Reflective // Property

Middle // Minimal

Amazing // Race

Dos // Rojas

Leggo // Eggo

(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.

Long // Run

Local train; long run.

Slippery slope disappear

near the weeping willows.

Sleeping inside the riverside rowboat.

Hide and seek speak to me in

worried whispers the world waits for

her savior.

The box said no one else can leave.

Backwards seat sing along

Beautiful blunders, force fed fall

over the edge into predictable plummet

Surreptitious sunshine slips in and blushes

when reproached by the

horde of lumen-starved insignificants.

Lining the shores seeking the rain

we hunt and peck and

rabble rabble rabble.

Follow through the open door

check out and slip away

Reanimate to escape the elastic people

Vocal chords tied to tongue and grasping for goodness.

6 // 7

6 continents, 7's too many. 

Forethought frontier hopping hoping for meltdown. Dingy sounds slide from vinyl in solitary confinement where the lines meet. Brittle bones ring out cacophany while the winter slips in underfoot. Alarms, slowing pace, curious looks filling a napping void. Dreamy eyes search the skies for answers in clouds and various shades of blue, blurred vision anticipates the stop. Manifested occurances inside the blink of time. How do you sleep so readily, sinking inside- do you not come to me energized and free? Day has broken and burned off, leaving room for more.

Heavyset eyelashes on cramped eyelids. Halfassed attemp to flee the city swimming in vexation and virility. Monochromatic moments mimic the jungle rough and tumble.

(Cry, the Beloved Country)

An autonomous chill sneaks up and sedates the swaying leaves into retreating into metamorphosis triggering nostalgia and nuisance. Shiny screws in a dirty window pane diffuse and delay the lingering light as it too secedes to a solemn sigh. Resignation rolls around my mouth but in due process is swallowed in anticipation.


At the bottom there is no escape.

Parisian streets, Portuguese feet sink into the long stretch. Countdown to deadline. Slide right by. Riots and raves, fireworks and faves. Linear vocalization in order to calm the masses. Heal with light, feed with space. Heed the cry of the beloved country. 


Train tales tinker tinker blink. X-Y axis yeilds high. Memorialize and feast on occular optimization. Open those eyes sweet song time travel.


Neon no you beter gogogo. Hair whisps and sweaty palms seems strong after so long. Flashback fall forward shake shake glow. Hip thrust who you trust now that the man is gone backwards flip. Feisty face pout past your bedtime alram clock hip hop hop. Time ticking space bomb raw raw seesaw tip it top it taste cheap shot. Talk a lot