Burning up
in our state of mind
purple and blue
ribbons of time
ancient customs
orphans of wisdom
we are analogous
to three hundred symphonies
a world of horizons
and the next season’s infamy
I am a soldier
of numbers and letters
and letting my mind go
is some crazy, mean machine
I would read magazines
sold under papers
as warbling street boys
sold out of their ovaltine
I am a demon
who’s toying with emptiness
while I imagine
that I am some visionless,
sellout envisaged in gold, satin lover’s skin
the dots of a jaguar made me believe in you
I told you whispers
of alacrity, secrecy
the tremulous tales
of bears in the wilderness
ending emotions
is easy on paper
but you closed my eyes
to escape from your arms
and as you clutched me
and split me wide open
I cried out for heaven
and saints of antipathy
cradle your sweat
in the heart of a celibate
and forgive all these demons
for their emphatic trickery
because when I wake I know
I made a decision
to be real today
to be real tomorrow
because the air I breathe
is the air you breathe
But it’s easy
to believe
in air.

as my hair fizzles
a dragon breathes into me
and I see the world

I feel silly
mourning the loss of a mind
and as I sit in this gray box
within a greater gray box
I write my poetry
on tiny notepapers
with a red pen
a sad, romantic spectacle, to be sure
what do I write for?
a diversion from these treasure maps?
for some lost love, far away?
or perhaps for myself.
either way
I seem to be running
low on paper and red ink
without having left
a single mark in red
on my enveloping gray
or on the world outside it

It’s been too long
since I’ve heard this song
but back then
the lyrics made more sense
and you weren’t sitting here
unwelcome in my bed

My feet beat out
some truncated tune
while you play distended notes
on the abscess of my chest
they tell me I’m a traitor
but I play the part well enough
while the liquids of my body
are screaming out in electric bursts
you are not welcome here
you are not welcome here
you are not welcome here
as they’re wasted again
on someone I won’t think about
as later, I wash them away

When we look back
laughter will come easily
life was so hard then
so scary, so silly
but in the future things are simple
and just as we always hoped they would be
or so we imagine
sharing our illusion
your message asks only this
won’t it be wonderful when we are alive?

she collects magazines
in her socks
and sells her words
for an easy way out
she craves direction
because her clocks
can’t stop pointing north
with their analog faces
and desperate chimes
they proclaim
the weather is fair
and the world is just
yet we remain
unconvinced

happy birthday, lady of the 80’s
your name came up
and I couldn’t help thinking
that I miss you more than ever
and I still don’t know why
I broke your heart
all those years ago
you slipped through my fingers
And my hands haven’t grasped anything since
so they ball into fists
and I let sky explode
With ashen eyes
you used to peel my skin
and we were close
on those burning nights
as the world shook and shattered all around
I used to hold you
but my hands are empty
and I refuse to believe
that I am 3000 miles away
and will never see you again

I am unbroken
by your chastening glances
and when you found me
I was a young man
I needed guidance
but you showed me how
I never thought this was simple
but I tied the line
and brought crumbled earth on my chest
felt her tears, empty and breathless
and as the the trills and dips surrounded me
I felt the world push back
and together we sway

We both knew we were meant for this
and when we were born
it grabbed us
and we swam every ocean
aren’t you lonely
and don’t you need someone
to tell you it’s over now
to tell you we’re going home
I’ve felt the waters
and I’ve opened my eyes
and I am free now
I am free now
and I see what it is
to be alive

When the first one tore into you
it blew your heart into my room
and as the world, it cut right through you
You were freed from its cocoon

Because we’re weaving these bright pictures
on your mother’s sacred loom
and the visions are so pretty
as they leave their holy wounds

While the air, it twirls around you
as you dance and as you spin
I begin to carve your likeness
into this old, forgotten tomb

Oh your heart, it is so pretty
why can’t you break it more
so I can come and mend it
and as I knock upon your door
I plan to sew my name in golden script

So when your heart beats in the morning
to the tune of gold velour
you will feel me all around you
and be enchanted by the score
As we dance all in the moonlight
you will want me to be yours
And as your heart beats never-ending
I will be your paramour