i am a dog
i sleep most of the day
maybe the night too
she feeds me
shes nice
her miseries are mostly of her own making
she frets over the shade of her mascara
she further frets over those creek lines under her eyes
i see her without makeup too
she isnt too bad
but rates herself a bit on the lower tier
that has made her too accessible
vulnerable she always was
i knew her vulnerability when she over fed me
when she would sit under the jacaranda
and keep looking at me
and end up with tears and tears
she talked to me as if i understood
she would pat my head
and ask whether i was tired
i would ask instead
whether she was tired
but beyond this mundane emotional infestation
we knew stuff
i knew she was alone
moneyless
trying too hard to live till the next day
trying too hard too pomade her hair backwards
trying to hard to just fit in
i think she understood me too
i'm black and furry and stupid
she thinks i'm an over thinker
its most likely that every fear of hers
she finds as a fear of mine too
maybe in this stupid two room apartment
like so many other stupid two room apartments
we are just living
putting on a good show
and nobody really knows that we are tired of pretending
still
pun intended
atleast she gets laid
i'm all by myself
17 Southbound
The pavement was cool. And the warm breeze beat against it. She felt like she could walk forever, and she considered it. Freedom was so vibrant that day that her independence swelled with its own ego. She walked past her stop. A determined bus slowing then speeding again in a hurried succession to its next stop forgetting her immediately. But the breath left behind in the tailwind of its ghost embraced her. At the next corner, a young Italian girl and her beautiful bronze friend. As she approached their path, she felt ashamed of her own filth and disregard for sin. She felt their energy, young, innocent, full of faith and grounded in hope and destined for true love. And then the pretty one lit a cigarette. And the Italian girl giggled. And she pulled from her purse a bottle of booze wrapped in a brown bag. They scurried off like a secret. And for some reason the story she had told herself shattered, but she loved them even more. Fighting to live the best that they can: she understood that. At the turn, a pigeon sat thinking. His smooth grey head turning to look and to eavesdrop or check the next crumb. She hadn’t seen a pigeon in the city for years. There’d been conspiracy tales told of the long lost feathered beast, in fact. She remembered a boy she once knew who’d told her that all birds are robots. She made eye contact with the specimen as she turned onto Porter but couldn’t process those thoughts. So she let them go, and she hustled to catch the next bus.
No Perchance to Dream
Now I lay me down to sleep
Alone upon these empty sheets
Of paper lying on the bed
Side table clock says 5 a.m.
Oh dark of night, I beg thee stay
Keep the morning light at bay
Oh dusk beloved!
Oh dawn be damned!
Pull me curtains tight again
And only this I have to show
These tries at rhymes
Turned tales of woe:
Of sticky socks
On stinky feet
Sit ankle bones
Prop broken knees
’Neath pasty thighs
With muscle pains
Crooked back
And shit for brains
Tired eyes must take their rest so
Leave behind this manifesto
For the rights
Of righteous minds
To get their forty-winks, sublime
Después de la fiesta
While they take la siesta
Sun sets low
On the horizon
But lo, the sun set also rises
O’er every heart and soul supine
Crouched behind their window blinds
Who heave a sigh
At yet another
Evening pass without a slumber
All perchance to dream is lost so
As tonight is now tomorrow:
That is all
And with that said
I lay me self to bed again
The Death
Sparkles sizzle when its bony hand strokes
the blood-stained scythe that flutters in its might
and I hear the creaking sound night by night
while its obscure face a grimy cloth cloaks.
And night by night I pale and shake in fear
that your almighty scythe will end my life
but you just calmly sit there, free from strife
sharpening your tool, then you disappear.
Then one cold December night you appear,
take off your cloak, revealing face so vile
my body freezes to its spiteful smile
my pulse dying to the cold touch of steel.
Keep it Quiet In The Moment
Reuniting with our eyes
Blue energy rains between us
Our minds are downloading each other
A rope bridge between our thoughts
One that has been closed recently
I have missed your expressions,
The subtle curve of your lips as you smile
And the pictures you paint with
Your body language as you stare
At my visage, imagining my adventures,
As I daydream about your experiences,
No sound is uttered, but we can hear each other
In this room, we are silent,
Yet have expressed everything we need to know
About the time that has gone by us.
a rip in the fabric of a fragile space-time (the now)
kiwi cuts
like sour blood
they know my name
relatively free, surrounded,
figment:
and spiderwebbed fingers.
spherical (infinitesimal)
no beginning, no end, traffic jam in between
pendulum
fortune
pendulum back
reflections in the rocks
and pebbles in my gums like teeth
say - no stamp - forward
like this,
trust tomorrow