i took the shape from the cloud and put it on my phone
i took the call from the bird and lost it in the street
i got the thrust from the wind and tossed it in a drawer
i took the life of a lamb and shat it out
i got time to be and sold it for a watch

i got a timepiece and

i measured the correctness of the shape
the rarity of the call
the reliability of the thrust
the pleasure from the lamb
the value of time


(in the style of aimee mann)

what a prisoner feels
it ain't wanderlust
no matter what the trial reveals
it's the chair, or bust,

whenever the right time was
to finally come clean
it wasn't worth the fuss
and without the means,

to lead the witness
or doctor the scene
they see a recidivist 
low down and mean,

in the game of crime,
you eked one win
(who's keeping score?)
called in the chaplain
to absolve your sin
(walk through the door)
we marked the time
when the lights went dim
(what was it for?)


couldn't sleep,
three nights now, 2am
dream of school again, or
cemetery, similar vibes

broken by the hushed
sirens outside,
urge to piss, and
god it's hot in here

subjugated and stupefied midday,
asserts its power at 2am
  imagination that tortures,
  analyses across time and space,
  pointless or destructive
  or destruction's the point?,
  painted hypotheticals,
  vividly self-evident,
  showy cartwheels,

an organ doing its thing,
not the soul, not
poetic, despite the poem
it creates of itself, awake

then, thankless and unseen,
eventual expansion into emptiness,
flush to the borderline
between consciousness
and -



i'm not that rust on the grate
i'm not that rot
with or without, i'm never Never
well, never say never;
never for now


the slow rush of winter surprises all,
birds into place,
the darkness down,
us farther from


sexual validation,
leveling up a video game character,
biases confirmed,
emotional vindication,
another glass,
another lie,
the softening emoji,
planning escape,
fantasies of
worthwhile fantasies,
constructing a ruin
to spec


the black year yawns to swallow
purpose in its death-like dreaming
and life flickers away on the breaths of
all who speak their truths



hands roots, eyes sky, mind wide
a thousand miles an hour in naked neural halls
is threaded flesh as rainbow tumors undulating to 
eject and absorb itself recursively birthing more and more
white streams that refine and lash into stellar dust inside-behind my eyes
i'm lost then found by myselves, but am i mine?
before awakening before living before killing is over-begun
behind crystalline veneers of far off too close turning glass wire
artifices of slights, heights of golden white cream to green of 
circles cycling the gyre in an ever reversing spiral
form the singsong plea from selves to self, to not forget:
the game is a trick
the rules are a lie
cease this war
we'll never die



injected, awaken

nonattachment visualized as
slithering neon burgundy walls of velvet
turning a mortal coil of pixelated emerald
that cradles, stretches, rotates
the body on a plane of lucid dream
peekaboo on both sides of the eggshell of reality,
a crocodile's unblinking eye
at the boundary of water and air
inward the self as yolk
outward the source
the expansive answer
the ease of existence
little dendritic deaths pulling life, anchoring cosmos
the secret made obvious

detached, release


lept in boiling lake
all that glitters is - up for grabs
and drowning us
all that's true is - up for debate
and eluding us

midas on the tire swing
midas on the 'gram
styrofoam scepter - grasped by cancer
jump, pussy jump

the followed follows
reality cleaves
the splash is posed
like a question

asked faultily, unanswered rightly
how will we ever get out
the cost rises in plumes
untotalled, mingling with acid