There’s a gun in my mind that
I’m only just starting to learn how to unload.

coiled and tense, hand on the trigger
since age 12.

Something been screaming at me
from the audience longer than memory


but lately,
a whispering from backstage

(let go)


mask off so I can see your eyes
brutally exposed you ugly beautiful
creature, glorious
in your imperfections, I want
to rip off your armor so
your skin can

taste the sun

there is no damage that can be
done to you without resurrection

you fall so you can fly
this universe the bird mother that
keeps shoving you from
the nest until you

remember what your wings are for.



Hit full trance state so many times at Dutch Zouk these past couple weeks.  I had to wake up to reality at the end of the night every time.


brain’s footprints over
vertebrae, ribs, scapula
blood and


salt dissolved in water
dream dissolved in sleep

floating above a bowl
of star soup

outstretched limbs to
stir nebulae

(could hold you forever

until this world ends and the next begins)


Star soup

Looking around myself, like damn, NONE of you could handle the full force of my affection.

(Notable exceptions.)


Poem to follow but I’m on my phone and can’t format well.

crazy’s just a word I make my bed in

insist the water is not for me

the salt will catch under eyelids
the sand will scrape me

of course one is safe
if one stays in bed

Lovecage is an oxymoron.

I dreamed I found a teacher or
who would walk the path with me
that no one else would.

someone who would walk me
past the cage, up the

and end this cycle.


How are we going to heal our trauma in such a restrictive society?  We need to scream and throw paint at the walls.


Twice I’ve let go like that with soberbrain (not crazy or under any influence) and it was with hippies both times.