{all lights look like cop cars at night}

and so on the eve of the hall surrounded by lovers within and without i need no other than the one curing drought and the only lover wanted by me is in my fist i grasp him and he starts to sweat on my wrist and his grip is cool and his kisses wet and on my tongue he is warm and he burns in my throat and so from fist to lips to burning desire to sharing that fire and reflections always double so youre never alone we hold each other through the night at least i hold him down inside until he leaves me in the morning somewhat less than i was the night before and somewhat changed for the worse, but my breath still smells of him and his kiss still lingers in the back of my throat and i still long to wrap my hand around his neck and bring him back to my lips and always one more kiss will do the trick i swear this will be it but still i want him more and more and the more of him i have the more i want still until ive had my fill and i cant want i cant feel i cant stand and everything spins all because of him! but still i want him! and still i have him! and for now as he stares back at me i am no longer solitary and he completes me and so i consume him as such but he was like wilde or maybe it was i for love was the cause of the others demise and so with a smile i turn off the light and sleep kindly and warmly and cuddling tight the memory of his cool smooth skin and the firmness of his body and the way he made me feel when he was inside of me and he never grows tired of me and he never fights with me he just tickles me pink and makes me think the things im afraid to think and makes you hear the things i dont want you to hear and always is there to lend me an ear and so ill leave it here and go and enjoy him as long as he's near....

TWENTY-NINE OCTOBER TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{render me your ear or tend to me your fears}

aaliyah wrote me a four page letter and i need a reason why not to respond....im a drift on a pond of sympathy and doubt and if i sink in the drought ill float on the sands of time surfing through the hourglass and down the bottle neck to the bottom of a bottle while the top of the bottle goes down through the bottom of my neck into the top of my liver like a quiver full of arrows shooting straight into me as i turn to the side making a thousand tunnels through my body and naughty are the thoughts inside of me as i project them onto the stars as they project their light into eternity and when we cease to be we still exist as points of light waiting to be seen light years away and fighting tears away we bite our nearest phase and slip into the stream and thus we dream of the eons that we spent growing strong inside of the primordial pool and the prehistorical schools of thought and the ancient trails that we still walk and the naked tails that weve all lost and the forests through which we were stalked and into the tourists who are unable to walk and so we see with our sights and we flee with our fancies and are altered but slightly and back into the trance we slip into the stream and underwater screams arent even heard by fish just the wishes that we kissed into the past before we relapsed into our state of restless rest where we never progress and never regress we simply exist and are dragged into the future by the wake of time and our eyes are open and our hearts are closed and we always know what passes us by in the waking mind and the sinking body submerged by the mud and the ferns and the moss that redistribute our loss into the life force of the microrganisms who migrate into the nitrous orifice and the process of decay unlocks our nutrients and water us down with the subtle taste of nuclear fission and risk it all on the contamination of our intentions disected with dissension and we never bought we rented and content meant settlement and we were too inflated with the dreams of the failures of our elders and we held on too long to the promise of the prince and the novice and the wrench and we were wrenched free from the log with the bench marked with landmarks and the sand larch was ground into saw dust and sent amongst the raw brush and the cooked combs and the rooked bishop who mistook the queen for her majesty and at last he was free and couldnt see the masks who wore him and the fasting had worn him thin enough to slip through those glass bars like air through water and light through stone and the porous pumice would pour us promises for our tommorrow is loaded with quite and noted as right and still wouldnt fight if we pushed it through a window so we grinned low and soon sowed the seeds of our revenge and watered them with the blood of our rage until we poisoned them with our past and cut them down as the strongest foods ground from the harvest and planted into the star dusted scene painted onto the prisons of our skulls on our souls.....

TWENTY-SEVEN OCTOBER TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{danger will i bob infinite?}

THIS THIS THIS this This This THIS this This this this this This This THIS this THIS this this THIS THIS This this this This this

needed to go away

so we sent it away

so we bent it a way

that was not supposed to be bent

we pretend while be bend that we repent for our sins but the signs that were left behind always sign our souls away for the deeds that we see when we execute them

but that wasnt why in the first place either

so we picked up the lamp and the only thing hampering our actions was the traction that held our backs in place against the wall we tried to fall we cried and bawled and all the while we could still smile at the scene we made so we engraved it on our graves before the day when we needed graves to rest for days beyond the nights without a fight we reached for lights we breached our dimes we needed time to find the line to the door to the floor so we dove down and a dove dove up and we drove with our truck to find the luck that we stuck in the muck when we shielded puck from the ruckus up above us wind swept faster than the drugs hit and we sank slower than the growth did for we bottled all our hopes in our glass hearts dipped in soap so they still shine when theyre open we could hold them but we know that they still slip from all the soap scum and they rip when we know them intimately more than boldly for the written words did hold me over lakes that were pouring into the sky all their holdings so the fishes they did swim it down and down toward the warm earth while they floated ever more so outer outer towards the cold birth of the universe of the one I verse of the only me words of a singularity all my own and formed in letters addressed to a sender who returned after stalking the stars looking for mars he took the scenic route incase there was doubt that still crept in your mind like the creeping insides of your creepy insides all those organs denied of all things just light and the only two portals that enter or exit and this is it YES THIS IS IT of all the things that still exist the absence of continuity through the watertight skin that covers your meat that covers your bones that covers the air that used to exist before egg and sperm were united and divided and multiplied into the bloody lump of flesh that was expelled from the same pleasure den that your father was in months counting ten minus the one still ago and here we go here you know and here you go and here you look forward to the same bleeding bliss and lean in for the kiss and reminisce on the future you get when THIS leads to THIS and THIS still IS IT but you cant resist! and youre still tasting that kiss like a cold frosted drift that stings at your lips when the polar masses miss the coldness that theyd get and so they melt and give all that melted ice a drift and sent it out on air destined for your frozen lips and this is the thanks that they get YES THIS IS IT

STILL

THIS

IS

IT!

TWENTY-FIVE OCTOBER TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{antithesis anticipation}

while we lie awake at night we see the inside of our eyes but our insight rightly dies when we limit our demise and so we lie away and think and push our minds right to the brink of breaking in or breaking down or stowing away or starting to drown on the boat that leaves the town and heads for cross the wayward seething turning churning motion of your stomach that you stuck with the rituals of your past that you never were encircled by (it wasn't full it had a hole!) and nonetheless there was none left when we left which is why we left in the first place and turned left at the first race starting gate and we started great but on the way we lost our pace and instead of displacing our speed we misplaced our greed and so we gave too much away and we broke ourselves broke from the fire that took out our lights and our ability to pay the way into heaven so now all we have to barter with is our barbers tits which nicely fit under my chin when he grins i grimace and sting it with the spring ships that we unload with flys which all came out of my eyes in beams of light when i opened them wide and as they came alive im sure something must die or the balance would be all high and the weights would take a dive that we could gamble on dice but each game has its price and every man has his vice and mine was that i couldnt help but look into your eyes and feel the pride and the sighs that emmited from your nice eyes your nice lips your nice face and you phased me into the pace that i needed to at least complete the race but then you left me or i left too and in the aftermath we subtracted laughs from frowns and multiplied by the towns and the times that i chimed into the circle that i squared of at the church for the last slice of the pie that the vicar saids nicer then the cherry that i spied when gaga replyed in double and then thrice and the boom part was nice and thats when i died when i opened my eyes for the very first time and i saw all the light that was absent from the room that i imagined had illuminated my tomb and the rhyme which had loomed since my first posts in tune with the rise of balloons would all but soon pop and make this whole mess stop!

SEVENTEEN OCTOBER TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{Interesting deposits on the side of the lie....}

and so abandoned in infamy the infant left his family and on the way out he locked the door from the inside before crashing through the window that he had forgotten to open but remembered to lock.

and so we join the pile of rocks that was attacked by flesh so soft that was soaked in its crimson filth that turned brown like the ground on which it sat.

and so defiled was the dirt that held the weight that it gave way into the hole that no one had dug but held so snug a bubble of air.

and so released into the ocean of gas was this bubble at last that burst into unrecognition with its emission from the roots that held it firmly in place.

and at last we could grasp the blast of wind which carried into the window in tiny pieces the tinny steeples with grinning people standing on the edge of infinity and dangling by gravity above the bells and the choir.

but dont perspire for the ending wasnt ended and we only rented so the scented candles were part of the deal

and dont look back now because the past has expired and we at last have it entirely encapsuled in time

and as we fade out into the whiteness and the brightness of the depths of the shallows that we wallowed in when he all fell in we all began to understand what direction we were looking for when the arrow pointed us into the sun,

NINE OCTOBER TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{Inverting the eyes of the road}

silently sitting surrounded by silence

our hero defied his owner of conscious

and into the ocean he would let his conch drift

if only he opened his heart to a prime fist

and so he eloped with his heart on a post

into ropes of his hopes hidden first on his most

treasured possesions and instead of escaping

he bent forward raking the caking of paving

over the last forest that he let grow out of his soiled soil

he wanted to toil but instead was foiled by a lumin and it was soon just sand that he was left surrounded by on his own private island imprisoned by the sirens giving him rising tides and sinking brides that washed up in a pile that killed his smile and left him filing his hold on the past into a brass box polished with silver and pressed with gold but arrested and sold for the market to grow in the name of the tamer of raisers of folds that can wrap and enclose all the things we compose and supposing the rights of the posing were chose? could we still entertain all the rain we expose? and can the lane that we changed still pain us with holes? and pots that sought out the cloud that we plowed in the sky with pride and all the chives that we sprinkled into the wind came back again in the shape of a child shaping his life and squeezing it dry of all the play dough that money can but in the shape of a plane that could push out the sky into the beyond the void that lies above the void that lies above our head that is colored blue by our imagination and our destination that inserts its rations into our booklets without stamps or clamps on our existence. oh no! this is not it! for instead of the pot lick we all stick to the the things we knew best and discarded our best for the things we can rest with comfort in public and faces saved for luck its a satin collar rubbed kiss with a vinyl coated love grip that is rotated at 33 1/3 revolutions per minute while we spin it we sense it has nowhere left to go so we let go and try and hold what we still dont know but at least we know that we know it for show and describe what they told us was bold yes the pleasantly coldness of our hearts as we old ourselves without the aid of a grave to remind us of our past and without a canal to remind us of our birth and our fertile beginings and our ferterlizer ends that our denyed to the cycle by steel we buy we steal our rye and then we die and cannot help but lie inside our house confined on all six sides and all six feet and underneath we moan and cry with mouths not eyes our tears have dried at last but side notes note that we still can find peace with ourselves and our pieces become preachers while peaches plant their seeds and grow into trees that grow peaches that plant their seeds that grow into trees that grow peaches that grow into trees that grow peaches that plant their seeds....

THREE OCTOBER TWO-THOUSAND-NINE