con.jure

the ghosts of poets

arise from the marshes they
trudge to their post

abandoned cabins moored to the foggy
coast

portraits peel off
the walls. unread books crestfallen
to the bare floor

how much life was lost

here? to honor the word

may i conjure you now
at your most glorious
to speak?

to help fight this

useless feeling

im.print

when i live
crafting these poems of words i
forge my peace with
language

the sun burns on
imprinting shadows
and the dreams oh

the feelings anchored to thoughts
keep me dreaming

as i type across
our time and
space

we gen x

we gen x in the shadow
of the boom

we subjected to vietnam era
rerun documentary
our own stories gunned
down with jfk

they got so worried
during the second war
they waited for victory
to procreate

the grandparents
in shell shock reverie
of d.day
we gen x in the shadow
of the boom

we eat astronaut ice
cream and toy with the key
hung off the neck
by a string

mtv lashes out lovely
by light and sound so
we paint the basement walls
all night. under

the influence

bumping our heads
on the deep cut

we gen x
in the shadow of the boom
our thumbs blistered
by joysticks inside the impossible
space

hidden in the slant
of the attic and papered
walls

sky

i am inside and i wanna get
out. i gotta go
get into a fix

life
gives no sanctuary
but in the
living. what i got
i created. i gave it! your will
was mine! i snatched it back
i clung to it

then it disappeared
i was alone. i got older
and could not believe
so much time had
passed

i wanna go out! get lost in
a cloud i am
inside. i’m not afraid to run barefoot
cut up alot in a city
scape

i oughta. this whole scene is dangerous
soft factory air makes me. i
am inside out

fuck it. gimme a map
the closest emergency
exit. i will take it!

break the controls off bad
and i gotta get out
of my head and the news
is so terrible

not another screen
i need something to believe
in. the sky

the give and take

my tired eyes tracked the screen for some intrigue on

the only holiday that had the guts to tell you what to do

 

i was thankful

for the day off and some time to myself

 

a film tapped into the part of me

wanted more outta life

you’re excellent when you’ve

something to prove

 

i asked my phone

remind me in 2 hours

to call somebody i love

 

 

 

30

friday pushed through the pain

saturday flopped around 

a video game

 

the front over the pacific

hit the coastline hard

wake up your life!

hissed the surf

of salt whip cream

 

sleepy sundays broke up

the years

 

again

we put ourselves out there

for whatever it was worth