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


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


i don’t have a name?

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

just be


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


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 bed, go back to then

“…a tree falling…”

i couldn’t hear the last part

creative cashing-in

beveled blades that transfer wealth

i crept beside her

listening to the steam rise from forest floors

casual benefits


shrugged silence

broken trials




we couldn’t keep up


still life

left listless in language-less hallways


echoing dance steps stranded in anxieties alien shoes


bring me back home

under her draped past

arms that welcomed

a few million

others came under her dress

around a breast

out of reach

couldn’t spare her breath

pass a test

one in four


they watched you erect her


i’ll believe you when you say it happened

i can’t hear their words

if i’m not in the room

from bed, sometimes sphinx rest in the middle

the pharaoh didn’t walk alone

on that gilded sand

legions of weak dreams followed her around

fading away to a blur

still strong enough to stir the breath of fresh water waiting for warmth in the morning stream of thought that hadn’t occurred without the jarring distant discontented sounds breaking on our painstaking turn to burn the love we adjourn without acknowledging the slight differences between us

i’m not stunned anymore


she confronted me as i stumbled with squinting eyes searching for answers to the riddle stranded in the middle of barren emotions balanced on the line of where we’re going and where we went


she’s waiting for me

on that gilded sand

leading me to the land of tomorrow’s memories

from bed, at least i’m not angry anymore

i used to think you’d show up when i left.

visions of a blustery fall day burial scene with cracks of thunder and would be lovers hiding behind trees while my family collected woulda, shoulda, and couldas

these thoughts brought comfort when slitting my throat seemed like a viable option


i forgot to rent out a sign to design the image of me i’d assign so you didn’t have to contemplate what i gave

absorbing left me dry

taken for granted

as i lye motionless you don’t deserve to cry while they lie and you skip over the dry sky that left me wanting more

now you’re heading to the store to buy what you were quick to deny

and these other assholes who take out billboards and broadcast simple tasks get your adoration in a shallow nation where everything needs to be spoon fed

here you fucking baby, planes coming in the hangar

i’d jab that spoon deep and carve out your esophagus, wrap it around your neck, and kick you over

the subtle beauty trapped in a clavicle bone draped with falling fabric riding up-and-down

is lost on you

not to be found in this fast forward fuck-fest where fake tits and cock sucking scenes are what you need to understand attraction.

told what to do, who to clap for, no fucking mind of your own to understand that passing fancy each day is what made you smile

keep nodding off to numbed out numbers coming through a real-to-life screen where i finally fall in the background

the worms will know