He approached me like a bulldozer.
I remembered the Entheon.
Like infertile possibilities swimming backward,
giving up and taking out
everything in its path.
A harmony seeks to mend
but falls short in little pockets
of broken souls
who tangled the light
into a bruised knot
of a slow suicide
bomb.
Take me away
to a river
where nothing but birds
sing me to sleep.
I was a spider
hanging upside down
gazing into the ceiling fan
spinning.
Have you ever crawled up to the window of your eyes?
Do you know what it’s like to die?
Have you ever flown through the night sky?
Can you see what I’m trying to imply?
Have the years just passed you by?
Do you cringe when others lie?
I know you know, but do you try?
I won’t be seeing you on the other side.
There’s a reason
why I listen
to Ali Akbar Khan
until it’s dawn.
I pulled it out of my puzzle box
and tasted it
bitter and beautiful
just to see the moon shine
again.
I’ll be brewing tea
all day tomorrow
pondering what move to make next
on the chess board of my soul.
How could it have come to this?
I can’t believe my eyes.
It will never be so simple
again.
We embrace
each other
and the moment
because we can.
I could click New Post
and let my fingers dance to Bonobo
after a few beers
and think of you,
my spinning clay,
who wants to move her own way.
I could insufflate the crystalline phenethylamine
that beckons me from the dark drawer
and sit outside and watch our stars
swirl their pastel dreams
until the damn sunrise
and sleep all day
just to pass the time
so I could write about it
after spilling myself
and our potential
all over your back.
I could live for whatever reason seems most right
as its fleeting like our lives
into something else,
something blurry,
something beautiful.
I could pick up my guitar and shred
to reveal a smile
that my father gave to me.
I could close my eyes
one last time
and it wouldn’t even matter who I was
or who was around
like a drop of water
falling into the sea.
I can’t deny what you do to me.
I turn the music up louder.
I let the ethanol bind to the GABA and metabolize.
I gather knots and undo them in the only true sun
from the inside out.
Anything could be said.
Anything could be done.
There is something whispering my name
into my ear.
Something keeping me
in check.
Even as the Earth begins to burn again-
We hold hands and dance around the fire
clock-wise.
I walked up to the house along the meadow cautiously
not sure if it was the right one or not
and met an old man on the porch shaking involuntarily from age
who gave me a cardboard box
full of Dungeness crab shells
that washed up on Manresa
perfectly intact,
some still with dehydrated eyes,
but most just with holes
where they once lurked a weird window.
With every thought
and every shiver,
growing what looks like
personality.
Metabolizing biosynthesized matter
at a frequency adjusted
for the star walkers spectrum.
Usnea sways in warm tea
like some kind of seaweed.
Without these stories
coiled into a dance
there would just be
these timeless all encompassing
parameters.
Nothing is ever empty
or far
and no one is ever
alone.
Will these seeds sprout along the window sill
next season?
Will this tether supersede,
or will it disconnect?
Sometimes the last straw stowaway escape hatches,
while the rest,
a perpetual love making
that knows no limit
set by the chain reaction.
I almost didn’t make the train
but I fought my way
thru a test tube
of infertility
to write this.
