(un)punctual purgatory

shutters closed quickly
revolving enabling
oh, suppose that
the decadence is overwhelming
alzheimers and acid
a truce wagered against it
for collapsing on comfort
a lost endeavor
a tired misnomer
and could it keep forgiving
atlas' displacement of heavenly structure
has imperviousness found seed
in worn demeanor
will quicksand spew forth from features
to sink the emitter
drown in insomnia
and sleep forever

assimilated.

six hours of uneasy sleep later
burnt by nightmares
of embraces with a patting hand
before leaving with another man
looking down at those feet again
hearts will live
and life will land
cannnnnnnot stand
face caved-in
cannnnnnnot swim
can't not swim
hold the head up instead
move on from illusions
try to forget this.

indian giver.

he listened to his rasp
sounding lost and somewhat dead
and wondered at his sending it anywhere
let alone there
as it would only
depress tongues
that otherwise would speak
made him wonder
gaped his mouth
ready for plunder.

(keep ears closed)
(do not listen)
(find the trash)
(and throw it in)

track 3 (colors_collapse "have you seen...")

you could have expired the sun
worn out it's gases and moved on
but you laid down your guns
and walked away as though you'd won
then reasoned the epiphany
of prometheus struggling
filled his heart with bumblebees
and finally quit pushing

if you don't mind the smell
the rancor
of this slow death
(i'd not mind one bit)
if you stayed here
'til the sun sets on me
until the sun sets on me.

track two (colors_collapse - "have you seen...")

the future has become some joke,
some little giggle for someone-
who is not me-
to have.
the knuckles in my back,
the healthy young man
that i somehow lost...
how did this young man
come to be so goddamned old?
how did this young man
come to be so goddamned old?
ask how.

i'm hardly a man
or what one's supposed to be.
all you'll gets
what's left of me.
the jargon-filled soliloquy.
a hermit full of infamy.
inward notoriety.

his fingers only slightly stained
from tar and wondering
and rubbing his eyes clean
of all hope and sodomy
and wishing you well.
wishing you well.

it's not that i can't stand-
but god has played a trick on me.
broken my back beautifully.
but some day soon,
i promise you.
wake up.
(i'll wake up)

smiling is nice and all...

but what happens
to those smiles in the dark
when the sun finally comes out
the avians crying murder
the rush of the human disaster
who stops to notice
in the asymmetry
and remembers that they
are supposed to be living

if i could reconcile all i did.

if i could fantasize or make this right
metabolise the deceit and once again
open my eyes...
convince you this was fixed,
that you could love or trust me again,
that i didn't have to feel dead within.
maybe find a way to trust me again.
if.

he had a heart
and betrayed it.
thought he knew himself
and obviously didn't.
three-quarters empty and completely dumbfounded.
only mattered when it was forgotten.

like a rock

his only reasons came
to him in his sleep
his only feeling wore
holes in his feet
if there were triumphs
he kept them all discreet

there should be laughter here
but the brackets rattled loose
and the corners of that smile fell down
it's fleece all tattered
skin all windburned
warmth halfway to extinct
and swirling down the sink.

heckling the deaf.

the gaze was lost and empty
all hands on canes
not for the beating
all is quite tame.

matches and lights his martyr
all disrupted dreams
to push away that someone
he doesn't want to be.

seconds all of hours
silence in his sleep
crippled here no longer
to vanquish these rotten things.

the sleeping dog..

this space is cluttered.
i forgive it,
but it's illusions evaporating,
it's hope pretentious and rusted.
almost time to roll over
almost time to bail
finding it too comfortable
this amorphous solid
this mouthless place
where words come already diverted
and completely without faith.

the ostrich

abandon this empty
bequeath your fortune elsewhere
young lady,
take as much time as you need
because it's only waiting
and the heart only breaks
because he had it coming.

(showed off his riches)
(both hands empty)

copernicus

he found that mirrors
and wishes in them
the eyes looking back
seeing right through him
were heavily tarnished
saw them dishonest
couldn't correct the loss of calmness.

smiles in the dark
sometimes sputter out
like foreheads for guns
after he thought he won
the jittery insides
for what he'd done
the last time
he saw the sun.

murdering habits.

there is a foot
that sticks out just enough
to find a wobble in step
sometimes even trips
and there is not a better time
then this second
to teach it to walk in step.

the lying tongue.

he didn't break his fingers
though the effect was the same
self-impoverishment always is
because he could watch the world
mistake and mistake
and forgive them all the same
but could not easily
forgive himself.

wolf of witz

deep in the upstairs
where doubt sits restless
attached as an urchin
to the floor with ears
and listening
for a shine of sense
for you to not be dense

worlds don't fall down
almost as fast as that apple
newton dropped
some things are meant to be stopped.

9/11

if you awoke tomorrow
and found the truth
would sparks emit
and encompass you?
would flames erupt
and turn you blue?
if it was all a lie,
what would you do?

leaving glen park.

run a river
or cry me one
or find a place
to call your own
but where i rest my head
will no longer be your home.

you drown in sorrow and you don't know why,
leave your ears low and never try..
to contemplate the reasons that i had to leave
and your still aware,
still aware,
of only your hurting.

controlling
control the way you lie.
feed the fishes
til the pond goes dry.