Ninety // Five

Economical engineering stalks the skyline leaving a rickety tick symphony to sing with the birds. Tender timber tags along, awkwardly standing at constant attention. All eyes fixed in the grey-blue nimbus oblivion outside the edge of our motor coach aquarium ache with anticipation of the falling sun. Elbow Room beside Bel-Air, Track & Turf tempt road-sick rebels to feast as foreign fodder for housewives' floggers. City-hopping, hustlin' the road for time and protection to ensure immediately delivery. Skyline's signals flicker in a tonality texturizing the atmosphere, alluding to cooresponding intersections in a two-dimensional grid. Molehills seem like mountains backed up against the ticky-tacky shacks for their Things. Momma peaks beneath the drifts, relishing a little r&r from the blithering masses and the itch of them against her skin. Empty loading docks birth useless rigs, cranes hoist hopes which have become heavier than the emptied consumeristic cargo. Cephalopodic arms stretching thin, grasping green hills and chasing dreams across the sloping horizon, binge on beliefs and birthday cake- starving cities and suffocating synergistic symbiosis. Skylight warms her hands in sunset's wash and prepares the giants to ride the night sky, all a-twinkle to transpose danger to high-flying trapeze artists. Landing-launch pad for escapists to entertain epiphanous calls to eloquent epistles; coffins for the disease of want stack side-by-the-hundreds-side.

Snapshots // Intentions

Snapshots of snapshots,
are these pictures anymore a
documentation of me, or a
parallel life
somewhere through the looking glass.


Little hands, little feet,
sunshine in glorious giggles.
Lost locations imprint soulshine with a
savored idiosyncratic intention.


Descent from one shell to the
next as
skin is shed and left for the
insects to ingest.


Transmutational metamorphosis, the
aphids take out the trash.
Another version of the truth is
born, and with weak knees, embraced
if only to seem less of a stranger than
the girl before her.


Built in the factory,
recycle and renew.
Fractious is fissured with
animosity. Melancholy moves in,
echoing in between the
poorly sewn-in polestar.

Sizzle // Fizzle

Slip into something Satie, slide in between the shades' shadows as the reprieve from the storm grants us one last wish. Hungry felines feast on my toes too tender to try and tempt.

And just like that severe sinks into flash.

Sizzle

fizzle and

follow me under the overhang to

gorge on the heat exchange.

Soft redivivus rumble

symphonius synch of heart

and head

and hands.

Within your speech is a

literal touch

a tremble a tickle of

fiber and being and

beyond that the silence it leaves behind is austere and taciturn.

Physiological philosophies peak and prick at my skin- begging for exoneration.....

Complicated coordination inept at delivering definition deepens my needs.

Vapors // Divisions

Supposed you hadn't run from your cowardice, flung like a rat into the night to search out your survival. Supposed I hadn't come after you in my bravery, and certainly suffice to say I’ve made a journey based on foolish games of the heart. I've yielded again to her intricacies and her desires, only to be left on the side of the road to wander through the carcasses of the wildflowers. 

The utter vastness of this place reminds you of how far there is to run, how she can allude you to believe you can push yourself to the outer corners of the world without crowding out another species, but ‘tis not true my little rodent. Wild and restless is the ache in your heart and in reality what is it you so desperately seek? Ruminate with me on the possibilities of inertia for one second and come back down to the field and the flies and the preserved rot in this place. Lay and watch the clouds migrate and mutate, and recognize your ability to shape shift and sneak outside of yourself. 

I, however, populate this field alone. You are not to be found. I suppose you have lifted yourself above this place, and joined in the clouds’ ever present parade, anomalous and vaporous. As soon as your shape slides into remote tangibility, the haze slides through the sky and again you have dissipated, like a sigh, or a drop of desire fleeing mine eye. Apprehension of action muddles my original intent. In fact, that intent is but a vague breath, a shiver down my spine, a last note ringing through the hall. The goosebumps having faded already, I forget the shiver that sent them in the first place. 

I shed my skin and sink down to watch the ants march on. Bygone's aqueous kiss forms like sentimental exhalations of the acquiescent, moving along the sky like sails on the wind.