the mental museum.

“Stop dropping expensive devices, Lauren,”
   is a metaphor for my conduct lately,
     glazing the contents of my heart
       onto my freshly washed sleeve

  [& it’s bloody, call nine-one-one
      strong, a sort of Maker’s Mark
         I’ve drunk presently …
     it’s powerfully potent
       like you in a glass-artifact bottle]

    I obliterated my phone screen this time
       it looks like I took aim and fired
         fuck these concrete steps, too/
           & the wayward chill
              I won’t miss this location

I won’t miss this location


         I’ll take the main feature with me
           wherever I go,
             something like the Mona Lisa,
    my winged Victory of Samothrace 
             but with its beautiful head


the eve of eviction

endurance is a kind of patience
  like watching leaves fall
                                       & flutter
                                       like feathers
                                       back to

           I’m never saying goodbye
             now that you introduced
                 yourself / there’s a gift
                         in transit:
                I can’t be anywhere else

I have to have it
I’m stuck to your side
like Eve and I’ll give a rib
just to be near you
            infatuation isn’t the half of it

the tale

there’s no dragon up here
   & I find I am always awake
                oft alone though
     I think I see where you were
                     in my lofty window
        check the prints your hands left
                                 on the stone

       it’s cold isn’t it
         maybe you’d require a monsters fire
                                     to bake your insides
                                           & keep you warm

                       I can guarantee the ignition
                         phoenix have nothing on
                            sideways princes
                   even less on a corrupt princess
                   without a coin left to her name
                         just lyrics


crouched near mass transit

my grey matter self harms|

I’m going straight
      to Hell
      with my father
       my fixation
        & my complaint
   HR wears a face I can’t see
                           [it’s too dark]

                           I can only spy the peek
                and it’s staring back at me
                now if only
                               if                      only.
                                 it was listening

 because everything I’ve discovered lately
            has been maddening
            & I am possessed by obsession

  return to flannel
    christened/dusted by snowflakes
       which fall as fast
           as I did for you
in no time at all//
    foraging for portals
       & scavenging for wormholes
              I am ravenous
               for what’s eternal


bank on boudoir

the little tears in my lace
  are from my own indelicate fingers
             three sheets to the wind,
                           dealt in haste
     everywhere they are placed,
        your tattoos [& the colors they hold
                                      stand emboldened]
      I try not to stare, but
        I’m afraid I’m besotted
          waiting for the skylights
            to motivate me otherwise
                but I don’t think for a split second
                                               it’ll work
              I have to know now
               how you sound
                when you’re thrilled
                 and spill over 》
                  like my cup runneth . .


the sublime drifter

I think anytime:AM is right on time
   for a little havoc on the white star
   [they made silencers
                       for a reason]
     but I’m unburdening into assassination
                 coincidence doesn’t measure
     the crimes I took to be belittling &
        cruel, for example
        the Titanic was monstrous, it
   sheltered 2,200 passengers
                and you know what time it sank?

2:20 AM
         just add a zero
         clearly, someone did—

       [      conspiracy of failure.          ]


Authors Note: it’s just-us for me
                             [ justice ] – I Prevail


dear sorcerer,
   I need to know how to control time
   I am just another girl, interrupted
  & I just need a second for
 I have so many questions
            I don’t think there’s an end to them
           or this fascination, it’s amorphous
           it forms its own sentences &
                  it paints me garrulous
                          it doesn’t make any sense
                I can only hone your taste
          so-much my mind’s eye is glazed
     I need your help
                     sorcerer, penetrate my core
               with those eyes | open doors

           to heartfelt dimensions
         all taking a hard necessary swallow

》 in flames




Netflix doesn’t have this series
  I’m afraid it hasn’t gone to stream
      a tip of the hat I’d wager I’d give
      to anyone who is anyone’s best
                          but doesn’t know it

   there’s something to be said
   for interpretive dance
   though lately this drum & bass melody
   isn’t hectic enough yet

          poetry is the language
                  of the ludicrous
           surefire sessions in space
           I prefer zero gravity
                 in love with an opportunity
       [I’m writing my own villainous lyrics
                   on the fucking fly
                 don’t subscribe : I have no idea
                      what I’m doing]


the portrait

I think if I wrote the bones
        of a religion you would
       have inspired the first tenet
       love yourself as you would
               something you respect
        & if you respect no one and nothing
              what you then become you
          shall receive

        chaos begets chaos
          monsters beget monsters
         beget cages beget heartbreak
             begets targets

        infamy is such a high flag to wave
     Socrates said wonder is the beginning
    of wisdom
         [ I think the man was onto something
              when I scrutinize you ]


alone; Friday

see the stars & how they shine
                  for you/or will you?
          a fractal state of mind
      is mine when I lay eyes
                                             to meet you
     the spectators rush the guards
      you can see it between the bars 
              & so can all the 》 quantum

          when the guest of honor rewards
                     me a little convalescence
                     there is only one judge
                    in the trial of character vs. You

       there’s diamonds
          in your sharpshooter eyes
      &   [ they drill right through ]
              record every second
                 to capture every essence
                        we may completely omit
                              your bird of prey
                               amongst those tame
                                I think it’s riveting