(Transit/ion)

Hop-skip-
         a train-
           and a bus
I'm in the gathered shape
              (now absent of a
                  once-anchored Virgin.)


Mount my high-horse, and
disappear into the Rabbithole
        Jolted back into the lockbox where
lights sneak in through cracks to
alert to an overall general awareness.


At length, most of what most-often occurs 
          feels as though most
             anything that happens is
             something that just
snaps and cracks,
always on the sneak attack
banishing confidence, who
always arrives much belated.


By then it is all a dirty dream I've forgotten to photograph...


I've a wicked lil' mood
writhing just beneath the surface
waiting
   to bate your breath in
   momentary notes of mischief
found outside the melancholy.


Race like rising strings to the streets,
slap ass streak, rushing in and out
eyeing sliding doors as a safehaven from
anything outside elevation.


Sighs and sunken fingertip to flesh,
fossilize second and day.


Seated
    slipping backward feel like
Ridiculous rewind-
   an end scene in a mechanized set
on-set soliloquy to shout of
(or taste) the moonlight.


Silence has lost its
last innocence in
prolonged incubation.
supposed purposes throw
smoke-screen escapes,
reinventing reality
one pre-fab at a time.

Waiting // Line

Waiting line wash out weakens willingness to withstand an abbreviated wisdom. Shy particles of sound fall from your lips like snowflakes each perfect and unparalleled. But they fall with such weight and evaporate in our heat instantly, leaving me three seasons hence in significant silence.


Do leaves not fall as such leaving underfoot a symphony of percussive perfection, or the soft swoosh of the seeds that dance and twirl in the air? Oh! That you were able to perennially perform for me the delicacies of acknowledgable adulation instead of the absence administered.

Wrestling to clear myself of sticky cobweb austerity and surface to squirm in my stance so sequestered. Shine solemnity within my swept up memory and release me from propriety. Dance foresight, lead me to leap from ledges, at risk of the fabled fall.

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.

Doe-Eyed // Dogma

Hurtling homeward hastened by the heavy hanging of my heart. Resignation once ruled but renovation removed the residues of related history.
More and more as I mediate and the malevolent tendencies mix in with misunderstood madness, my mind gets tied up and twisted, telling tales, talking truth tinged with delicious delusion. Split decision delayed- delinquent really. Days and ideas have displaced decisive action.


Dutifully doe-eyed and descriptive, dogma, dew, and discussions of delicacies push through decay. Slideshows, and a sloth-like systemic suspicion slink under my skin. Savant-like speed read of signals and simple smiles.


Slide over and slip under with me.

(Backflip)

1600 some odd past.

2000 plus present.

Fast forward

Settle the score.

Make me weep

Help me sleep

Cruel to be kind

Flip it back

Force rewind

Jet blue skies

Thunder rise

Lightening strikes twice

Surface temp rise to

Swim in the skies.

Muse mis-use.

Sway and swallow whole.

Fit me in force me out.

Settle on selection

So that the rest can

Forward fast and

Rewind force.

Backflip.

self portraits.

Subversive - I