a bridge towards gone

dawn summers between breeze

shape and sound but never space

duplicating positions that were trained for

autumn trees weep beneath ashes

i gauge my chance with an iron fork

transparent guess towards infinity

i'll shadow myself with an eraser

and spare no more of the glow from its face

physical memento

i keep finding strands of your silly brown hair in my clothes

while collecting my laundry, i stand alone with aftermath

a wrinkle persists in my shirt, i've made smell so nice

you're the mateless sock that keeps turning up

driving my logic mad like a criminal

your single locks are reminding me of a warm bed

the light unwelcome between us as we lie

what does it do for me to yearn? remember? relive?

complimenting our ability to incinerate together

two old embers burning uselessly in the furnace on my neck

the reason being

the bees gather for honey

the water in the stream

light through trees

family of flowers standing as onlookers

the smell of air

everything happens for a reason

people need their cell phones

the thought is lost

travel light, eat fresh
skip school in kicking distance
blare horns from down the street
temple tucked away
culture shock therapy
jesus is trendy
i'm not going to attempt to try anything, just trying to attempt gash in the pipeline tucked away, wallflowers growing on my armchair, fireside murder pictures shot glass painted on my face
hahahahaha please don't bother. i've got the whole collection, i'll rub your face and miss the mark. watch you get the upper hand like a fly shits on everything it lands on. fuck that, clap your hands and make him pancake status. i've got nothing. oh baby you've got my favorite voice, my favorite everything. speaking generally i need to specify.

mental defective

so I ironed my pants this morning to take out the wrinkles and while i did i considered my lateness relative to an office building where I go more often than i'd like to catch subtle radiation from a funny glowing box which i'm staring into now. hello. you're reading me. i'd love some caffeine right now but to acquire said beauty i'd need to descend back to the scummy streets from whence i arrived here and speak to an apron-adorned thrill-seeker with too much responsibility on their hands and not enough time to juggle successfully. but practice makes perfect, or so they say. is there more to life than ironing towards a cup of joe? absolutely. when you miss the train a new one arrives not too much later, unless its last call for alcohol. magnetism. mmmmmmmmmm when two bodies feed off each other gently and viciously at once. ice cream on a park bench featuring the soothing sounds of a traditional deutsche band. beer at $6 a pitcher with comrades. a blank highway covered in the sound of rock n roll, cows disturbed by the passing parade of youth on wheels. fuck, i love life