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the dark side of the sun

i am forgetting who i am but remembering that this disappearing is who i am * there are only a few moments in your life where your life is decided and often it involves uninvolvement years of building boredom a moment of crisis leading to a question of why you didn’t do more or weren’t … Continue reading →

(w)a(r)

soldier of breath armed with exhalations and arms that are taking too much oxygen pressing her away   meanwhile the heart is losing the battle and there is a foxhole somewhere you might fit into but she feels clunky and tired and worn like a used gun that smokes too much and shoots too little … Continue reading →

sue i side

you should do that thing you should do before you told yourself you shouldn’t * i am the umbrella and the rain and the river that once brought about both thousands of years ago waiting for them to come back tired and crying from above hoping for gentle brush of calm reassurance against the drowning … Continue reading →

the big contraction

and do i contradict myself no i am the universe yes i contain multitudes maybe i need a little more little   and a lot more less * i am a body paragraph without a thesis a run on sentence tired and panting a constant conjunction hoping for more than or a two sided sword … Continue reading →

the royal poor

poetry is powerless until you come along lonely hoping to find something that will make you feel powerful and like you belong again   hi king hi slave * we are the only planet to know we know we are the only planet who can love and lose this love and this makes us forget … Continue reading →

type setting

broke end

all is not enough for all the universe yawns into excitement daily do the same make your you * one day i will look back nearly blind and without will and i will say how much i could see then * poetry is a thug that takes your money and leaves you broke * the … Continue reading →

grooowwwing

stretch marks like a lazy river across your smile while inside your mouth there is darkness always * but you feel that no one feels that like you feel until you find a little book with all your words full and bleeding wet yet still burning with fire * i am the grand son of … Continue reading →

our father

if night could talk it would moan about morning and how daylight hurt the eyes though it would also say it couldn’t see much anyways * it was the sweaty summer where the sun swelled like a single organism swallowing the sky that i was born again in myself i wet with i a reverse … Continue reading →

nighthood

there is a poem written that will make it so no more poetry will be written   this is not it though it starving and short makes me want to stop writing * love give me a chance for chance gave us love in between all those people who we could’ve met we met we … Continue reading →