everyone around you is greiving

Month: January, 2008

i began telling stories in my dreams

started outright and familiar

drew neon buildings out of thin air

danced like godzilla danced
and flew over bridges – under

i crawled backwards invisible
stoic like ox on plains

i stopped time to make notes for future dreams
opened doors without keys but eyes

my aura like water
kept everything cool
as cats

like spider man and kerouac

ready for the world


i hid my dream-like suggestions

in dostoyevsky titled postcards

and shuffled like stingrays
my bucketful of inkblots
into tired notebooks the same

i tried to hang myself with
the umbilical cord
that grew out of the
spark from your eyelashes
in the rain
that night i kissed you

i was on top of the eiffel fucking tower
singing a song
in my daydreams
with my magicians cape
and my
red paisley
handkerchief harmonica
when you called

i swam like pan
into that immense and

fading blue

climbed like
spider man
on a mission

stood as sturdy as
fallen trees
bent backwards

i studied like an acorn
how winter changes

i sat in the waterfall
and caught
enough internal heat

to step out of

tattooed shoes
guilt’d eyelids

i tried to broadcast our love
onto buildings
and billboards
at rush hour

i carved your aura
out of silent static
and butterfly wings

and danced like
gatsby’s guests

across night’s

brilliant ballroom


my horseback theories

have all come back to haunt me

from now on
i’ll write my words
in sand

i’ll start early
in the mornings

clean the cob from the webs
the raft from the rafter

between my safety pills
and my hurricane stride

i’m pretty god-damned sure
you’ll notice

i’ve been walking on eggshells


throw glitter

fake it

fuck it

follow the sun


the sure grip of your memory

now caramelized on sunsets

sends knobby hands to closed journals

they dare peek those ancient words
now bloodied by time

i remember how those new mornings
drove us through our adolescence

through our doom days

we wore our hatred in spools of razor wire
on wrists as sore as eyelids

like radio hymns and cactusland brushings

we hiked our sisyphus shades
like a spider’s crawl into darker pipes

we visited our euphoria
in making the road trip longer

by visiting the parks
where our love
colored the flags a hue your eyebrows withheld

as i swam your pale-blue-eyed-sad-bird-on-a-stick eulogy
into weavings of screaming nerve endings

and as we swung those swing sets through
tire swing ropes and into the abyss
we waited for love to destroy us

and as everything was in its right and proper place

we danced like pan
and glided from dusk

into thin air


regret is the mildew

i dare not wipe
off mirrors

love is the shampoo
gets in my eyes

like emptied bath tubs
closed eyes

how to step out
is stepping in

when to get wet
is what’s important


of all my half-caked anthems

i swear to god

when you fell off

the trampoline

my heart leaned




notes on chords:

forget the sharps

write from the stomach
empasize the g’s
re-nullify the silent f’s
write in packages sent
little’r words
what’s heard

not verbs


my metaphors now

get caught up
in some kind of webbing

it’s only recently i’ve been
changing my rainbow structure



my ears steer fear

from your peerless vermeer

as if lights were purely
a mirror
of this earthly sphere


towards your teeter-totter



(for andy, the swan lord)


like missouri’s fireflies

my warm hands are

wrought with black tar
and sweet sweat

there is an infinite stair case
in the basement
where the fortune tellers
have been seeping
through the walls

all the envelopes
in the house
are empty and waiting

even my nightmares
have begun to glow

their faded-paper-yellows
and hickory-hash-blacks


my last chance sonatas

were taking leagues

to furnish

so i howled like a coyote

and danced
to the sound water makes

i pushed my arms
so far into the
reclining air

that i forgot to count
my dizzy spells

i forgot to let
the avalanche

cover me


i can not walk alone enough

or harder

or faster
or freer
the bird i’m

pretending not to notice

and my shoelaces
are grimace
and the concrete is hot

it’s as if my own cross-eyed version
of love and war
are nothing but

i don’t own

and the glaring sun


my true song is loss

i wake up to it daily

i have it on repeat

i made copies
black and whites

i blew up the negatives
i started making a journal

and then i started giving up
on the specifics

i started twirling anything i held

started whistling songs
i hadn’t writ

started making plans
for the future


my hair stands up

on it’s legs

on it’s own

these days


of all my sadness

i somehow managed to convince myself

love was the answer
to the question
i dared not ask

i convinced myself
treason was to
my own guilted resolve
as mutiny is to
learned hurt

i did not know at the time
how much effort it takes
to ward off danger

i did not know

the planks i’ve walked

in dreams

i dare not visit

stand sturdy still

you have to take your clothes off first

gotta stand in the middle of the room

gotta pretend that no one notices

the color of your skin

you gotta pretend

that the photograph

isn’t as important

as the abstraction


my pure-water beard sings nothing of it’s whiskers

says nothing

of my new glass inferno

my old world accomplice
is eons but eons away

my offbeat arpeggios
sing secret whale songs

sing new birth
and old birth
the same

they sing like lost diamonds
have family

like darkness


i dreamt your sisyphus ashes

had nothing on my acrobatic slumber

that their worried numbs found callous in
the emptiest of shells

i dreamt i kept your wishes safe

chanted their silent songs
your direction for days

when my early-water clippings dissolved

i crossed out my muddied days

for the chance to jaunt about town with you

and we flew kites and it was good

funny how photographs
tell such a different story


my friend jon and i

drunk on walking cows

huddle our daydreams in a row

like pretty pots and pans
we try our damndest
to get the point across

without failure

our arrows shoot the moon

without warrant

our poems backfire

our plum drunk love stories
wait like chopped wood

and our fire hides
and our journals wait

and like clouds

and photographs

and string

we’re out there somewhere


i keep you parallel


i nurse rhymes to the beat of boots

i stare diagonal coffee shrugs over
a melancholy we once hemmed at

i make-believe whatever it was
was worth it

i creep out from under wings
sold you to the notion that
youth might not separate
us from then
us from now

either way
discussing the sadness is sad

and not that i should only call when you’re depressed

it’s just
no one listens to morrissey anymore

at least
not without reserve

and not without late nights

that almost always

have an ending


i swear i can resurrect enough dark matter

to draw your face

the color stethoscopes

see life

the sound orbits make

when you’re close to me


yr leaves are as dark as the sky

the particles are like

how filtered sun
beams in on
whatever it was

shone shiny

in the light


i painted my old world blues in browns and blacks

i painted them with silver string and with silver

i got on my knees and stretched the fucking canvas

as far as i could reach




in the years ahead

i began drawing on clouds

i’d dip my invisible brush into invisible lakes


i’d let it sit for a couple of lifetimes


just so’s

in the future i could have a reference

as to what those

blank pages

were all about


i tied my hands in a bow

i was so nervous at your wedding

i think i cried in my pants

at the ceremony
when all of us stood there
for the photographs

all of us jumping around
bottles and suits
smiles and all

we painted ourselves in pastels

drew limericks in the air of the ocean mist

we smelled something crisp
on the horizon

we tied a ribbon
to the string of the belles
that chimed in the distance


i am poetry

i am not poetry

i am waiting to resolve this

i write to resolve this

i sink sad ships

i set sail often

i sing the seagull song

i know it well


i don’t have enough tissues for the both of us


i’ve been taking sleeping pills
for years

if you can summon elvis

then we’ve got something to talk about