shameless

it's those
snake skin hips
and the
corrosive blood baths
that send us
struggling
coughing
smoking
into the hazy past
to find a time
tonight
at last
let's drink
for wealth
for beauty
for honour
that shall prevail.

next door:
let's drink
to suicide
to open eyes
to birds and bees
to fantasies.

smoke stacks

shadows centered
in fatigue
like a pillar
a high up pillar
made of ice
good night and good bye
and i wish you hadn't told me
because now i lie
too boldly
i claim it doesn't bother me at all
when really
i'm dying of jealousy inside
hate the body
hate the face
hate the people
hate the name
everything that
she was born with
blew away like ashes
but she's rooted to the ground
and i can't move an inch
and i can't grow an inch
feed me
free me
need me
see me
i am just a tree.

cry moderation

you understand
that i conform
to the walls
stuck in my room
alone
staring at
the damn computer screen.

and without you
i could relate
to love
to reason
to hate
to fate
to be
to see
to realize
that i see my ghosts
in your eyes.

my iv drip and me

with eyes so wide
they reflect the sunrise
in blue
like you
in my
explosive state of mind
you blink
three times
wash away
my sunrise
and throw
the blanket
off
bodies
warm and touching
like
single souls
and gems
in rings of
singing

tornadoes.

doll face

pills
and cheap thrills
and advil stained hands
with stolen completion
of eight marching bands
could you stay
for a bit
in the rain
for a trick
for a doll
it's a call
from the
single minded side of me
fake eyelashes
and your
glowing embers
and i confess:
you are a terrible dinner guest.

tombstones

i've got my stutters
and you've got my lies
doesn't it sound
fantastic
tonight?
screaming
like tonsils
stuck in the
snow
there's nothing but
heart ache
in november's soul.
his house
is empty
of leaves
and of
sweat
oh, so she
takes a
biglongshortthroatydeepcoldsaltystingy
breath!
and begins her
speech
to the gravest audience
you'll ever find
it's called
regret.

today
i have a book bag
inside the book bag
i have several
very
important
newspaper articles.

woven words

open up your pores
like doors
like floors
when i stand here
tried alive
limbs fall like sparrows
out of
wooden skies
(it's part of life)
him:
a representation
of my
shingled roof
and a carefully draped ceiling.

welcome home:
back to your
disaster area.