In My Head

colors on repeat

the rain painter

in

slow

motion

Rain Dream On A Big Brass Bed

the pillow I hold
turns into a body
with endless
pulse and breath

the rain is no longer
too sad or immense

I love you
in this dream



.


.

I Wasn't Typing Like A Drunk Ghost

I like how everytime

I lift my head to drink.


Your soft lips



I like how
you think
the WorldBlink

thigh sink

BrainTwink


I like how your mirror is just
so

*

link tink mink
pink!

computers left on, totally nude & flawless

your dickory dock        wet dream

       wakes me    

slinky        &       pale as a

    cat        diving

into this hole of mute boxes

send me off again with shirt open

       free throws         deep as the ocean

after        the last window closes         &       eyes shut

upload with title and hit send

I won't nice-out your photo on my pretty table
or take your lines out of the terrible camera
most likely
marked, blown

you could be the one on my one way phone
because I'm feeling your rainbow

please write tomorrow

speak code if you have to
don't let me burn away like another
lost digit

Hidden

published in beside the white chicken



Hidden

I push open your door
my black dress
an iris
deep & quiet

I will fix this house with rain
fill your pillow
with gentle finger tips

Leave a calm star
spilling

*

there is a light on there is an overflowing ashtray there is your book a reckless sparkle in my cocktail pale hand jazz you say in a small film voice my pink panties under the bed not another smoke until angels lift this page and dreams come large and untrammeled

Good Things Come To Those Who Wait

When I'm this close to you

my body is not my body

it is part sun, a criminal

without beginning or end

a puddle, a prison, a tent

So go ahead and arrest me

storm my wrists with your

fuzzy click, mirror me with your

shiny badge, I am a knotted silken fringe

more than ready for your bulleted

rhythm

'O Baby-Shrapnel'

thanks for the lullaby
but look at the time

it seems a little looped

too bad, you gots to go..
here, take my mighty-match lighter
for good luck.

Eyebones - MethMaker - a Tasha1 remix

published in Unlikely 2.0





You're (So) Photogenic



again ya'll say
u'here' ?
u knew earlier didn't you, huh?

so now I must align the face. maskmarks are a way to
ask..
parts so prettily nodlike --of you--you- and the day
kinda tired and then neighbors and and a silver cough
around your everything
the one caption-band
'hello'
go get it
I'm not laughing
doesn't reincarnation mean, a half-boner of night?

word after word
you thought again,
wasn't I sitting?
ah yes

so run-thru ie I see roadmaps
right
I mean
sorry
you mean so much and are
you you---the
unconvinced
you warned me against

the bondgerous tiny

the Where

oh o listen to me
you you tied me
clever & nice even my hair was Aware

and again the plastic mattress, you smirk
so again I
explode in your head
you yourself think only in light

(joggily --- hehe)

you keep thoughts
in a oneword cell
it's not puttypoo
but the you
oh, you are being metaphorical and things
you dirty blurt, back rack
it's my hand to be held
hello!
if hands could
did you
or is it that unlikely
repiphany
and no desire for confetti
and my heart all on yours
and only then

do I hear yours, beat, too.

and so
the weeks run funny
on: 'strands of brainwood'

I say, shiver and like,
& & drink in all your faceless drip
ions of weird, you do not like all the slack
the trend,
eeew half blood the the
you are Lautreamont
one I see
you wander for mockingbirds
yes
a new french with only one glove

we spend hours counting snow
we think
walk &
remember going
stupid memory
standing
walking the mean cold floor

convergence. rewired refrain. when and what in
early

'phospholuminescence'

all very beffudingly

I saw rawpunzel
dreaming
you had to be, that one in her sleep
don't you cringe, you crazy know-glass

stand in it
naked and singing!

he travels with my soul in his pocket

his thoughts walk across my fingers

&

the world moves on