notes on the lunar cycle (save me a slow dance)

farmers fill gray silos with handmade grains.
count days and days and waves and waves
with gibbous waxing and waning gibberish.

i am a farmer. we all are.
reaping and sowing and growing.
selling the fruit of our labor that we like
and throwing away or forgetting that which we don’t
with clichés like “ive had better days” and the
saturated grays and endless expanses of the same.
screen doors hanging above my head
and your head
and our heads
and so forth.

i am a poet. we all are.
spinning words and existence
with precision and persistence.
the only difference is the medium.
words are pictures are stories are fashion is music
and so forth

i am a lover. we all are.
charmed tales of princes with smelly feet
and dirtyhaired girls hiding in forts made
of metaphors and stale sheets.
dancing like no one is watching.

i am. we all are.
wailing crooning laughing crying
living dying.
opposites attract and refract forming
waves and waves for days and days.
i am. we are.
somewhere you are us.
that is we are everything
and we are the same
and so forth.

breakfast and bedridden beauty.

he was a workout warrior,
loved in the locker room.

a jc melody jogs as
ivy in cotton blankets collapse
beneath your warm embrace.

sensitivity is sold in
two shot increments
and early morning balcony seats.

tin can hobo solos;
im catching the next bus home.

two timed with coffee and cigarettes.
crispy.
sourdough toast.

still smells,
coffee top sailboats navigate rainbow waves.

bodies of bodies

kaleidoscope impulses fire.
desire manifests itself as three dollar thriftstore shoes.
a stranger in my own city
(stranger than the city)
is visiting the past.

i was there. i am here.
so i am there.
if perception is reality how is this different?
walk around impenetrable gates
walls built by man but imposed by self.
it isn’t the gate that keeps one out
but rather the idea.

drunk on selfrighteous and simultaneous
finding and losing.
breathe. sink. streets stink of burnt rubber; my pride becoming
my shoes melting to circles melting to asphalt and concrete.
i see you seeing a neon ocean.

i see you, that is i see your body.
in your body i see everyone.
in your costumes i see you.
i think about thinking about you.

lights change and i notice.
how do lights change for you?
do we share anything but the desire to share something?

sink. vision is perception is reality.
sight smell sound taste touch.
rush through electric arteries as time stands still.
these deserted streets sing and speak
i see houses and cars
and love and struggle and survival
and style and piles upon piles of
manufactured security.
lights change and i notice.

where i am. i am alone.

perception versus reality: a peter pan story.

at long last i am
too far to turn back.

this was a bad idea.

i sit, picking through piles of what is real
and what i say is real. sitting on the potential
of differential magnitudes.

dressing up helps you play the part.
i am not wearing shoes.

it is early. it is late. it is nothing and cars become
neon under cardiffornia nights.

this noise is silencing and i hear the earth breath.
lights flash flash flash the metronome of universal lungs.

fears manifest themselves as old friends from college
showing up unannounced. talking politics and how to
save the world over beer and swinging everymen.

randys' rizla zigzag juicebar prescriptions.
running wild as the night we are running wild in.
watch the wind seduce terrycloth desire cultivate neoprene dreams.

it all ends soon. foreshadowing shadows and ghosts
that guide us through our dreams.

she sings to me but what?

neon ;nosespray not wandering, buried beneath this junegloom july.
she sings and wades through this centuries-old collective breath.

the earth is round! i see it in the distance!
wading, waiting, stairs staring holes in the backs of heads.
look listen learn yearn burn one down in the name of rehashing passed.



then i had a lot to learn.
brain waves abade for days cathcing the real butch cassidy quesioning
self after reading a camus essay

affected effects change this fitler perspectively as i turn around
and walk home knowing i must one day write down what i know.

such is.

bohemia fingers mtv brain.


wayward velcro soles wander
not lost.

raglan backpack vagabonds
rainbows explode
beneath the cuff.

shortskirt; handmade.
bed ridden lovehandle
lollipops handgrenade.

screaming skeleton
chest plate, smiles.
i am dying slowly.

kellygreen oh-
seven heaven;
save me a soft spot on a a cloud
ill be along soon.

doppelgaenger: a letter to bill viola

beware of trickery.
no truth can be that without
the necessary eye contact.
alone at night i cry for nameless
savants; us. the invisible is all
around and we share it.

this iv is inside me
beating my conscience.
what are borrowed words
if we all share them anyway?

my chest hurts.

i am connected to the person directly
in front of me to the left. i miss her.
i am connected to the person next to me
is you are us and we are everywhere.

i miss everyone because they are me,
and in me i see you.
in you, you see me
because i am you and we are.

this moment is what came between
BREATHLESS and
ME AND YOU (AND EVERYONE WE KNOW)
a year or so in the future.


this is a three part question:
has the past passed?, is this the future?
is the standard still dvd?

thoughts are the circles that hold together
what some call the push and pull of things.
somehow i already knew all of this.

one eyed grins

from this tree where i sit i see everything.

so high, no one can hear me and no one is waving me down.

i see you.




the local drunk is a sage in disguise.
a hedonist who preaches peace and understanding.



no need for shoulders with a good alibi. 



i always miss you in the afternoon of the spring,
whos long hours bring too much time for learning.



bow legged beggars conspire; pushed out by a room full
of one eyed grins.
snowflakes fall like seagulls hovering in the wind.



i see you.
come down from there.
for now im staying.

.

come down from there.

thanks, but for now im staying.



sleeping bags zipped together. the points and planes are interchangable but the theorem remains true.


up here things are smaller.



blue eyed bookies make wagers with wandering sailors as a breeze rustles the leaves and my branch bows. 

behind the curtain is a woman with a one eyed grin,

and she controls everything.

the sound of sprinklers (summer)

chk chk chk chk…
running swinging swaying saying funny things.
saved by crazies pedal pedal pedal s k i d stop.
hide your bike inside, laugh hug love winemug.


chk chk chk…
summer sun shortpants sundecks speedos cannonballs
walls and walls socerballs. this will kill me someday.

cheap wine cheap time.

i know a cat who is the mother of a dog
that does what she wants.

pastel nights, angry children hate fathers they never had.



tapdance telephone improvise styrofoam.
books looks cooks wine time dine mine.
selfdoubt selfabsorb selfdestruct overlord.
sandiego cheap champagne Amtrak coaster train.

i move.

when i move you move.

blue replaces teal when the rain falls.
stored in this garage with everything else
tarnished by feeling.

golden waterfalls cascade from slender arms
raised to the sounds of lifes busy cadence.

my legs like my brain rarely stop moving
a delicate course orchestrated
with trumpets and red lights.

when i move you move.

shiny black robots

in the future things appear from pictures.

topangas life granting waters evaporate
through my pores as i breathe in the city.

in between santuaries of rubbish there are
highways and reststops.

uptight apollos charm aristocrats
daughters and shiny black robots
scurry about, as fruitless nector
awakens willing minds.

in the future things appear from pictures and i am.

leaving sayulita

dancing with mia podemos jugar.
balancing with mia learning spanish.

chest high glass off gauntlet racey noseride tent tribe.

shit river misty jungle mountain boat ride
spending my twenties like this.

not needing needing loving my parents.

thanksgiving after.

thanksgiving after

wait in line to buy
more shoes.

bred to bleed the
working man dry.