water song

There are seeds afoot
trees dying aloft
lost kids looking
to join with
looking kids lost.

There is an upward welling
grief with no thought
not to dis-spell or navigate
nor a chemical whispered drip

no where to fore
no neutral neural return
aside from an averse
tilting of the bubble

Level.
Balance.
Only relationships
states of dancing asymptotes.

The key cannot see
for eyes tend to line
yet making dew
with plausible thunder
we move as a chorus
inside, outside and under.

union in deuces

She asked a simple question
silence filled his mouth
with eyes and ears
no memory
no fruit.

A gilded cage rattler
turning on while
seen by other travels.
Asked about vacancy
disguised as occupied.

Longing rushed in for
what had never been
on blasted ground
inside where love on the make
of molten hate rushes
confronting comfort vested
inheriting a golden laced crown of fleas
over bloody iron
melting morph
spilling in
king of cups

toward greater risk
an aster blooms within
coadunation
no thing    together
induced, quickened
let’s let what’s real
slowly burn it all
down.

Inn Orphan Ate

They, so young.
Curving past gas clouds
stretching apart and easy
convivially drawn
blown ~ gone.
Great saturation
less restriction
the best offense is
guided toward borg

striving for halvsies
sand’s box blinding

grown kid’s hate
has become
our children’s adulterant.

thought landfills 1

Wading through garbage
tidal messaging ocean
aging mess
chaffing the mass
the dead eaten alive.

We’re asked to become
in resistant formatting
the plow, the pencil
razor-like.

Or assimilate
receive countless transmissions
while counting reception
new pathways, oh
are born.

Just because we’re shown
maps of programming
we’re not yet unprone
the forgetting is memorably constant.

Formicarium

Telegraph arrives when I’ll be up in the severe early morning. This mind finds
no hooks for sleigh bells of discontent,
humming hard like a fluorescent light ballast.

Puts my body in whim, it’d like a run of inquiries to search into fractals,
find another world under influence.

See something’s been taken in on an impression rising like a city skyline fed by surrounding boroughs. Lights flicker pastoral morse code-
receive awareness from future genes aiding the hatch.

So I sit propped against this black headboard while the moon pulls a hair to rise, spoken in ant legs on my ear. There is no end to these cities,
sleep be generous for these wrested mycelial routes.

Fears of Hiding

You’ve been seen
Hiding in your niche
Fabricating expertise
Rubbing one out in the weeds
You’re
Spotted
in the tall grass.
Company of one with the brass to boot
Enmeshing mouth of blab.

Power to the people
Who give you what you want
All front
You haven’t cried real tears in years
Even then your sputterings
An utterance of a moments mood
Forever dressing
Forever rehearsing
An end to the hypnotic veil
Ride’s over for this asymptotic mythic rail.