I dont think I have seen it before

It came around recently

drawing circles

erasing absurd shapes

that

don’t yet

have names

but every morning

as soon

as

you

pull

yourself

from the sheets

this circle comes up

like a target

that

i

can

not

quite

reach.

it moves too quickly.

Drawing

Where did you get that line?

You draw it each day

and i can’t tell if

you just

purchased it or came with it.

Because I said I would.

You can smell the birds in this tent

Miss Kelly

Madame Carrie

Jeremy and Ben at the Burnt Toast

Laura and Quinn have an adorable new kitten.

While You Were Out.

While You Were Out

fucking all the other ideas

that aren’t your own

did you happen to take a glimpse

at all the ideas you’ve already wandered

and notice how those perfect stones were

set just fine without

you moving them in eight hundred directions

in order to find the “right place” which was

really

actually

the worst place you could have put that

but it’s okay

because needs are needs

but when

you placed

that

tuna can

inside of

the minnow

pond

and set them free

i fucking thought you were insane.

even i’d done that before.

it is here somewhere, it grows here…

“Ich weiss nicht, was soll es bedeuten, Dass ich so traurig bin; Ein Marchen aus alten Zieten, Das kommt mir nicht aus dem Sinn” or rather…
“I know not why I am so sad; I can not get out of my head a fairy-tale of olden times” -Heinrich Heine

…The yearning for beauty or confusion or speed overcomes me as I stare into beautiful mismatched stones wishing they were commonplace, or an other place… in a city of incompalibility that screams from my lungs-Oh, how I love it so! With skyscrapers, and cousins of skyscrapers and brownstones and sisters of them, parks…strange and tranquil. The conversation, quick and filled, sporadic and genuine, and here..in this wasteland where my seat lands, the quiet with silence so muted the crickets themselves can not speak over a whisper and the silence continues, and the shuffle, shuffles awkwardly on…and the yearning does not stop.

Sift Through

(dedicated to both my Mother & Father)

I suppose you could call it a few things
Strange definitely being one of them
With the loud man eating sounds
Of disposition
And the lack of normal function
In the dungeon sound study
Which reminds of a nuclear safety
Hole of a past age
And I beg it brings you
The freedom, which you are searching for
As the city bustles with aggression
And false hope,
Smog gorgeous to the eye
And noxious to the touch
Like so many civilians
Scattered about the streets,
They appear made of gold
And crumble at the next glance
And the rats here!
The dead ones
The poisoned
The live,
Brought upon by god
And wiped away by a mix of
Men and arsenic
The stench as it sticks to your feet
While the compassion, still outweighs
But see the cities system of functions!
There are no homeless now,
As they go un-bathed in rooms
With no sun
Where only drunks now inhabit
Where they used to lie covering the sidewalks
In blankets, chatter, and limbs
And still, and always
Smog and discomfort
Plague the streets and the brows of our foreheads
Feet forming to flatness
Ears planning out deafness
And minds conforming to a constant rush

Its strange the paradise it continues to be and

A mirage that they actually get by here