casablanca

speaking of which

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just back on that rabbit trail

#metoo
 
 
Oh.. so you’re afraid of us now? The way we’ve been afraid of you for the last 2 thousand? Cool. It feels good to be feared instead of raped.
 
I would never falsely accuse anyone nor do I condone it. But it feels good to be feared, regardless. Maybe y’all will stop yelling at us on the street if we respond by snarling and baring our teeth.

(found in my storage bin)

crash
crash
crash

if you aren’t falling
you haven’t pushed yourself
to the edge

build your house on the
side of a cliff
because it’s the only way
the ocean
smells like
home

close enough if you’re
close enough to break me

want to fall bent necked and
bloody footed
teeth sunk into dandelions

atmosphere through a straw
taste the moon,
eat the sun.

I wanna stare God in the face

and translate her spine
into

something unambiguous.

tell me yes no maybe

you said I can’t take shortcuts to enlightenment, and this manic episode is like daily taking those kinda drugs, the ones the hippies take.

I say I don’t know.

 

I still don’t know what I’m on.  But it feels real so I’ma keep riding this wave.

 

 

 

 

ask

I dance the rainwashed
streets,

the poetry of
a mad god, alive and
dangerous

you are frightened by my
rabid eggshell heart,

by the way I
inhabit heaven and hell
nearly simultaneously
half light, half anguish.

asleep, you dream of setting fire to
airplanes, killing a legion of
those slicing sky-birds

I am barefoot and knocking for
your voice.

do not refuse me.

 

Dedicated to everyone who’s boundaries I violated while manic. You know i love you boo.

 

I need to get to India ASAP.  The new world is starting there and I’m going to have the dopest Indian wedding ever.

welcome the summer

Twenty First Century Violence

the wails could be heard for miles
like the far off fog-bite of finality, the slow churn of
dirty bathwater.

tenderness is a surprising favor
that night did not grant us. bruises crystallize
beautiful, thin-webbed and graceful. Dark and brutal. No one would wear this voluntarily,
we didn’t.

what is an ending?
spilled milk, broken cage,
something sharp and blood covered

winter was a mutual drowning,
where the wailing claw of reality
left a crust on the rim of every champagne glass.

Spring is pain evolving into light
a universe of old weakness
exploding into stars

I awoke to watch you drink directly from the sun and now
I am begging you to run away with me while
we still have the strength to claw ourselves skyward.

This was an expensive year for both of us.
the future stumbles indoors and cannot recognize his own brilliance
the past gave us teeth and
when he comes knocking,
prepare to bite down.

Hard.