A journey begun several feet beyond redemption / a line crossed, erased from behind. / Walking through trammeled ground / the path worn to a gully. / Have been here before. / The trees rise and reach.

Like a white-hot biblical angel.

The two possums in love / are a projection I prefer / to the alternative / indifference / at the worm-heart of all things.

When we first met you were driving the wrong way down the interstate / Cops in tow / LED headlights blinding / Wagecucked chattel like me / I was just another piece of collateral damage / Bulldozed in your wake 

Diabetic Ketoacidosis and Camus 

There is no flight from light, no  
solution to the absurd, when  
through the ghost we are revived— 
the shiny little sun-stars seeing out 
like a

What distances between / Intent and flesh, a life / Beyond each brazen vow: / If only swords could be drawn / Against every problem

The sun is citrus— / orange ruptured guts / emblazoning / a golden Buddha / reclining among macaques 

5. you are paralyzed like a deer in the middle of the road / a car is / a. hurtling towards you at full speed / b. disappearing into the distance

But most of all, I want to shove my head beneath the depths of any river, to gargle on the bubbles, because I want to swallow the sky when any sun is visible through the drowning.

Everyone is fucking me on the internet

It is a gift / to be alone in this world / together with everyone / and everything / we’ve ever loved 

There is a War between Words and Things. Armies are on opposite sides of a River called Speech

I don’t care about writing anymore this is stupid / I don’t care anymore about this shit / They were like umm but doesn’t this mean so much to you / I said no

It’s evening already / and the vibes are so off / it isn’t even funny. 

Days of Vagrant Youth  

We sit around drinking poison 
that’ll give half of us  
cancer  
             and the other, madness, 
mistaking ill euphoria for 
wisdom of the moment.  

We’re

Your soul, yes, bright as a star in a blackened sea-sky. Something to admire from a cliff,
impossible to hold. 

look at me and how I just / sit around and fucking pout

Spirals in the / Sky spray out eight billion cassette tapes / So anyone on any other planet might wit / Just how thin earthly love has withered.

I am trying to love the crook in my back.

I have developed an awareness / Of my need to perform this fervor  / And what I thought was fear / Turned out to be excitement.  

The house’s cracked smile
hides behind spines of oak trees.

i tell them of the violences endured / & how i began working here at 17. / five days later: no longer able to speak, / nor walk, frozen in stillness.

burrowed in my
fear like I was making a home of it.

Open Windows
A Contrapuntal

The heat                                                                 here in Texas
is such to close                                     the heart and the rain; let

She was meditating with me / And eventually she was gone licked up by the surf / On a personal level, expressed in a fiction / That was the breadth of my loving and no thing more