put me away they

all the pain in my body i was

talking to myself¬†they won’t put me

away i seem to be okay i

gotta full time job the only chemical

in my system is caffeine

they won’t put me away

 

i gotta therapist i

got a yoga class a bunch of misfit friends

and family though they live so far

away they won’t put me

away

 

i got an imagination that’s my favorite part my

greatest strength my best asset my one

talent i think i’ll write it

down and make it

real

this town

this town

In this town unlike other towns all the people wanna get laid. All the people. In this town they all go to the library. It is a very small town, so the library is the only edifice and serves every function. But nobody gets married or divorced. The library has no books, only magazines. The magazines must all be obscene to stay in circulation. There are no pictures only words. There are no children in this town, and never were. Nobody leaves this town, by choice. This town has a finite beginning and a finite ending. It ends when the last of them is dead. This town is kept very clean, all the streets I mean. There are no dogs, and no cats. But plenty of platinum fish. Nobody does drugs. This town is very strange, unless you live there. There are no hospitals. If you get sick they will take care of you, and if they get sick you will take care of them. Intuitively. Nobody lies in this town. There is mayhem but only one night a week, after dinner, and if you want some you walk into the field of mayhem where everyone who wants mayhem, has it. The rest usually watch and cheer them on. People may get hurt or killed, but only by accident. At night everyone comes out to drumming, lights candles and stands silent in a circle. They listen to the wind. They see one another. Then they go to bed to a bugle playing taps. It’s a really sacred moment, it really is. I made it up.

untitled. not the news

Took a crescent wrench to the mind

a mechanical problem surfaced

those dead all came alive by my side

we dreamed of my arrival

faucet drips and flouride cleans the porcelain

the news it turns me inside out

gone to watch the birds without eyes

just to listen

just to be still and breathe

Oddity #5

I was grown from the earth, in my mother whose very life depended on the earth, the vegetables pushing out of mineral soil.

I faced the sun gave life to the plants, like another plant was i. For when the sun fell, again and again i found my head down in the dark, gaze to the ground, eyelashes a flutter then clasped shut for the night.

Many a fire came over my soul, burning through all of my being. For a time, as a child, they tried to put me out. Still i burned. Incendiary. Until natural i burned myself out.

Only the rain that emboldened the soil to create its next wonder, could put out our fires.

Like a period puts out a sentence.
Like a woman puts out a candle.
Like a man puts out a hunger.

Like poetry and prayer extinguish the thirst.

Oddity #2

A coil of snake
A timing belt
A wristwatch laptop
A retrograde mercury
An antidote suspension
A spinning rim
A whirling dervish
A soy latté
A golden parachute
A pandemic
A pantheist
A bad hair day
An oil slick
An egg