(2013)
the center holds itself still that rockets believably may be seen exploding in all directions from somewhere vaguely
let’s put all the stupid things in a pile and call them “love” or “worry” or
something you need makes you its bitch, yes even as it isn’t coming, no when love stands you up & all the more sweet
love me past the edges, stances and masks, deeper than i know things.
Fieldwizards and firetops. Wobblybirds on snowflowers. Chilled milk and chowder for the little prince. Mothercake for mumbled thanks.
when (finally) we meet I’m thinking spring wildflowers will bloom on high
no means no. no response means no. (everyone knows maybe means nothing
this being we are, delights in all things, yes but is held breathless
every story, especially those promising finally to grant the square hat with tassels, is a load of shit. the god which
I will meet you in the open air, & pet your pony’s nose. You will be
like bell bottoms or disco but we need it to think i’m dead
cool this angst some with beer, amazing how it works, three in and suddenly ashamed that i could hate
just remember we are so much more than words. shadows are beautiful too but let’s not
oh, and how it gets you these bastard assumptions, one or two commonalities
I dream sometimes you surprise me and it is surprising that I don’t immediately realize I’m dreaming