degrees of magnitude

You say when you think of me
it’s with nostalgia
a surreptitious smile
spreads across your flushing face

When I think of you
frustration, despair, shame and desire
fuse into a howl of longing
I grimace and cringe

with teeth clenched
waiting for each wave of pain
to finish pounding me
into the dirt by degrees



Now that our days of inspiration
have been quartered
into unrealistic pipe-dreams
feeding repackaged innovations
their intent subtracted
from the bottom line
and our creations
turned into investments
we watch grow
We now can laud
our experience and hindsight
leaving us nothing but
to contrive models
and devise systems
to explain and predict
the paths of even the freest radicals
and the capital to construct machinations
to harness their energy
to warm the comfortable cages
we build to live out the rest
of our pointless days

daily post: age

saving grace

and when our wired limbs
crossed and snagged on intent
were done releasing their tensions
you lay, hair frayeď
mouth splàyed open
with no remorse
for the stains that drained
deodorant clumped
under arms raised
without grace
to take more space
than earned
I took in the waste
grateful for the image
that would serve
to move me past and on
once you would wake
to be so much less
than what I made of you

daily post: patina

so long

it’s been so long
since I’ve heard
anything new
of your days
or your dreams
or the nights
in between
so though it hurts
I must conclude
I don’t know you

crossing past

This river runs as always
Low and dirty as my mind
What won’t flow with it
Gathers behind
Trapping debris
Into piles of a past
Determined to outlast
Its purpose

Once words flowed like tears
Carving rivers of expectations
To carry us beyond intent
Scraping against that rocky bottom
Without feeling the sting

My thoughts wade back
Through the sludge
Looking for shards that shine
Enough worth keeping
Or cut enough
To make me move on

Now beneath there is silence
Only creaks are in my bones
There is nothing to distract me
From knowing I’m alone

about the shape of it

Life goes on
just like before
only my heart won’t
When it dared expand
beyond its bounds
and nothing came of it,
it squeezed tight
and all it contained
poured out
and drained
into the ground
and now it sags
and I must drag it
through the day
and tuck it under
the sheets at night
so it wont wake
cold and startled.
I entice it
with easy goals
and small wishes
to coax it
into some vague form
but it’s too old
to try inflating
too distended
to be filled
with sparse morsels
and pale shadows
of what it held.
It billows and drapes
over nothingness


I saw you in that car
parked in the dark
your face a half lit moon
gazing at the screen
your finger hovering
ready to delete and move on

Your face reflected a world
of pain and joy
suspended in a void
an alternate universe
being destroyed

I envied your strength
to pinch it to black
as I wished I had done
a whole lifetime back
when I could still hope
time would erase and replace
the empty space 
with new wonders
instead of a glowing
screen gone blank

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