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

with

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

from a midwestern bed, sleep deprived and still acting

you have an audience

take a bow

glide through the curtains

a trail of movement as the lights go up

applause only lasts as long as the illusion that you’ll give more

it doesn’t follow, fate fades

dimensions, one sided

apprehension we confide in

i stood before a crowd once, lost my voice and fell from the cloud composed of possibilities that you’d accept me

i couldn’t compare myself

you were worried, self aware, self-centered, bathing in the echo hitting hands

forgetting i need you

rather, i become you, destroy me

i won’t last

let’s get off this stage

that was the final act

from a couch, back in pocket

i packed the information deep in the crease of a car seat waiting for him to return from his midnight run to the south-side of town where whispers were captured and drowned in the effervescent moon glow

building intensity until climax and i should change my shorts before i return unless you can convince them the squirm in my heels and kicks of my legs are due to an innocent grabbing of my sinister stick plucked and peeled from the family tree i fell out of two weeks before the beginning of jail night stays

i commit the crime, and they saw it that way, wishing wicked thoughts would welcome whatever it is you drink before toxic conversations turn to fists breaking flesh and “i hate you’s” that are healed by mornings aching eyes, rolling over and smelling thighs until you realize it’s the thought of disappointment you dispose of in accidental dumpster fires where once and again, forever, and never will my rod bend when i capture a glimpse of your stagnant water wishing it had taken a left instead of a right down the middle, play it safe bullshit life without a fight to call me to help during hellfire deliveries, packages banged and rearranged wondering which doorstep you live behind

i knew waiting for you would spin into this

the information is there

deep in your seat

take a look

from bed, i see, and hate, him

distraction static pouring from mouths

too drunk, too tired, too far from the south

tread light, dinner is served

it’s saturday night, come hear the good word

paper exchange in light of day

leads to paper exchange under the grey…clouds moving and stretching thin across the sky, accidentally allowing us to see heaven; the sun

on earth, above

we’ve certainly done a number below, gas fuels flow, pushing our smoke stacks out of sight, money made on pretending you’re right

thankfully, ocean depths live alone

drones, internally combust

but, it’s saturday night

‘who needs that stuff, i have had enough’

say the pock-faced-aged-ignorant assholes who own this street, in closets with tie racks, kids need to know what to buy on dangerous holidays, right?

excuse his persona shift, blowing steam?, safe jumping from fuck-up faith cliffs, he’ll find their bed

not before letting the streets know he came, it’s his window to lean in, she sleeps on blue pills, the children’s eyes dizzy themselves to coma with rectangles and orange dust fingers

he guzzles, wanders, ‘i don’t weave, you move outta my way’, ripped yellow-shirt slobs, like him, say before his inflated eyes drive down her blouse

cleaned up in the day, presentable

kitchen table confidence

sleeping only after a drink of numb juice and arguments with his favorite facebook profile pic

it’s where he likes to stick, people with mirror faces, beach sand embraces, making all the power he has pounding sidewalks more noticeable

disgusting disgrace of a well dressed dickhead thinking he can dance because he heard these 90s tunes come from his gay brothers bedroom, the one he never calls

he’ll make it home

sleeping in his underwear, she’ll pick up his clothes in the morning

the kids think it’s his coffee needs

it’s bandages, covering where he bleeds

eyes wrapped in goose-step bandanas

a self-created world vision, leading to distracted-distorted static pouring from his mouth, into nothing

that’s being threatened

and he has resources

he’ll use

not before

another round

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 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”