more thingsplease to enjoy.
ume.
The Bird I sat on the top step of the porch holding the dead bird in my hands. Its neck was twisted and its feathers were splayed and cracked. A cicada cried in a tree some distance from the house, and waves of nausea, brought on by the heat and the smell of decay, intensified with each moment. I sat on the top step of the porch holding the dead bird in my hands. It seemed small, discouraged, hopeless. I sat and prayed and thought. In the way that I buried the bird I found peace of mind. The fresh earth reminded me of summers in the MidwesThe Bird
StairwellSwift dissidence descending dryly lit steps Setting the soft cries of whitewashed walls to shame Handrails ran rampant with hands Their sweaty grasps slip for momentary lapses As the heads bob down in time to shoelace drumbeats all the sameStairwell
Corrugated moulding tacked to sheetrock overhead The door swings wide to shoot students out to bitter wind Early seven thirty lost to shuffling feet They stumble on the rubberized steps, surprised That no-one’s fallen flat to face of yet today
Halogen breaks their descent They’re off to something great But they’re terrifi
self confidenceBurned diesel fuel spurns Clenched quads and tense toes Primed and lifting the weight Off the seat in preparationself confidence
The way the mouth tips up In crazy arced lines like Something I’ve never seen Brought heat and shooting stars
Mirroring the way her hair Curls, the simple waving fronds A hand just yearns to find And press close to the neck
Slip the hand I own past Tight tee and smooth side Like waterslide upon those overflowing jeans I’ve always known
January 10Burn it down She said to me And so I fell to my knees and lit The fatal fuse.January 10
Burn it down She said to me And the ashes fell On rafters shafts And beams.
Make it gone She said to me And through and Through the thin Wallpaper curled
Make it gone She said to me And pallid haze rose, sending forth The mixed ash
And when the thick trucks came With buckets, she ran
Reachdebirth.man oh man. aren't we what we see?debirth.
multi-faceted linear progression that parallels nature's march moving forward, ever forever.
this ebb and flow, this undulation, we forswore to
forget that good is bad but bad is right.
morals matter; when will wanders, matter not. wonder why?
see how cacophony
cajoles
careful kids, confident in whats to come?
can't they tell our end is known, for beginning came but none of this can graph
the best is the beginning
'foot massages'
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did you ever wonder?
i did.
*adds to watch list*
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<3
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