sickness

fever heatenergy collapsewe are ebbin the heart of web held fastcast in ironheated upforged into something breath is hotthe chest is lockeda pulled tight knotan early night

monsterous solutions

the things you frankenstein because you don’t have time at the fork between tines we talk between times the things you half-bake half-arse and half-fake because you are caught on the fly not truly a lie where do you sit? where do you stand? against the wall? on the fence? moving towards a final resting

teeter

we float the edge standing ledgewards on a tearing map confusion is the whitenoise tide this radio detuned a spinning smile and a spinning dial hooked by the spinning black circle it is a propensity where we stand pinwheel the arms tilt at windmills topple forwards

Heat Exhaustion

frosty sweat in heat my stomach fell away i’m tired want to lay down and fade out i grab for fluids electrolites build it all back up fix myself try to put in place measures to avoid it again the florida sun looks down

non-litterbox poetry

capture reality not lyricism or clever clever meat and potatoes poetry poetry for the common man that is not newspaper for the litterbox he writes from everyman viewpoint becomes bland and milquetoast misunderstands that poetry which explains the world needs a heart not magnolia wallpaper

simply burger or kale

how much burger can you eat? you eat it and feel incomplete though you are a heavy weight a paused movement a collapsed narrative are you kale chips? are you brunch? are you lunar eclipse? are you big crunch? you can read it on your lips

sputter

those sputter conversations non sequitur bolted together request for understanding too dumb and demanding broken tongues a rhythm that numbs pierced tribal drums that don’t communicate we’re stuck here in a dither state where all the broken communications congregate plumber for the blocked sewer this for all who knew her and sailed in her and

the january edge

january edges to my personal start line celebration its draped in coldness and the bones chatter to ache heat is relative i am an ocean away from the place where i woke up on a sunday afternoon and things couldn’t be more different things couldn’t be more the same

until it’s concrete

playing tag taking a drag the cigarettes the debts the dos, the don’ts on the cancer ward you can ill afford to waste time so you codify your stories building platforms again to allow people to land on the memory of normandy beaches soldiers in the abstract women in the abstract it is never complete

feed me

we are diet of bland it is out of hand the bachelor will understand the food has been underplanned the best cook is on demand but won’t cook meat the meal is incomplete a boring underwhelming treat thinking about it is an insurmountable feat all we need are recipes buy us a new cookbook please