(2013)
Seasonal ill’n Ado, ado, soft achoos Cool wind seeps through me
Bickering tree frogs Endless croaking back and forth Dream a soothing song One where two branches can meet In this capital forest
Why does music speak Without line or threads of time We plug ourselves in Forming an echo cocoon Never wanting to come out
Anticipation Generic butterflies swarm Twists, knots, fluttering They find no golden nectar Only number two pencils
A stone for a head A dauntingly fragile nose Sudden convulsions To lay my head down in peace My vestigial heart begs
The mind of a girl That swirling vertex of bright Is unreachable So we put up these steel walls When we could have built a bridge!
Tonight I awoke to an orange hori… one that I had never greeted befor… It took me back, to the days of ce… and disregard for the ticking of c… Part two:
I guess it’s about that time again time for another pointless relapse Time, like a dusty album record Spinning, around and around on end I want the needle to break or veer…
No words escape me The sun will rise tomorrow Or so I am told
Red and orange glitter Dancing delicately high Above winding paths Falling to the great grey streams Falling for grace, or duty?
Is there something dark? Dark, dark, deep down inside me Something that keeps me Away from the center ring A divergent path indeed
The words are muffled and shifting… The pounding won’t stop, the fraye… I hold onto a thread, a little blu… The tension is mine; it is a pain… Frenzied energy drains from my fin…
Such sweet aroma Breathe in the color deeply Exhale precious wafts Crisp Citric spiral peelings, Fill my compost disposal
A midst cold classrooms Seemingly short dialect Audio-connect Slowly frozen hearts will drip As conversations bubble
Such an empty sky Countless pensive glances are Over and over Swallowed swift, before their time If only I could keep them
