Saturday 12/15/2012 12:54:00 AM

paths. the empty air releases us. the hunger of the abyss overcomes. gravity always wins. I'm just alone. as i wanted to be. carving the paper into friends. struggling with the scissors. fussing with the threads. dining on the puke of optimists.

sleeping. dead skin soils the sheets. dreaming. thick with the burden of reality.

i was a poet. simple and willing to be lost. but this world hasn't any use for such frivolities. i was alive. thick and red with science of a failing art. but the math overtook me.

there are many ways to die. but few as so slow as this. the whisper of the world in every pore. my powerlessness in every bead of sweat.

she chases the hill. heavy buckets fuel her optimism. she stumbles. their weight too much. their distance impossible to ignore.

ice cream cones melting in her grip. sweet sugar running down her wrist. leaking faucets. dirty dishes in the sink.

she wears the faces of her gods thought they hardly fit. rigid helmets with minimal perceptive.

lost plays ironic. knowing found is selfish. monkeys in their tuxedos. trading stories with predators and poets.

the time machine arose organic. the femoral condition of passive soldiers. the winter came. hard dick penetrating the virgin. content with alone after the stab.

the layers were thin. simple answers to complex questions. since that is what we've always been. skunks on the shoulder. mangled by the rush of traffic. lingering int the intersection.  foul and hungry

the beautiful collision of time and circumstance.

she wears the world. in peaks and stabs. an empty bottle. ripe with windows. that cannot be openend.

the whims of atoms. the hunger of molecules. simple storms. impossible to predict.

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