nails
You gave in to death,
and now,
we just cope.

I don’t need the body
but I’ll gladly take the wine
and I’ll drink until it’s fine.
With the shame You supplied,
weaponized,
and refined

I cant tell if i’ve died,
but it matters less
and less all the time.

Jesus, take the wheel
and I’ll just close my eyes,
I probably shouldn’t be driving
but You can’t take me alive.

Blame this road’s crooked lines
as they merge and divide,
I find poison and rhyme
because I’m guilty all the time,
and I know,
‘we just cope.’

Well, there’s headlights ahead
would you please let this end
with steel and cement.
I believe! I repent!
I let go,

take me home.

I cant tell if i’ve died
but it matters less
and less all the time.

So, Jesus, take the wheel
and I’ll just close my eyes
and pray we’re alone on the road tonight,
because You won’t take me alive.


Black Wings

July 19, 2017

There’s a God who’s abandoned us
To his lovers’ open scorn,
Their closets brim with shadows
Whose wings are torn.
Because no one asks to be born —
We just hope the crows understand us
When we toss them a bit of corn.


Jonne and Ysa

June 10, 2017

I wakened in darkness — complete, cold darkness. But I wasn’t alone, I was never alone.

This couldn’t be the end and yet it wasn’t the beginning, either. I was somewhere else in the familiar feedback loop.

I opened my mind up to her, “Jonne, you know we can’t keep doing this,” she rebuffed me.

She was waking up, too. I flinched as I felt her mind stab into mine yet, after the initial shock of otherness I welcomed her in and she spread through my body like cold water. I was nothing and she was all. I breathe, you breathe.

We had spent the whole night entangled again. It was now still dark, but it was that early morning darkness laden with promises and cool gray tension. Dressed only in secrets and a shared inability to speak, we instinctively moved into the kitchen to find something to eat

Triangular light split the room.

“Do you like strawberries?” I ventured, only mildly interested in the contents of the open refrigerator.

The cooled air seemed to pour out onto the floor and wrap around my ankles where there was a small scar on the top of my left foot. I got it when I was twelve after climbing a tree in a neighbor’s yard and then falling out of it on my way back down. I broke a few metatarsals and so my father The Valiant Personal Injury Lawyer had the neighbor for everything he was worth on negligence and I got some bone screws. The purple scar has curved with time, and now it tightened just a tiny bit more than the skin around it in the cold. As I was contemplating the circumstances of the injury she caught me off guard with an honest question: Do you need me?

I couldn’t answer, I could never answer that. To give the truth is to accept it and for us that meant to die. I breathe, you breathe.

“No, Ysa. I don’t need you and you are free to leave.”

She didn’t buy it, of course, and she turned away from me moving quietly back to the bedroom. That tiny, heated room where we conjured our mistakes and miscommunications; where we consummated our lone purpose over and over again; where the only witnesses were lampshades and window sills; where we lie among the tapestries and stylish knick-knacks upon expensive linen sheets — sweat gleaming on our brows — wishing we were someone else somewhere else.

I followed her eagerly.

Let’s lay the torch to all of this.” It was not a suggestion and I was not able to decline.

“I need you.”

I know.

I’ve always known.

I breathe, you breathe.


Don’t Worry, It Has a Happy Ending

February 15, 2017

We’d sing until our throats burst
raw and breaking,
with every fucking chorus
we’d sweat,
we’d breathe in each other’s exhaled curses
and every vaporized
word tasted like catharsis.

We’re still using this —
We’re still walking with our holy crutches
after breaking windows with our feet
and throwing bricks
into the street.

Yet
Even as we promised not to take any of this seriously
we killed everyone involved.

As the walls crumbled under our fingernails
and we danced through the conversations
we managed to lose ourselves in the disfiguring,
“we hurt, yes, but never others”
we console each other.
It’s ok.

It’s never okay.
It’s never fine.
It’s never us.
We say.

In the end we were just a pile of ruptured concrete
under a parking lot
for a Costco.
Our lies married our dreams
under the floor
of the frozen food
aisle.