(2014)
if ever someone is my dearest ear who hears my truth as theirs
shall we turn down the covers, crawl inside? find there a place that’s been waiting for us, a vortex of sorts
webwomb’s not the maker of me. came into it as falling is done. down, only always
now, I’m no Bukowski but my friends who don’t like poet… except his stuff, tell me they like mine, and I can drink like a drinking machine
unspeakable dearth of nutrient the cause of the complaint, lack of the sweet titmilk of human connection,
man, it’s hard to come down from impossible hopes seemingly
may be too onerous a task for those not starving. lucky
lie still. be quiet. please understand what happens so, next time
why is nothing i can do now. where it went. what that echo means, if anything
root it out the tiny bit left that says someone’s in charge not you. don’t let it live
Fieldwizards and firetops. Wobblybirds on snowflowers. Chilled milk and chowder for the little prince. Mothercake for mumbled thanks.
just remember we are so much more than words. shadows are beautiful too but let’s not
reflecting on the moment before, would be useful only were it not already perfect.
this being we are, delights in all things, yes but is held breathless
something you need makes you its bitch, yes even as it isn’t coming, no when love stands you up & all the more sweet
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