Poetry: Interrogative

Generate me some Prophesy
with your Crew-cut Clipboard
I fear becoming an orchid
before my time is up.
Blinks twice
(a suggestion of narcissism?)
or only a Hit and Run.

I've stolen so many bases.
I feel dizzy and sick.
Can't remember my dreams,
only stale blanket smells
and
A Knowing Glance
and
Take two before bed.

Poetry: New Things

I've Cut my self
Free & Clear of Present
Awareness, dwindled.
Drops of disphasic
Numerical Significance
Utopia Enslaved to
Power Lines. Binary Code.
Unequivocal Equivalencies
Absentminded Vacations of
Ethereal Future Spending

Hush, Now.
I have not budgeted time for this
Reality.  I will write it in for
Tuesday's the day everything will
Cave in.  I'm paranoid but I'm
told that's healthy nowadays.

Hush, Now.
It's important to be goal Minded,
Dead as the wire in my brain
Letting out little drops of blood
Tap, tap, tap. I miss missing.
Put me back in the closet, I'm
working things out. I haven't
given up, just switched brands.

I'm trying out zebra stripes
and BDSM.  I'm pissing with the light
off so I can reminisce about the water.
Falls of my childhood.
I collect the wrong kinds of pain.
I'm looking for something quick and
Brutal, Something to
Render me awake so I might dream.

Poetry: The Western Bodhisattva

Open your dead white eyes and say something re-le-vant.

The East is so romantic (I feel enlightened by Tienemen Square.)

I can disprove the existence of God because without without….

Loneliness is the sound of one hand clapping, beating against—

 the wire thin fragility of Walmart smiles (you call this creativity?)

One plus one plus one plus one is less than one lonely hand….

Please don’t try to explode things with the power of your mind.

Just hold them in your mouth until your tongue turns Black.

Why are the parts most susceptible to hemorrhage considered lovely?

Lovely is as a flower petal curled under a wet pink wyrd.

A secret you should know is that I keep no secrets, only mysteries.

A secret you should know is that there are no secrets,

Only the interpenetration of hissing fingers and lovely sores

Clasped together, white knuckled and smiling.