curving spacetime to get the shot

They say Jupiter is a cannibal
   how do you think
                  he became so large?

                       Aren’t we all just
     an amalgamation
                           of sorts

            Ravenous to our core
                  I think the source is a thirst
                                for experiences
             solely my own but

               I yearn for those composed
          & conjoined with you
                who else

                         We’re everything


Elzora beckons

I’m busy doing the job
   everyone laughs @ me for
      [predicting the future]
  leaving notebottles in the aether & then
    retrieving the ones I’ve discovered like
         so many gold coins
     the words are treasure

             these notes I find
        aren’t addressed

       somehow I imagine
            they truly are for me
                 I know why I’m called crazy
                   l o o s e l y
                         [its all fun & games
               you’re just subjectively crazy
        & people like it because
    they’re crazy too]

                  I’m going to send a message

                             I’ll see your model ship afloat
                                           in waves


without sound mind

Honestly, today was a bad day. I yearned for the feelgood end & I mourned for what I never had and somehow still’ve missed out. I am at a loss to loss and lost in a field of others’ wild roses. Late bloomer doesn’t cut it close. I’m trying like hell to see the fairytale but my grown-up vision views the ideal as increasingly stale. I need rose colored everything to shade the cynicism. Paint the grass green & let it rain it’s the only way I’ll deem it healthy. I’m starting to like turning off the light.

perfect withou

Press Y to continue

Everything is a mess except for you & me and I will do the courtesy of protecting you until I no longer can and it’s possible everything bottled oozes out-takes over bloodshot weeping like poison oak. It’s detrimental & I hate it just as much as the next to tell me to stop baring teeth & endure it. I like to be cruel in tiny doses. My shadow has wicked edges like a natural weapon. Its language is sharp. It’s smarter than me. It lacks subtlety. Sometimes it speaks ahead but I will never go to war with you.

You’re the only reason I’m here.


sous ton nez

there’s a certain tune
    that flows with fetish prose
      early morning footfalls
       in-between the breakfast nook

              Round the corner

   a gagged mouth
                      desperate eyelids flutter
                as he buries into
           the slick,

                         the only sound is flesh


the fabulous neologism

I am a Pacman for secrets
         I love to absorb your l[o]st
      while you call me divorced/

         Ever wonder if Sheogorath
                             had a brilliant point?

                        This work is my Wabbajack


reap the harvest

Well met, lovely gardener,
        languishing with the Sun
   every morning:
I wait while you’re awash
    fierce dripping flesh
              in your rainshower

I am your honeysuckle reward
  no one cared properly for or since
      & when I rebel I break through
   concrete in sacrilegious color

              know despite my visceral thorns
                           in conscious relief
                          I seek your vengeance,
           for all your faithful labors gone remiss

under your warm meticulous nature
                 I will become ideal


the kind observer

the dreamy kinesis of falling feathers
as I mount an esoteric ladder
   I AM ungovernable at best
          temperamental at worst

   [researching spiritual rebirth &
                  the effect of sex
                                      hit the deck]

                  unleashing orgasmic bliss
                        from a canyon/ no,
        an awfully verbal mountain
                  comparative to myths
         of biblical proportion

             I spy/I spy

                     on your feet, now, soldier
            we are leaving


a girl loves an ambiguous grandisonant smith

I always ruminate on death & though I swallow the fact that it’s inevitable I serve the entity with a restraining order
         [knowing damn well it won’t stay away] perhaps it’s my aesthetic

                      no matter the case
        It’s only a paper slip
                to a human skull
      these words are
                    immortal/in that, you & I
           are supple peas in a mod

                weaving our legend

in the absence of light

        I sense poetry in all forms
   ____in every consumable
        it simply needs to be constructed
       from news articles on the expanding universe to brief snippets of conversation [seconds & seconds on seconds]

                my doomsday fate
       tragic shut in-case
    timid & belligerent to a world
        without you>>> fit for demolition