Little geckos huddle
inside the screen of my sliders.
Who can blame them? It’s
raining out and will be all day.
They breathe in the dampness
and feel the drops blow in
on their soft green bodies.
We all do the same–
seek protection from whatever’s
out there–danger, discomfort.
We’ve got our raincoats,
our seatbelts, our insurance
policies. Creatures
seeking shelter.
i.
you stop p e r love
Why ?
do you tend t o
n e e di t ?
do you pretend t o
n e e di t ?
ii.
you st at e
‘here was love’
here ?
was love here?
iii.
Why don’t you and I stop pretending that there was love here?
iv.
I stop
I stop p e d
Why don’t you ?
v.
?
vi.
I stop
tending t o
you and s e e a love
there
there was
I
vii.
I was here
I was love
I !
Viscous black attachment
Moon walks in her sleep
hushed by morning’s clouds.
My silence, skin deep,
belies pain’s moans
within, where breeze
cannot bewitch
and birdsong jeers
in off-key chit-chat.
The past, a long buckled sidewalk,
roots rejecting concrete
in favor of sky.
The future, nothing but a stump
carved into the shape
of a six-foot bear.
Today, the leaves dance
in the morning sun, flickering
bits of light on my bedroom wall.
What’s actually wrong with sleeping in everyday?
Smoking weed and playing games,
or ignoring unscheduled calls,
who made these laws?
That we should work so early and so often.
How have they not found the cure to a cough yet?
and why are people still put in coffins?
Who cares if you’re overweight,
or not 100% straight;
who cares how you live?
everybody sins,
so why do people join in
on glamorizing a photoshopped-picturesque lifestyle?
When everyone’s life
is a different kind.
But maybe I’m wrong,
maybe I’m just thinking from a time-stamped mind
made in 95′
Willow tendrils flutter
green butterflies
breezing the bank
the sun grows tall
she leans on the worn wood
spanning the stream
her shadow crosses
him broken by tree strands
containing all the unwritten
music of the void.
