Skip tracked old school like
forgetting fire hydrants are still on like
ice cream cones don't melt like
eating everything edible is like
purchase is Summer as though there's nothing like
wearing new sneakers is nothing like
you never knew me like blue can shine like
everything could be termed in plastic like
there is no cut for the verse lik
there is no clasp for these clowns like
everybody get some bodies like
oh no, oh no, oh no like
maybe sometimes we should cover faces like
maybe dirt can do what it does like
grave robbing, rave stomping like
run like you've never before because like
sixteen bits, and a remote and grape jelly like
super coming on like a bad song and good intentions
like we were and still is like our only thing is like
play the H and play with hate
like our only mission is like
being the last or the first or just the noted like
I had this dream against the seams to be
you know me like
we had a plan from the beginning and
I've got you dead to rights.
original works of parts
Exit 11 (by the underpass beneath the mattress)
Where do you go when you go away from me?
For hours un end?
You mean on end.
I would love to tell you
someday when the flowers are back in bloom.
Have you seen the honeysuckle off Exit 11?
Smelled like breakfast in bed
inside a gondola on a hillside
off of Exit 11.
You talking about 367?
Nope.
Silence is golden.
So was middle school.
You hated middle school.
I know.
For hours un end?
You mean on end.
I would love to tell you
someday when the flowers are back in bloom.
Have you seen the honeysuckle off Exit 11?
Smelled like breakfast in bed
inside a gondola on a hillside
off of Exit 11.
You talking about 367?
Nope.
Silence is golden.
So was middle school.
You hated middle school.
I know.
The Comedian
I do not watch the news anymore.
Coffee still tastes the same,
though I've never seriously enjoyed it.
A lie.
I do. I did.
Life of late has been
a deeply nested dream and I keep waking up
to the last shell
since high school.
I could imagine myself corrected
like the scene in that movie when they are tearing
down the highway into sunrise and
the camera pans upward
to trained Howitzer barrels
ten meters long
begging fingers for triggers.
I cannot lift
these days
without asking myself what I am training for.
All around us, weapons. If you care to love about it.
I keep waking up,
taking little stocks.
Finger to the knuckle. Connection okay.
Palm to the wrist. Connection okay.
Light to eye nerve. Connection okay.
Lid to eye. Connection okay.
Jaw to skull. Connection okay.
Hips to vertebrae. Connection okay.
The checklist goes and finishes and
enters concert.
Another day, the apparent thought
being no one has killed me yet.
And as it turns over,
the engine coughing before humming,
I know I have another 16 hours to do
and another eight to gift
to you.
Coffee still tastes the same,
though I've never seriously enjoyed it.
A lie.
I do. I did.
Life of late has been
a deeply nested dream and I keep waking up
to the last shell
since high school.
I could imagine myself corrected
like the scene in that movie when they are tearing
down the highway into sunrise and
the camera pans upward
to trained Howitzer barrels
ten meters long
begging fingers for triggers.
I cannot lift
these days
without asking myself what I am training for.
All around us, weapons. If you care to love about it.
I keep waking up,
taking little stocks.
Finger to the knuckle. Connection okay.
Palm to the wrist. Connection okay.
Light to eye nerve. Connection okay.
Lid to eye. Connection okay.
Jaw to skull. Connection okay.
Hips to vertebrae. Connection okay.
The checklist goes and finishes and
enters concert.
Another day, the apparent thought
being no one has killed me yet.
And as it turns over,
the engine coughing before humming,
I know I have another 16 hours to do
and another eight to gift
to you.
Working With Renae has Been a Nose Bleed
The cats on my tin roof are sticky hot.
That's why I'm up there with a push broom.
The wide bristles work well, you know?
Because they're dead. They stick a lot,
gutter leaves in late spring and dumb smelly.
A wise man once said
"if you want something felt you've got to feel it yourself"
on the back page of a grocery store rack,
start side down to the right, in case you went there
accidentally and couldn't read without a mirror.
Sometimes you wait for rain and
sometimes you dance. Play the iffdler. Sunny side up and
white side down. Until it browns. And clarity turns
into another breakfast falling into the back of a spoon and
"I don't get you"s.
The fish have been high lately.
I think they know what's been up with you
and want to say "hey, you tried," but
it keeps coming out like
"more breadcrumbs, please, thanks."
I don't know when I started feeding them.
My eyes have been getting hard again.
Dispassionate, I can forgive. Dissonance, however,
sounds like a personal problem. Hold out the bag,
this one's pretty stuck. I can't hear you up here.
That's why I'm up there with a push broom.
The wide bristles work well, you know?
Because they're dead. They stick a lot,
gutter leaves in late spring and dumb smelly.
A wise man once said
"if you want something felt you've got to feel it yourself"
on the back page of a grocery store rack,
start side down to the right, in case you went there
accidentally and couldn't read without a mirror.
Sometimes you wait for rain and
sometimes you dance. Play the iffdler. Sunny side up and
white side down. Until it browns. And clarity turns
into another breakfast falling into the back of a spoon and
"I don't get you"s.
The fish have been high lately.
I think they know what's been up with you
and want to say "hey, you tried," but
it keeps coming out like
"more breadcrumbs, please, thanks."
I don't know when I started feeding them.
My eyes have been getting hard again.
Dispassionate, I can forgive. Dissonance, however,
sounds like a personal problem. Hold out the bag,
this one's pretty stuck. I can't hear you up here.
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