Before Bed, a Poem Came

Before bed, a poem came

Decidedly mine

Written, slipped

beneath the silk cover

Unable to close my eyes again,

I dug myself out of the weighted wool

to peak out the window,

To see the summit laying snowside to my sleepless endure

By the Time You Said Hello

By the time you said hello,

I was gone.

Mucking my way through,

a fruit fly not far behind

the narrowing of my eye.

My love held between

a fly mask,

And as I travelled

the moon met me,

over the washed meadow

where weeds sat unplucked.

I turned around knowing

you’d still be there

waiting, wishing my heart was indifferent,

negotiable, shapeless

to the same truth that led me here.

I feared the trail,

the going so alone,

but the alternative felt

like a greater abandoning—

the horseshoe left behind.

Liberation is Subjective

Falconry 

               Plushing 

Untenured 

                 Ladle lipped soft

Hardening felt

                  Despondant 

Taxonomy 

                  Pirouette 

Frock 

           Slips

                   From my collars      

                              My boned vacancy 

                                              Truancy of soul

                                                           Abandonment beckoning

 Pardoned              condoled

                 Summer 

                      Is 

almost                          here

 Yet I am unwarmed by the idea

Wild Berry Zyn

Wild berry Zyn

Because that’s all they had

And that’s fine

I got an aftermath peppermint patty in my pocket

Shit, I’d suck a toe nail dry

If it means I’ll get a buzz

I’ll suck the polish off the pinky

Let the top coat leave and the pink go warped

Like the growth between her legs

I’ll suck that dry too

Take back the juice I bottled

I’ll suck my babies right out of this world

Do them right

I do right by my kids

Let them never see the light

Or the next president

And their saliva dripping combover

Just be bald

It’s brave

Not bold

But brave

Like the man who orders branzino on the bone

Not because he likes it, but because he’s Sicilian

And ain’t about to punk out his people

This wild berry Zyn taste like codeine

Spidering down my system

The fastest way for a drug to hit,

Besides blowing out a vein

And while I prefer the intravenous way

I’ll take it between the gums—

Let the gout go dry

I Go to the Andes

I go to the Andes

              To seek my reprisal 

                        Over God

                   Yama-no-Kami

Primordial of truths 

                                  Many 

                                   Seek

                                    All

               Die

             Along 

          The plains

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