from a porch, walk by

i stepped aside to let you pass

an insecure tempo-flow

too fast, you laugh at my gait

scurried-chop steps

too slow, annoyed, making you late

wandering uneven

an insecure state, where i live

the city, a constant drone of self-doubt

my home, decorated with draining desires to be like everyone else, at ease

or so it seems

on this path from here-to-there, the intersection of opened-eyed nights and self-talk lips, replaying the tone of my voice when i said ‘really’ in surprise to your recent trip, did it drip with the disconnected insincerity i’m afraid it did?

i didn’t mean it that way

i really, meant really, an affirmation of wonder at the way you walk through life without blunder, until the thunder, then you scurry, upended ego, hiding

i emerge to dance in the rain, develop friendship with pain, the grime caught underneath squeaky shopping cart handles makes me sane, knowing i can hurt again

and again

and again

the clouds lift

and you pass by

i shuffle along, after counting to five, a self-aware fuck up, pulling my shirt, chewing sleeves, smoking endlessly, everything to repel you away so i can confirm how shitty of a companion i would be without knowledge of how to simply be, immersed in weather conversations, where you work, my god, pictures of your grandma, a dead dog

i can’t walk beside you


don’t look back

from a porch, processed in a dream

misty rain pockets, snatched and swirled across mid-afternoon sunbursts, wind welcoming westward expansion with sustenance


a reason to pause long enough

observing your half-painted nails nervously being bitten through lips i disguise in daydream-dodges of reality, dropping now to dig through earth-colored spears held up with fertile mixed soil and mud

standing erect around you, bendable gripped by you

able to be destroyed

by you

they’re not pursed, your lips that is, during these moments of momentary mindlessness only i know exist

like they are now

they rest, slightly ajar, an invitation to drop winter’s armor

and take a chance

if only i didn’t have to ask

for you to join me here

refreshed by summer’s surprise

softening our eyes

i now realize

i’m not alone

from a tent, mornings bring terror

skip sequence, break the mold

mix up order, restore peace

however, it’s only repositioned pain


broken nights thrown your way by people who should have known better always remain, indelible sharpie ink scrawls on your soul, shards that will cut through eventually, and leak memories of lamp-breaking nights into the bliss you thought could shroud dad’s finger waving and mom’s burnt cookies

wafers you found out weren’t good enough after neighborhood-sleepover birthday parties in fancier houses, staying with sewn together parents, frayed edges showing when the “unit” is alone

singed finger tips

your family ties were ripped at the seams in public squares

broken down stares

knowing you had to get out

facades developed, and destroyed

break circles

step out

only after roaring back

you must push them out

not down

move on

from a porch, for tomorrow

our converse conversations, starting within the end, didn’t end abruptly

words eased to a lull, i tightened my high tops and shot back across town where i knew the shaggy headed kids smoked cigarettes and threw pickles against coffee shop windows cheering cured cucumbers to the ash filled table below

sixteen and without fucks

i was always the nice guy

“more like a friend”

nine-passenger wagon rides to skank filled concert halls, white-reggae dancing

eye-lined boys, boundaries moved

lake-side-plume-filled-sweatshirt walks tasting dollar-fifty lip gloss, inhaling a “twenties” worth of virginities perspiration on the nape of her insecure neck

i was young once

engrossed in moments, enmeshed in the now, talking to you

going no where

inverse discussions

without end

from a chair, collective comfort

pillows were heaped high to appease the whim of royalty

everyone where’s purple these days

it’s pink we contest

civil unrest, bludgeoned life vest

thrown long after the ship sank

harpoon shot practice


never defined

intuition refined, forgetting what they tell us

we drown

why should we trust the man with rolls lopping over his water-worn belt holding up a swimsuit, in name only, because he went wading in shorts, unprepared, to blame the cinematic version of being lonely and scared

after realizing

he couldn’t save himself

who am i to judge?

i wore tri-colored trunks to bed last night, my head, worn and wretched, dug firmly into balled up blankets as i pretended sleep came easy

“keep your rectangular fluff stacked to the ceiling.” i whisper into cotton creases, hoping you’ll hear “observe your status, as bulged and bleeding eyes greet another day, after another night of keeping watch, waiting for shadows to materialize and actualize what you thought was buried in billion dollar bribes. you lost. fuck off.”

i drift away

you, press “0”

asking “will you bring more?”

in the end

when they come

you’ll have to answer the door


from a couch, checking boxes

move, with rhythm and purpose

beat back the desire, stand still


you mustn’t shuffle your feet to seek the thrill, balancing and bouncing off bodies barricading an escape from uncontrollable congregated climax

heightened state


coming and going, we’re all inclined

stay until the end






whipping-wish motions, never knowing who you may please

i’m tired, though

nighttime routine, following

voice in daylight, independent

laughable, commendable

not sustainable

clashing ego, super ego, you, alone

tell me

one side, voice


whether to bail, suicide doors, on spontaneity’s sunday ride, pissing off everyone around us, agitated at the prospects that saturday, as it was, may never be, again

that’s why we came

when we could

from a porch, waiting for the sway

sideways force, movements continue forward

swaying in ecstasy’s lane wondering if i should pull over

backwards isn’t an option

waiting for you to catch up, would tempt my patience


we never surrendered to that scheme, moving to the known, our game was to dethrone what couldn’t be predicted

animal instinct


pushing the physical, unable to tackle the emotional…state of deciding if we were doing the right thing

it was the breeze

disturbing my trajectory

i gave in

while you led the way

from a porch, dragon designs

when i’m alone

optical nerve transmissions draw fire-breathing dragon designs in dim-lit skies during spaced-out imaginary line tracing moments when looking around makes me nervous

acknowledging points

unseen by busy minds


when we choose to go blind

to control-crafted scenes, dismantling the fiends-for-truth imagery

remembering that fantastical creatures do exist

if i let them

dragons of peace

wrestling away manic moments

dragons of laughter

teasing human-assembled components

dragons of forgotten stories

burning images, recalling connections

dragons of passion

witnessing resurrection

a collection

of misfit truth warriors clad in scales, balancing the weight of midnight tales, leaving us breathless and passing through daytime constraints to find salvation

i blink

it’s over

clouds carried hope away

from bed, an effort for peace

deliver me from heavenly creatures who only do the bidding of their own kind, to protect the flight of wings wound with wire and feathers, mesh and flesh

preserving all they know

without looking out

candles burn

leading our way to shoe clad monsters clip-clop-clapping around

uncovering homes of the lost and unfound

exposing fault to find faith

sharing inadequacy, it wasn’t the seventh but the eighth

day, when we sang together

you, soaring above, nose high, self-righteous indignation, mirrors must not be hoisted to the sky, the atmosphere is two-ply, insulating insults, words we catch in the breeze

when you come down

to where we dwell

witness instead of speculate

heaven describes what’s above alone, not a status of gold perched on a throne

what do you call us when setting the table of difference?




mother and brother

we’ll share spaces

find more pleasure

touching faces

from a porch, rain is coming

grafted personalities with wind-blown hairdos did the desert dance in sand filled bedrooms while clutching arid histories against milk depleted breasts

hope crumbled as swirling dirt devils divided what happened


what was wished for

we can’t taste the innocence of a sour dairy kiss anymore, without wondering which farm you wandered away from

developing a future, progeny

will cease

birds will fly

dogs will bark

worms will weasel through holes, no longer visiting the sea

we came together, for destruction

brought together, so they could continue on