molting

dehydrated green flakes
crowning the gray dust rabbits
in the forest of
times passed.

the trees seem so sad.
weeping willows sweeping my memories
of branches falling around
domelike

everytime I swing on them they seem new

until I remember
everytime
that its all just the exoskeleton
shed off by the creatures in my life

snake skin

but with patterns so familiar to me
and like always I stop a while
spend sometime with my old skins
and can never part with them

tuck them back away

until the next time I find them
unprepapered
surprised
sad.

but I would never go back.

santa in action

1138 and the crowds are already
crowding the entrances
exchanging glances
sizing up the competition

and a rush to the door
throngs of people staring
doe eyed at the metal grates
10 more minutes

panting for a taste of
what they cant afford any other day
as if they were rich for
one night.

and like any other sewer creature
forced to creep out at 1am
kids passed out in carts
while they grab for the doorbusters

i saw santa in action last night
and wished I had never been so spoiled.

softened butter, one egg, and half a pounding

93 chocolate chip cookies and
burnt aluminum
in the oven
on the counters

counters set to 9 minutes
and 34 seconds
give or take a fraction
to achieve that perfection

like the time i wanted to be
perfect
but always fell
short

you cant actually see if you are deaf. or can you?

i heard the most vibrant colors
on the pages of your notebook

so i stole it
watching the music

recording every note of color
every image of harmony

it was all in your entries
of that journal in your room

open the door to the basement
the smell of cold overwhelming

winter in new jersey
feels like summer in alaska

i wouldnt go back though
to those hallways with the blue lockers

and the car with the grey interior
rumbling through the mountain passes

id rather listen to your pages
wondering where they came from

the images
the sounds

the smell of cold air

oh the weather outside is frightful

to see in digital red
0 degrees
on the banks screen
juxtaposed with the endless

little swirls of breath
clouds in my atmosphere
its always raining here
in my solar system

even though the time says noon
in that digital red
it feels like 7 in the winter
dusk and gray painting the sky

logically it would be highly
undesirable
but when the colors match
it feels like home

even though nothing is familiar
my room a diffrent color
the bluegray sky matches
my gray blue heart

strangulation

theres a pinch in the left side
deep in my chest
but i have to ignore it

breathing isnt as easy
as it was when i had
use of my organs

inside out
crumbling down
im in doubt

i think my heart gave out.

blue windows

natural blinking action
followed by unnatural
purple tears
square shaped instead of round

the blue windows between us
stop me from seeing
what could be
beyond

a weird kind of feeling
when i know it won't happen
a shortage in the fuse
between me and you

green heat in the room
my side has all the electricity
and despite my charge
there is a blue window between us

a white syringe to penetrate
extract the blue envy
extract the green sadness
extract the red tension

im left in the blackness
rubbing my feet on the carpet
wriggling toes
trying to feel the shock again.

Sideways breathing

its a peculiar thing, but i find diagonals to be soothing
none of the tension and dynamism
its a restful hypotonouse between the
lifeless horizontal and the
endlessness of verticality

twist to the left to take a deep
inhalation
almost 20% nitrogen
the neglected but refreshing proportions
less elemental and more atomic

like the time I realized it wasn't ever about lines
biomorphic forms
its always been about the Artist

attempt again at a full gasp and this time
almost 80% oxygen
Its time to start breathing in whats important

slight references

the difference between abstracted and nonobjective
is in the suggestions and intentions and
inuendos of lines
this intersecting circle and square are either
geometric
or not even there

maybe a snow cone or maybe
a portrait of yourself after 3 long years that
amounted to nothing but a bunch of flowers and photos
the roses had thorns though
it feels good to let go

this abstraction is either you in breaking into
yourself
growing back your own fingerprints

or its a circle and a square

nonobjective or abstracted.
its not exact yet
until you name it

untitled.

canibalized

like my instestines are oozing from my belly button
knocking on my cells walls to break down
pinholes through the internal network
sepsis in the blood and theres no going back now
theres no going back now

like my esophogus is contracting around my tonsils
a cobra swallowing its morsals
contracting retracting beating and throbbing
no more swallowing
no more talking

like my heart is having a seizure
tangling the cardiac muscles
sending impulses to stop the blood flow
sepsis in the blood though
theres no going back now

like my nerves are falling asleep
tingling and stabbing and drowsy
stumbling graveyard of cells
theres no more feeling
i cant feel anything

if all the street lights went out

imagine if all the street lights went out
the sun absorbed to the core
generating
heat that cant be felt

everything stone cold and dark
blind and confused and
this mess is you
heat that cant be felt

im not really this ridiculous

felt pretty good for 16 dollars last night
wine hangovers are unique in the headaches they produce
my viens are puslating and i want to freeze them
stop the blood from pumping toxins
stop the blood from pumping oxygen
stop the blood to stop the bleeding

im feeling less metallic
feeling more dramatic
feeling but not really feeling
beyond the pounding
i must have forgotton my iron last night

ive been demagnetized

we're onto something good here

i used to take the stairs but its been harder lately
catching up to me catching my breath catching the next step
and then suddenly im breathless
standing still at 311 am staring at the pavement where your tires were
tireless wondering if you were wondering too
tiring because never in my waking life have i been so
jolted.
deliverance.
content but weary -sad but hiding it-
working but languid -crying but painless
i dont think its pointless
i saw deliverance
but the pavement was vacant
im left winded