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writings


Drift


You were on one side
I was on the other, you fought till they let you through
You cursed them, you flipped them off
You would drift and appear at just the moment
The elevator would present that smile words were
Nothing
Your smile
Was like white horses dancing in hay
Nothing made sense the buildings were safety
They watched our back
They were comforting giants in the sadness and confusion but
We were not sad, were we, we tried to overcome the
Where are you,
We were together lost, no we were everlasting opposites
All was within our limits all was taken to another
Place did not matter
I know you are there, but where are you
The world is not this place, all is gone, the sacrifice
Why are things nothingness where’s the
Begin to dread the next
I can only sit and do nothing my dear I can
The others left the others
We were still unbreakable in this denial
I denied
I lost the battle, I can’t see the tomorrows, I can break all that is
Around
This is an endless struggle and I have always been at the bottom
I have pushed endless cargoes, the ice has
Thawed and is starting to freeze
I tried to roll it up hills
You tried to carry it on your back
The river was a deciding factor
Maybe not
That is why you where in my corner
That’s why you tried
But the last sounds have at last
Have disappeared
The time for waiting has stopped
The ice has thawed and is starting to freeze




Un Named


You deal in thick liquor
Your fingernails trace the back
Of a bull you are feeding
You hide
As a Comstock you buy out
Their minds kick about debris
You become red and frolic
In your patience your lapels smell
Of an old bar stool
You make friends by identifying
Their weakness a keg of oak
A poison mattress
A melting mind field
Congealed and sensitive like a sore brain


A drunken robe
The musty smoke
A sail
An anchor
Burnt binoculars
Lava islands the heat
Of a cold stare
You are a superficial saint and a separatist
By understanding you spread death equally
And eclipse
The orange sun and cast pathetic images
A barbarian
A brooding organist
A back bending socialist
Crisp sediment and crunchy pinecones crack
Of a razor strap caressed spoiled
And sharpened to a needles resting place
A sheet
Instructions
How to build a bird’s tree
From bone
A harp caught undressing
Un digesting your eyes
Messaging fear
Intangible runaway explosion
Spell silent ears
Drop a loop


A Brief moment
Means wrap a wrist
Comfort a clod
Rip a rasp arrest
A convoluted way
To execute an introduction to a May fly
Reject Mother Nature
A splendid soup of
Spoiled fruit and vinegar sugar
In clouds rained
Rocks the mirror of a rejected impression
A fancy bowl of salt and sweet bitterness the continuous
Cell of a concluded hell
Perseverance
Allowance
Clergy in a halftrack
Black sticky rolls in a basket of
Dead rats and blue flutes they shuffle
Down a brick path under
The smell of a snifter
Of glue they followed you to a hole
There’re stuck stocking the earth’s fire
You live off of canned
Misfortune brittle bubbles from dehydrated
Pop and dissolved pills
The others
Set free a flying kite
And are selfless
That is your enemy.




Dirt Road


I ‘am tired of flying
The lying and smooth wisdom
Sad like
A rotten plum
I see a pattern beneath
It’s as if it’s missing some teeth
Telling kids they are dumb
The beating drum
The place where you’re suppose to run
The practicality
Of a spoon
A newly painted room
That you buy
That you choke with a tie


The wisdom and the dim
The recycled chatter
That knows what the matter is
It knows little
Its foundation is brittle
I ‘am everywhere
Spread out too thin
I can fly
I see seas drowning all over me
What are these clothes?
Which shall go next?
Which is the best?


I can’t say as though I like the North Pole
That’s not a sea
That’s a disappointment
That’s not Antarctica
That’s too far to go
Too much water to row
There’s not much snow
The poles let things spin too freely
They should have some restraint
Did this place pay its dues?
Did it wipe off its shoes?


Don’t let her buy a rooster
Don’t let her wear fake blue fur
They are only for show on a farm
What’s the harm of dead land?
I’d rather rack sand and
Kick at it all the time
Fall in it with my eyes open
And be blind
Sand goes wear it pleases
Dirt only makes you sneeze


I like trees, but a beach is omnipotent
It is hell bent on independence
A damn farm relies on a fence
It thinks it’s self sufficient
But there’s a consequence for having seasons
You have to be on the alert
You have to wear a shirt and talk to God
A beach expects nothing
It never thinks about the crops
It doesn’t line up in a box
A row
With no place to go
And slaughter


There’s nothing a beach can produce
It can’t take shape
There’s nothing it can make
But it doesn’t ask you for a meal and shoes
You’re not a horse


A farm has to dig
It has to appease a pig,
A beach can’t hear what it’s told
It’s blindly bold and sterile,
A farm has to be flat
A beach can crawl like a cat
It can be lazy
Like a welcome mat


Up and down hills
Sand can say farewell
And disappear under its self
Under what it is,


Farms have to grow
To be continually cut down
To lie level with the ground
Sand makes no sound
But crops cry.



Birds


Candle lit blowing
Flowing wondering around
Humming like a dizzy
Electric bird windy nest
Barely unbreakable
Barely unreasonable
Like a comb in your hair
A dead stop
A pest in your car
A bug on your arm


The bleached sea
The sand on your fingers
The stones in the ocean
Relaxing with lazy fish
You grew up there but
The forest knows you better
They know who you are
Who you were
Nothings blind


What’s the reason for experiments
If yellow and blue always make green
A brass candle stick on top of
A broken bottle opener


A forest for you
And you’re meandering
The branches left broken
The displaced left to morn the path
Too wide to recognize
It became something else
A temporary haven
A dirty beach around a small pond
A drink to calmly sip on
A light blue blanket to lie down on amongst rubble
That security has gone
The air has shifted
The birds are stuck


The shadow of a hill moving out of your way
You were fire reaching through the trees
Like fingers across my head
Then you were gone
No
Nothing left not even
Wine no champagne being put away in a cellar
Just
Headaches and cheap medicine for a bum
No table waiting in a crowd to please
No starched white napkin to pamper
It was smooth
You were smooth
You felt like you could talk your way out of
Anything
You were exhausted
You were imploding
Everywhere I went
I was exhausted
Anything snuffed out went out
You were a giant in the ashes


The soot cascades in a valley
Big enough for you
And I feel like I am always waiting
To burn down like the rest.



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