from bed, crossing property lines puts you in cages

kids in cages for crossing property lines

stay off his lawn, if you cross this figment of their imagination it threatens an insecurity born out of their disturbed, dirty, dead-soul mind-frame, and Gogol isn’t here to hold the mirror to the flaws you absorbed from enemies past

one time monsters are now what you hope to be

morph

are you afraid?

afraid, brown people will spill over to overthrow this overture to a symphony sewing discord, redirecting our friendship glances another distracted direction, wagner would be proud

waiting for your ovation

glimpses into the ebb and flow, of dots and nature’s boundary, needs you have down below, who am i to judge?

we froze the friends above, they used to be unthawed

so polite

i’m done listening, trying to understand

you don’t deserve the second hand that is heard clapping in forests alone where you’ve yet to tap natural nutrients to buy and sell for a single cell, there’s a cell in hell waiting to capture your lifeless soul you bought and sold for no more than the price of gold

they’re digging it up for you

stand still

wait here

we’ll come to you

from bed, hacking the breeze

relied upon institutions bastardized by a revolution of technology, masses conjure their imaginative egos pretending to have put in the time

fooling you, they’re real

discipline lost

paradise, long gone

sweet steven priest wrote a new song

i’m tricking myself that this poem, however long, contends with hughes, whitman, and what’s that haniel?

i belong

validation was cast in the lake of credentials, genuine appeal and voice discovered, developed and verified by the dirt under your nails, sunken eyes framed by the denial that everything is ok

prove myself

keep moving

they’re just as real

the words

i’m not the bash brothers containing my accomplishments with new blood juice, i’m letting loose the noose and finding an excuse to keep emitting emotion into an atmosphere of nobodies pressing ‘likes’, dismissing the possibility that i might have ‘something’ here

who wants to go first?

out on a limb

can’t cling to ironies ease, cackling, waiting for silence to assure you’re not alone when moments seized in the breeze of another’s sneeze and you said something

don’t bless me

dismiss me as a hack

why?

i don’t have a name?

selfish flying in internet space we ego-righteously claim it couldn’t be

just be

me

moving pictures of animal interactions are easy to digest

i’ll keep making meals lactose thick

i want you to hear me when i come out

influenced

contemplating a new page in this digital age, no one will define good for you

unless you join their monthly club

you made your box

now die in it

from a chair, inhaling the last of your stare

drenched in her tears i stepped into the hallway shared by all the other fourth floor door dwellers stinking of fried chicken, body fetor, and incense

none of which were winning the odor war, an amalgamation of whiffs running wildly through our rooms

all but tuna

tuna sat in the corner waiting for the stench to reach its threshold

then, without hesitation, he’d zoom center stage through draft ways and air vents

nobody welcomed him

he wafted alone through bed sheets and hanging drapes, living in garbage bin tossed tin can creases

festering in mouth corners

absorbed in crumbly crusts left on plates for tomorrow’s cleaning

blasting our senses, giving way to other impressions

biding time

for the next unleashing

resting on your breathe

before the door shut, i turned around and took my final look

sorry for the last time

if i could click my heels i’d be back with her

the her before her, that’s right before you

for years i penetrated the aura swirling around

thinking i could make a new sound pound from the ground you stood on and around

i’ve learned

nothing’s wasted

if we walk away with something

it’s my turn

i’ll dry my shoulders

lift off your weight

make my way down the hall

it’s never too late

to inhale the sweet smell of something new

from a stool, hours early

i’m the drone picking up the phone, listening to thoughts alone, without a deafening end-of-the-road dial tone

give this dog a bone

i’m going home

to encounter memories with drawn on faces

catching up to residual synthetic traces of time left behind

hit the rewind and scroll

i’m going for a stroll with the one i extol for lending an ear to my pulse rising pedantic platitudes piling up to nesting bird’s homes as they ready to relocate with weather’s winds

shifting

i’m staying here

come on in

i’m alone on my couch

catching up with the contoured creases that comfort me as i stare into this rectangular glow

reaching out

pretending you’re all with me

sit close

let’s make this real

temptation will steal away thoughts that make this deal worth taking

grab me

shake these pebble demons from my troubled mind

help me move on

away from you

solitude

from a lot of places, i wish these shootings would stop

how do i get to my kids?

wading through hearts left on the floor

it’s february 14th, you know?

teachers gurgling blood

mentees can’t make out who it is, by shoes alone

jesus fucking christ how many god damn more

children?

unsafe in seats

tragedies like these

be better than us, more than this

i’m a teacher

i’m with your kids

everyday

these bullets

the ones we allow to fly

make you, me, us

complicit

we gun down their emotions and need for attachment firing at their self-esteem needing a screen to tell us how to make dinner, that our parenting skills are okay

not today

you sit and stay when you see someone gray

say something

don’t joke about their shades

i dare you

too bright?

tell them to come back tomorrow

bullshit agendas next is what we swallow from guns to homeschool religion,

WARNING SIGNS?

Teach warning signs?

Do we ever think to discuss the problems?

selfishly shuffling away from blame

i know his name

troubled youth?

contemplation of suicide waiting in a desk for class to start

their ‘friends’ will do it for them

human being human being

we are disrupting the measures that make a human being

shootings at our schools?

can you understand that shit?

children

yah, teach our kids to open their eyes to their friends mental health problems, cause teachers have toted that one around long enough, when in the hell are the paper pushers going to stop shifting in unaccountable social media chairs

monster’s stares

who cares?

that’s the question

who cares?

they are asking us

who cares?

will we do something?

who cares?

it’s your fault

who cares?

from a couch, pride in a picture

her hands grasped a sign made with might, laughter, and community. with a single emphasis on what is right and sought after with humanity

equality

rainbow lips pursed, what’s next?

a kiss, whisper, or curse?

another step

fingers slipping

her eyes pacing around, intensity in song and chants resound

it’s her first time

another step

the dark witches chant for souls, grandmas sit with leaning goofy-slogan signs that still align with lifelong goals, while a feather frocked free bird frolics wanting humans to touch on common issues

she catches waves of ho-heys and hey-hos

knees adjusting

her mouth opens to join

she knows what democracy looks like

she tells the world

without a vote

she steps on

fists find the sky

her face widens and eyes smart to stages where leaders do their part, words are lost to be found with education, but she feels the cadence, fervor and intonation.

her hands find one another

a context for pussy

poems from cats, another trick from that hat

explaining

discussing

her steps continue

home

sitting, her couch of comfort, with bent and employed signs, sighs.

her mom turns on the news

‘that looks different’

she stands, shoots her mom a look and then upstairs to lay alone

images and words

she walks herself to sleep

from bed, i forgot the password

over time i lost my confidence

changing my smile was important to me

i got all this for less than fifty bucks

fair and honest

save, but hurry

we’ve learned a little more today

he spoke, but he’s less than forthcoming. surprise

can he answer

we’re frustrated

and this is the typical process

standard procedure

it’ll happen again

what is typical?

stay quiet

don’t slip

loose lips

i agree to cooperate

define my privilege

the understanding is misunderstood it doesn’t count, unless you want advice covering up crimes

we are entitled

focus on procedure, this is not usual

telephone the witness and stick your fist in his mouth, i’m covered, we’ll debate, i’ll die, before you rule

over me

evidence covering won’t fly like the pigs from your ass and out of the sky before i rest upon your inability to avoid us