Shine all you want sun, you still won’t touch me. Pray all you want, the blessings won’t bend the will of the world. The wind rises, the ache expounds upon its thesis, pain the way flesh navigates the music of the spheres. I don’t say, and no ones asking. Just the clock and the calendar playing telephone pole as the train pulls away. Flipping through...
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The day goes on and on, like it’s cornered you at a party. The day just keeps at you, like some guy you’re going to deck. It makes the hard pitch, it has the patter and the pressure, but it doesn’t make the sale. The sun slips away, well past the point when it’s almost gone, it has tipped out leaving the sky aflame as...
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I went outside to look for the moon, to see the moon and think of you besides. The sky all stars and silhouettes, the scrub pines and hedge cypress against the light washed night. But the moon was missing, and you were too, though I didn’t expect to see you. Even the moon avoids me, even the stars take a pass. The night too far...
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In the age of flagrancy there is little that is revelatory, the moon from the blue, the books in the red. The buried bloom, the bared root. The teeth that have never shown for smiles, the heart that wants for some other tautology. Office holders openly advocate murdering their constituents while others in the government sit shiva as accessories, stealing, and sucking the nation dry....
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The beat down gets busy once it knows where you sleep. It falls on you in the softened darkness of the room where you scratch at sleep, it hits you in your dreams and days, it strikes out of your eyes in the mirror. This pain begins the slow estrangement, the false duality of body and mind, the brain there to cool your blood as...
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This is the light that comes to pass, this is the blinding sun through the windshield. This is the light loosed at last, the arrival of the fiery horizon. The doves stalled upon the fence, the sparrows busy in the yard. This is the city never known, the crowded crosswalks and the fitful traffic. No heady sense of purpose ringing from the bones, no draw...
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There’s always tomorrow I say, only having ever known today and the vast, vanishing past. I crawl out of bed before I’m finished sleeping, I don’t get started until I’m through. Time is always talking trash behind my back, laughing like god at the plans I never bother making. All dread and drama and misplaced commas. All supply and demand and mapped out last stands....
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The words still dance though no one is looking. The trees still sway with wind and crows. The lonely rooms are just as empty, the windows stare out unblinking. There’s kids and cars and the lilt of laughter, the yard strewn with weeds and bones. The days move swiftly, the nights are brutal. The heart beats on, unloved and alone. Looking back is like looking...
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Gone are the days of hunger artists, the hunger workers having cornered the market, cardboard signs and societal declines correlating quite nicely on the charts. Hit records that don’t quite hit so hard, and dancers loosed without a card. The bygone skies of lucid hues now all bare bones blue, the confessions of derelictions now all not mes it’s yous. Despite the local flyboys and...
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The hours of exposition pass, and the hours of introspection are put on hold, swallowing every dying tide. Cobwebs and spotted mirrors, the sounds of fans and trains. Tequila burning in the belly, branches scratching at the window, the overcast sky full of ominous light. The most recent wounds won’t stop mouthing off, and the shower seems a million miles away. The moon took to...
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