Who Art Thou
Not-so-pretty Pictures
Bad or Verse?
He Burns to Trip (Parental Advisory)
Have a bite to eat.
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Poetry In Lotion
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Rearview
I look at you: ugly, unkempt.
A good companion, though a tad stingy and inhospitable.
I look in your eyes: in the tiny, dark room beyond,
I see you screaming for freedom, though what freedom
you cannot tell me.
I look at your tattered hair: split ends
and frazzled locks;
emblems to your dissolving life.
I look at your faces' two weeks growth;
joined eyebrow growing in
grey dirt: the asphalt on your face,
the cut on your forehead.
"Maybe you should clean up," I tell you,
but you only stare.
I try to talk to you, but you don't seem to hear;
When I listen to you, you only say what I've already told you.
I reach out to grab you,
shake you!
But unmoved and flat you stare,
with only my perspective of you changed.
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My Epitaph in Asphalt
The road is death, joyous death.
Freedom from the familiar, from family, friends, foes.
When strange faces are the only ones in the trees, and stranger lands lay stretched
like empty wilderness before me,
then I know the iniquity of the grave.
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Before I Sleep
Darkness!
Overtake me, send me to sleep.
Let me dream deep,
Let me dream long,
And let me remember my dream
when it is gone.
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Why I still run from Everyone
I watch myself die
life removes its misty eye
from me.
As vitality turns its gaze
to another hope and brighter days,
I see myself from
a view that others used to hum.
A view attuned
to bass E minor
the note turned flat
and others turned to finer
tasted in melodies
whilst deja vu enveloped me.
It mailed my mind
to 363 Rewind,
Where devils chased me
through crisp Oregon waterways.
(Have you ever seen, invisible in the sky
many-armed devils with stars for eyes?)
Heady on the tongue,
the nose and the lung,
Spring burned frigidly
from a devil laughing insipidly
as he drank me like a Pepsi.
(Dark, watered-down and fizzy.)
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Burnt Lonely
Candle flames burn less
Than seeing coworkers cool with conversation
While I scorch myself with work.
The heat of this broom handle
Burns blisters on my breaking hands
While others wearing uniforms so very like mine
Are chilled in eachother's company.
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