Change

Too
much pressure
pushes

Involved

So many burns & scabs
on my hands
there’s no remembering
every incident

Cascading journey

A certain tone of light

during a particular time of day

makes the shadows stand on end

reaching for the sky

before collapsing into the abyss of night

until they begin the climb again

Scavenge

Arranging grains of sand

since it was heard
that
once the specks were a map
scattered long ago

by an unnamed god
for a variety of incomprehensible
reasons

& all we can do is assume

W/out mercy

Whoever said anything
about peace

when knowing
beyond a shadow of a doubt
there will always be
something

gnawing at you

Long trip down a shit hole

Sometimes

the wrong direction

is the only way
to go

when
your soul is constipated

From just the right angle

Eating out of
the same
dumpster
you sleep in

anything can be glorified

Even tho they still fill the sky

In a field of dead
sparrows
naps a happy cat

Hand on my skeleton

One hand on my own
chest, just so I know
it & me are still here,
whether or not
I can feel
the body’s heart beat

Actualizing the true beat

How is
anyone able to be themselves
w/
all this unrelenting pressure
& foggy view to get thru
the bullshit
it takes
to walk solid & fly steady

on the same note

Is it luck or just a best estimation?

How many patterns of logic
will fit in your skull,
like guess how many jelly beans
are in the bowl

Something I can truly appreciate

A
properly
wrung out
dish rag

Best latte I ever had

The baker was a pro
& it wasn’t just because
she made the best
baklava

outside of
the old Ottoman Empire

no
she had been
an amazing barista too
& one day she displayed
her skill by making
lattes

we were a happy crew
until she insisted
on washing the dishes
that were used

a shot glass had a crack
that sliced open
her hand
& panic ensued

until
she was bandaged up

& over that
blood soaked rag
it was still
the best
latte I ever had 

Still don't have a title for this poem

As a teen
I could make
a bully weep
in less than
60
seconds

these days
it’s possible
all the same

but
the last thing
I want to see is
some fool
breaking tears
at my feet

due to being
confronted
w/ the reality
that
ignorance is
a crucial vice
to have
&
to grow past
in life

After all this time

Don’t even bother
to subtract pain, just
shuffle a bit of shabby
gain
my way, since
the pain will remain
either way

Concrete blossom

Haven’t been
in a
flowery mood
lately

it’s been
more like unsmoothed
concrete,
instead of a beating heart
& running veins

Deprivation perhaps, but not permanency

I thought stupidity was a statement
of one’s own cognitive rebellion
from the noise of life, not a statement
of permanency 

Unable to see an inch in front of me

A suffocating haze of silence,
growing thicker by the minute
& it has been
widening by a mile a day

where’s the lift of the subject

Apparently

You’re
already wrapped
up
in your own
fate
& can’t manage
to
escape

A clean bet

Crank up
the volume on
your tunes

to defuse

not
the poison
in your
veins 

Life

You gotta
put
the leg work in
or
in the end
you’re
just a piece of shit

House Frau

Means
knowing how to
‘dry’ mop the floor
to cut down red clay
as it rains for
days