I can’t sleep and it’s all your fault.
1.
They came back you know,
tried to prescribe me some “sedative-hypnotic”;
which just made every second like
acupuncture with rusted needles.
My brain beat out the narcotic;
renamed it “seductive-hypnosis”.
Now, I rely on these oval sleepy-candies
to get me through the day,
and insomnia channeled through
static to muddle me on past the night.
2.
Worn and tethered;
torn and weathered.
The urge to drive –
not tonight,
no, not tonight.
I miss falling asleep in the morning,
I miss waking up.
Curl up and shiver with me,
like me;
die a little more with each breath
too.
I haven’t slept in months
and it’s all your fault.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Hydro Jen
1.
Infomercials are false prophets.
Evil stories with unresolved endings.
You are an infomercial.
My heart wanted to go to you,
my feet were reluctant to follow;
my heart always wins.
2.
In an array of scents,
none of them were you –
I caught the scent of
your life running away
from you.
3.
Like a playful puppy,
I was too excited to sit still,
so I sliced my stomach open
and gave birth to blood.
4.
I’m hoping one day
you’ll miss my tweed coat
that never kept you warm…
5.
Driving while heartbroken,
I scream out from my heart
what I couldn’t say to you.
I’m just asking you
to hang in there with me
a little longer.
Friday, December 18, 2009
On . Way
1.
Wave next time…
you scared me away
so you could sleep me
to forgotten.
2.
Pretend that you’re carsick,
choke the life out of
a bouquet of flowers,
and soften the blow
with saw blades.
3.
I reversed your home’s interior;
my best friends became
arterial sprayed walls
and their cryptic corners
beneath the shadows.
You were sleeping,
dreaming alone on an electric beach
where static
waves collided
over pixilated grains of sand
while I was being bombarded
with blizzards
on the far side of the sun,
writing a suicide note
that ended
with
“hello”
Wave next time…
you scared me away
so you could sleep me
to forgotten.
2.
Pretend that you’re carsick,
choke the life out of
a bouquet of flowers,
and soften the blow
with saw blades.
3.
I reversed your home’s interior;
my best friends became
arterial sprayed walls
and their cryptic corners
beneath the shadows.
You were sleeping,
dreaming alone on an electric beach
where static
waves collided
over pixilated grains of sand
while I was being bombarded
with blizzards
on the far side of the sun,
writing a suicide note
that ended
with
“hello”
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Her Tongue Walks
Look out
Into oblivion;
Nothing hurts more than
Distancing this divison.
Somewhere, I'll find you again,
Lying again(st)
Evergreens, but will
You ever come back to me?
sometime, I'll find you again.
Into oblivion;
Nothing hurts more than
Distancing this divison.
Somewhere, I'll find you again,
Lying again(st)
Evergreens, but will
You ever come back to me?
sometime, I'll find you again.
Alien Suburb (*Kubla Khan)
Alien Suburb (*Kubla Khan)
1.
Red in the sky
means red on the ground.
I let my dreams defeat me
in the core
of a dripping earth.
The wren on the cactus
with the silly hat;
*Five miles meandering
With a mazy motion…*
you puny, dehydrated
abstraction of me.
2.
My brain abruptly
stopped
producing melatonin –
scratching the root
of my eye
with pointy fingernails.
Dark is the truth
and its why you dwell
in the light of a lie.
Gently pluck
these flowers
from the sky
like teeth
out of my skull.
“What’s that?”
…Its one of many things,
but I’ll tell you what its not
*Samuel Taylor Coleridge: Kubla Khan or, A Vision in a Dream: A Fragment (1816)
1.
Red in the sky
means red on the ground.
I let my dreams defeat me
in the core
of a dripping earth.
The wren on the cactus
with the silly hat;
*Five miles meandering
With a mazy motion…*
you puny, dehydrated
abstraction of me.
2.
My brain abruptly
stopped
producing melatonin –
scratching the root
of my eye
with pointy fingernails.
Dark is the truth
and its why you dwell
in the light of a lie.
Gently pluck
these flowers
from the sky
like teeth
out of my skull.
“What’s that?”
…Its one of many things,
but I’ll tell you what its not
*Samuel Taylor Coleridge: Kubla Khan or, A Vision in a Dream: A Fragment (1816)
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
The Con-dish on her
I don't know what happened;
My jaw used to be a jagged
shard of glass spackled with blood.
Notoriously unbreakable.
But now, it's a pliable
And frail material of conformity -
Just like me.
And as I collect beautiful objects
in an arid desert,
I salt upon your remains
and lightly sprinkle them into a stew.
2a.
Going into shock
over nothing you said,
building a house of marbles
with marble glue.
"You're a beautiful guy,
But I'm so used
To the one I have."
And you're a dazzling dream -
But I'm so used
My jaw used to be a jagged
shard of glass spackled with blood.
Notoriously unbreakable.
But now, it's a pliable
And frail material of conformity -
Just like me.
And as I collect beautiful objects
in an arid desert,
I salt upon your remains
and lightly sprinkle them into a stew.
2a.
Going into shock
over nothing you said,
building a house of marbles
with marble glue.
"You're a beautiful guy,
But I'm so used
To the one I have."
And you're a dazzling dream -
But I'm so used
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