from a couch, i forget

he took his glasses off with purpose

nothing to do with sight

dramatics to determine the path of this conversation

he didn’t want to see it my way

it wasn’t really a way, a forgetting

dropping a reality draped over monsters and myths

they come out at night

cascading down stair cases, whipping open doors, flowing out on streets, there will be no peace tonight

bottles break

men scream

in the distance, chains are pounding pavement in rhythmic waves, people walking lockstep to survival

turning on you?

turning into them?

leaving this plane without a decent memory bouncing in the minds of those who remain, a stain, wore off, painted over, or cleaned up

i’m gone

he warned me, when those glasses hit the floor, that i was wrong

pushing cloud pillows aside, i happily disagree

we both know we’re right

from a chair, feeding insecurity

pouring poison into harmony is my specialty

your lies, building blinding emotions that leave me questioning sanity, is yours

two lives, elliptical orbits

eclipsing reality

explanations of egos, spinning existence

relying on forces proven by minds

hearts leap, at least once

you convinced me i needed more, if i didn’t believe, i’d die

sailing through the desolate space

until

i had no one

reasons to exist cease, did i exist?

an unanswerable query vacuum sealed as your insecurity feeding comments leave me breathless

i didn’t poison you, us

that apple fell long ago

i finally forgot the story

and let go

from bed, come out, come out, wherever you are

she hid

most of the time

shrouded by deception, trapped and entwined

i let her lure me once

hook set deep

drifted away by desires

hollow hallways, bulging eyes, dropped jaw

love cleverly disguised

tap the chamber door

three times

find the floor

nursery rhymes overheard while resting on flat pillows down the hall

pigs, princesses, that fucking weasel

i was never anyone’s sunshine

jesus didn’t want me either

she read them to you

i was snuggled in lead blankets, alone, tears streaming slowly to the creases on my face, salty, resting on my heavy heart, trapped in my heavy head, feeling my heavy everything, connections unfed

i thought i could follow her voice

echoes led me to you

you seemed content, and not quite what i was hoping for

olly olly oxen free

from bed, despite all the rage…

tender age

wrapped in a cage

i’m sitting in a king sized bed trapped by rage

oh, poor me

images, laying complicit, forcing myself to absorb every still-photo cycled, recycled, history’s nest incubated reminders, we need to thrash the dark parts of humanity, rip them to shreds, when babies cry “papa” in silver marathon beds

disassemble the fragments

destroy this age

no need to seek

it’s barreling down

unmasked

emotion-beat faces of those who consistently play straight, yah, the ones he calls fake, can’t help tear-drop reality, as they struggle to speak what was spoke by breaking-voices rushing in their numb right ears

“excuse me? what’s that? are you kidding me? i have to share what?”

“we’re live”

i know

living

we lost this hand, gave it away

tears stream into artificial color blends, now presentable, a tell

humanness

hurry up, deal the cards

you know what?

fuck it

have the chips, cash them in, stick it in your neighbors wife, we’re done

my poetics are failing me

anger controlling me

stacking up reasons there’s nothing i can do, we talk about the jew, after…

weak minded bosses who use diseased shit for brains thought process to take over society, ahhh, you fucks!

how many “h’s” do you use to demonstrate screaming through clenched teeth?

bowels released in my bed from pressure dread inculcating my heart, core, and head

being polite needs to end

upend

fuck you who are still calm and reasonable

cooler heads get frost bitten, left unable to make their mouths malleable enough to whisper

“stop”

drop and roll

they’re a fire, inhaling timber down mountainsides once hailing purple majesty

that’s their color now

royalty

red and blue fused, knot tied ideology, hues overtaken, mistaken, conjoined

copywriting the slogan on the back of our coin

of no value, inflated hearts pop, moral markets crash

trade in your blank stares and candy bar cares

‘cause

“this could be awhile”

from a couch, cynicism’s promise

cynicism is no excuse nor accident

it slowly seeped into our daily strolls down public sidewalks when we habitually asked ourselves “who belongs?”

atheists skipping over cracks, struggling to explain what’s and why’s to children not embarrassed that they’ll die with these questions, without the veil of ghost voices standing over them saying ‘because i said so’ fear flavored with fake sugar promises of gates we can’t all pass through

it’s just a phase

“they’ll” find god

gay lovers holding hands at ages younger than “they” think can understand what it means to be attracted to something you own, our procreation practice promise is superior

it’s just a phase

“they’re” just trying to shock us

black men clad in cumbersome pants hustling through frantic streets side-stepping their glance, a missed chance, averted eyes dig trenches, the ‘others’ ocular lens looking for a restaurant, that’s “worth the trip”

it’s just a phase

“we’ll” stay safe

mexican children running through fence lines, making good neighbors, how’d they get here? don’t you dare take what’s ‘ours’, scared and alone disheveled streets, scarred fields chemical laden waiting to be consumed, doing what no one wants

it’s just a phase

“we” need the help

continually asking, is this the ‘see something’ they said we should ‘say something’ about?

fear: separating migrant children from families

fear: separating mom and dad with alcohol and opioids to soften the blow of fear

fear: separating you to false god forgiveness for fear acted upon with a sneer

fear: separating you from me during sun-glow walks under orange and purple skies, seventy degrees, with a slight breeze, we could be gathering and discussing the tease ignorant assholes in alley way corners are trying to trick us with, and laugh them into the shadows with optimism’s promise, that we’re all in this

together

without fear

from a couch, pushing through

hair tossed aside

falling down

covering eyes, masking deceit

daily newspapers filled the beat

quickly tossed aside, recycled

redrawn

same words, different names, pictures with paragraphs stripping the game of any integrity left dripping onto bathroom floors during bowel movement rituals greeting morning

be your true self, beneath the veneer, it’s hard not to like the man with money, he enjoyed her company

he left her falling like a squeezed lemon, bitter displays, what you want to hear at the brink of devastation

never committing

sleepy soup brained middle men hopped on a choo choo train and wished away every friend they ever had, too much to relate to when minutes are split by today’s deceptive practice

wash, rinse, repeat?

admit that thinning spot is reality

expose vulnerability

move away from our dailies

into a grave

relieving concerns

we forgot how to behave

from a porch, let’s swim

howling back

walking cold, sweatshirt stretched as hands pull pockets past a waist strapped

just in case

in case my instincts and common sense, kindness and corner stance, can’t ward off an error by undereducated, underfunded, drug riddled corners with resting peace officers taking a hit

skim off the top

i’m drawn to the chalk outline, urine soaked sidewalks with prancing foreign faces finding clever-phrased posters drawing them in for food, or other shit we don’t need

the ocean is waiting for me

let’s swim

from a booth, upstairs at city lights

amongst you

i hear the shuffling of papers, folders opening and closing wondering if we’d gone too far from nights dancing with words, shooting stars glazed over, realizing dylan was a person

the best of my generation

they read words in corners and debate your mind

it’s theirs

clothes hang in a breeze only this town can laugh at

they grin and won’t finish the book

we thought we should discover, why this upstairs reading room is full of fears

cameras snapping, you ran out the back door after drifting through monsters in the basement odors where stairs creaked giving you away to the only celebrity status you could have imagined a poet to have

snapping fingers and gay men touching genitalia to press our comfort level to heights ignored by the dragons next door, they’re selling culture

walking through back streets

is any of it here, have we maintained a museum losing intention of what a place like this creates

i’m scared, scared that as i write this poem in your echo it’s an ode to something shit on by our generations dabbling quick pulse obsession with taking a picture outside and proving our worth, i’m done

your paper is now being crumbled, chair wheels spin, i hear you pacing around the room

are you waiting for me

staples

dropped articles, a tape dispenser

my heart races

are you going to open up, wait, lighter laughter

women’s voices, talking about their mother

what she used to say

songs she’d play

‘it cracked me up’

‘that’s so great’ it sounded fake, maybe your voices did too, i immortalized fakers

i’m done; in the poetry room

kids are impatiently waiting in streets honking

time to pay my money, as tribute, to standing, sitting and waiting

where you once dwelled

thank you

from bed, fragments joined

i don’t need to give you a beat

strip down, hold your own spoon

reading fragments, my life and mind

you should relate

ball point pens, bastardized purity

cannonballs drop and fly, one we smile

the other we die

if i provided the rhythm, sishboom-ta-sish-ma-bleepity-ba

the mistake is made

you’ll be gone, believing me

cadence in footsteps racing on moving sidewalks, bastards, i’ll say it again

there is no father, pretend

answers aren’t magic

amend, times change, however tragic

revolutions rearrange, chaotic static

pathways we once trusted

slap your knees

move your mouth, soliloquies

you don’t need me

there is no part

parting, to the end of this musical

joining the ripple

losing your need

for me to provide a beat

from bed, wrestling with the past

tag team matches were my favorite

the way they waited until just the right moment to slap hands, and rage on with new energy

rope shaking

coordinated uniforms

a bond taking on the world

i spent a lot of time watching them

legs crossed

sunday mornings

on-and-off eyeing last weeks doritoes crumbs hiding deep enough in green-shag-carpet pockets to be vacuum ignored, my “operation” ready pincher-fingers poking and prodding

i never ate a booger, but the red dust collateral-damage fragments found their way into my mouth

from time to time

hey, my stomach rumbled, and i couldn’t miss the match

bulldogs

warriors

bushwakers

brothers

and freebirds

i believed them, more than the moving voices thumping around in their own safe rooms behind and around me, joined together islands making a home, house, encapsulator of secrets and mirrors

alliances changed

interviews hijacked

an interpretative tussle-dance playing out on colored tubes while making sense of a childhood in real time, similarities shifted in my springtide mind (he is like him), connections made to characters

and caregivers

i, they, gave new strength and roles

i could relate

sort out the thunder from the rain

battle royals were saved for saturday nights

i hid under my covers while watching, wincing, and covering, real blood, real punishing blows, and coffin nails

they would leave

i’d get up

shaking my head

“was it real?”