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Poems

A Portion of Automatic and a Dash of Anger

let the grease drip from jaw to collarbone

wish that nothing ever happened in the ways that they did

unopened cereal boxes are on the front lawn for the infants to eat and then curl up and die in

humans developed this concept for the sole purpose of being self-absorbed

the tendencies can be either self-deploring or narcissistic in nature, the intent is always the same

my fingers tasted like bloody grass

on the outside, on the inside

the paper cuts made thin incisions into my lungs

I don’t know when it’s gonna’ happen but when it does

I’m gonna’ be buried in the sand with geese flying sideways overhead

there were more bars in the town we grew up in than trashcans out in the street

three identical corpses of my former nemesis lay in the same road

I don’t know what any of it means

left the hinges bare the paper trailed thin

hold the death-cake to the ear of the incompetent

I gave my brain radiation for you

when I look up

smelling a different scent

I want it now more than ever

another costly ride

the photographs on the wall

are ominously yellow with time

I’ll come to never see you again in black peace

Categories
Poems

Blue Time

Do you know the noise of the early morning? All the nothing

the screensaver rescuing the mind from sleep but still wandering.

All the wires tangled on the floor. Not many, but still disorienting.

It must be room temperature outside. Inside your head it’s all hot and sticky.

I don’t know how you feel tonight, or any night. Everything seems frozen.

The atmosphere is not a result of the humidity; it’s only something wrong with your receptors.

Earlier in the evening I was looking at clouds. I was not being facetious when I told you of the peculiar shapes they made.

I don’t want you to be in that place without me; I feel like you’re not telling me what you’re really thinking about sometimes.

I feel like a child.

I’ve had enough of this so that’s why I have to leave here and be with you.

I feel like we see each other and ourselves in varied ways at different points in time although we always remain connected.

I can live with you being whichever way you are

I know you know the noise of the early morning. The blue time, it permeates through the both of us, not just you.

The nothing is everything. We may sometimes get tired of our identical screen-savers,

but we keep them because we’re so used to them. We need them for sleep.

They have become routine parts of our lives.

Is it the sound of bells that you enjoy? Get back to me on that as well because I’m not quite sure.

I think you do. Whenever we walk around the city I notice the comfort sneaking inside. One day we will have peace.

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