serene (the cotton candy float)
this
has a taste
like the color of an echo
rafting at a waterfall
illuminated,
the texture would be
like the scent of snow
inside a hologram.
if you could puff
a milkshake
of butterflies,
you’d know it
roachlike
as nature’s crowbar cracks the morning open,
do I crowd midnight’s remnant corners?
am I to be found fawning at the back of barren cupboards,
daring time for one more unseen hour?
is the hollow where I burrow destined to be uncovered
at the next gash in the moon?
as the universe is clobbered into halves,
am I as well?
or perhaps I flutter simply, darkness harnessed, contrary to the roach
Mr. Mallory
Just like lawn mowers machete over innocent grassland,
the trains in Mr. Mallory’s city grated along their metallic tracks,
tearing through all atoms of stillness to set a pace for the day
Standing on the platform
Mr. Mallory rested his arm across the length of his flappy leather satchel
and analyzed the concrete
washed ashore
good day for a dip, i think
neck deep at least
tangle my feet in the boulders beneath
probably slip all the way under
drop to the bottom of eternal sadness for cover
sink and wonder
a swim through the swamp of woes
where the vast nothingness roams
cast a net for those crumbling dreams, or…oh
nevermind the dip, i’ll splash in my tears
it’s familiar here; getting wet never felt better
enter my give-up era
Far from the Avenue of Bars
I remember the night I met you
We sat on the porch and smoked cigarettes
I asked you about music
We understood each other right then
Today, thinking of you, I remember that life can be war
Unrelenting
Crueler than humans one by one
It’s an onslaught, unforgiving
You knew despair, you told me
You were a songwriter
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