# data[].attributes.body
I.
it is alien for us to believe
anything thrust upon our stones
with force or undesirable strength
like slabs roasting under the desert sun
this is labeled paradise for most
and perdition to most others
just smear the unknown
against my processes
and lets see how wax and grease
can soften up my bowels
when i need everything
to just exit from somewhere absolutely
in one way or another

II.
the question isnt about the renewal
or recursion of the flourished respiring
the answers cling to the seconds
in between the riddles
and when everything goes void
when your bottom lid kisses its top intruder
that is when you see where i am currently
appalling circular endeavors
my life is nothing more than a sphere stopped
inertia isnt real
and energy is just another unfit parent
banishing their offspring
for a moment of clarity and silence

III.
serpentine in thy skin set
hissing fumes from both nail and shell
dare i dream
for a coil of copper
and let it glean below whatever
body i shed once or twice
the beetles i have destroyed
since i was born
have skittered deep into my organs
taken over with sincere hostility
and now preservation instincts
have perverted my consciousness

# data[].attributes.body
You played patty-cake games
in the schoolyard
slapping sweat-smeared
palms together to
muscle-memory rhythms

that your new cells glean
from the old ones
in passing

Now you tap one foot
on a floor so far
from the earth
labeling yourself an alien
on your home planet
trying to plug headphones
into the beat
still clinging to your roots

# data[].attributes.headline
all praise to those who breed with scarecrows

# data[].attributes.subject
all praise to those who breed with scarecrows

# data[].attributes.body
I.
to the top of my mouth
the poker goes through
attached at the pinnacle
ive put a long dedicated checklist
of things ill never possibly accomplish
in numerical and subjective order
so when my juices and saliva
smudge over all the ink
the directions dribble
towards my toes
and it only gets more grueling
to follow the soil
that my words describe wonderfully

II.
twice rejoice
the incomplete movements of man
delicate swaths
raking over the long dead
khaki stained grass
garnished garish brilliant lawns
ever more fencing than anthills
columnal sculptures of their queens
impregnated leaking and ephemeral
their tears will nourish the crops
that our children will only throw away
sustenance is nothing
to our over reaching heirs

III.
hark the horrible echo of my voice
the metronome is buried in the adams apple
like a smashed guitar
that forever somehow twangs violently
begging the vibrations
to shake it to life once more
if only to hear
the proverbial choking of reticence
whether joyous
oratory in gloom
or dismal in its permanent and
very
very
very
absolute clear cut ending
of ouroboros

# data[].attributes.body
I.
tell me im too needy
to be proven too difficult to nourish
ive got enough malnutrition
for the both of us to squeak out
enough resources for at least one of us
to linger on with enough enthusiasm
for everybody else to mock easily
its soft elastic skin
burnt paper texture
and as always
there is enough irony
for the both of us
to stand out from the crowd
even if one
or more
are total withered complete

II.
paste my serotonin on the gauze
carefully but with appreciation
for how desperate and dependent
ive become towards the turmoil
its insatiable inside my guts
toiled and toyed with
the monkey with its cymbals
the clown inside its cube
the building blocks
that create the stage
where the jesters cheerfully disproportionately
pull at my lower and upper intestines
pretending they are curtain ropes

III.
somewhere it backfired
somehow it betrayed
it became my duty
to treat to you to a virulent woven reality
an atmospheric slop of illusions
threadbare and threatened
mirrored from a pearlescence vacancy
diluted into surveys and essays
that have no soluble conclusions
i guess its all my choice
my opinion
my equivalent
how rude of everyone else
to also always answer
the exact same

# data[].attributes.body
vivacity vitality vigor
vinegar vibrance verve
all those words that mean
life force
start with v

pointing down
cascading
but if you had to assign
a basic ingredient
this stuff is blood

quarts to spare seemingly
as quarts are expelled daily

muscles contract
cramp
coils squeeze the breath out
to build core strength

bluff rhymes with tough
the way youth rhymes with truth

i am still young
but i'm done with coyly saying
i'm ok

# data[].attributes.body
If two midges eloped
to a soybean plant
and pumped it full
of their larvae
would the stem snap,
cinched by the power
of their instinctual
preservation memory
(generations generations generations)?

Will no white knight vegan
come and stamp them
flat against the earth
with the Earth logo
on their plastic boot?

Upsetting sustained harmony
to take a solo?
(no wonder
nobody listens to you)

# data[].attributes.body
I.
follow the curses
stymie the cunning
tilts and tricks and traps
that were only there
to bait and belittle ourselves to begin with
there used to be prizes
tinsel awards we lost ages ago
and there once were cages
skeleton keys couldnt unlock
that housed and cramped us in
like the cheap fungi
they harvested bartered and sold
at high high fortunes
to those who wouldnt ever
have known any better

II.
at the onset of abdication
the collapse of the other side of the universe
the crippling of the individual
orion needs no master
no employer necessary for andromeda
no chief requisitioned for ursa major
theyll each come alone slithering
hissing in their neighbors ear
the quips and yawns of those once beloved
and they relish even slightly
when the stones fall from their sky
and crush the mortals below

III.
laid siege to the vast expanses
lightyears ahead of our own paths
layered above what was
previously thought impossible
and yet somewhere within the bowels
of an infinite drought
a gulley has split from its messy ends
and as sure as the silver in mucus
can assist in growth and maturity
every butterfly
knows the disgust of its own cocoon
better than any near sight scientist
ever could

# data[].attributes.body
Once I wedged myself between
her composure
and the dark night,
like a lunar halo.

Now her heart is a brothel,
she, the madam
of her desires and instincts.

In the stead
of the light
I drew around her,
a wide berth

where her liver fell in:
bland enough now
for the minnows
to feed on

# data[].attributes.headline
to make him a boomerang the entire forest must die

# data[].attributes.subject
to make him a boomerang the entire forest must die

# data[].attributes.body
I.
admiring the divine
through urine stained glass
it peels like wall paper
ghostly it stands awkward posture
spine trembling
quivering with either delight or fear
coyly it recoils
whether too scared to rebuke
or too invisible
that even the hungriest of mice
would eat the metaphysical
if only for just the reversal
of vitamins consumed
and cramped bellies afterwards

II.
who reminded me that
my abdomen be separated into quarts
volume and density
hollow bones fill up the fattened molecules
adult preliminary abscess
absorb the youth
like the cannibal gods
of ancient realms
eating children
and things that dont rhyme
with uncooked meat and excellence

III.
there is no reason
we cant stand
the way we stare
when we cant be bothered to spread
apart the shallow cages
that our palms and tongues divide
uneven outlined liar
brooding bluff caller
ive been known to share
my identity with many
and many have opted
to squeeze it into compartments
no bigger
than my soul

# data[].attributes.headline
misunderstood abbreviations inside a venn diagram

# data[].attributes.subject
misunderstood abbreviations inside a venn diagram

# data[].attributes.body
I.
we share only what we showcase
there is not such a thing as power
even in a metaphysical sense
there is only weakness in wrists
because hands do all the molding
even with bad brittle bones
calcified and rotting
there is so much reason to be upset
because erosion of flesh
has taken far much more
than what was first anticipated
or agreed upon

II.
my backbone had its back plate
removed for repairs
its been stomped on
stampeded over
struggled throughout
though in recourse and superstition
i do suppose its all true
im too much of an imbecile to succeed
perhaps instead of a motto
or even a legible signature
this is my admission of guilt
someday soon shortly
ill revert in upon myself
and live isolated in my stinking cocoon

III.
sniff the resin in your own bloodline
half hearts
pistons of coagulated blood
pumping in nothing but liquified remorse
it saddens me to know
we couldve just simply burned it to a thick fog
crumpled embers
coiled over at the wick
it wouldve been a cinch
a simple ignition
an easy victory
means nothing to flames
but a warranted retreat
means everything to coal

# data[].attributes.body
anger felt trite in my too roomy mouth
I couldn't squeeze it hard enough
between my tongue and palate
so I spit it into my hand
and my fist melted it

the gist of a tryst I felt in it
sick candy green
drizzling down
a swarm of aphids
pursued by a flock
of ladybugs

# data[].attributes.body
Adult egrets
have a voice like
running a stick along a fence.
Their chicks click,
more like baseball cards
in bike tires.

Lilac bushes smell like
exactly 63 degrees
exactly May 22nd
exactly one
very soft
long-sleeved T-shirt

unlike dandelions
whose fragrance free
fluff can take wing
any time
until snow
takes its place

Fields where grass
is severed weekly
forget what it means

to know, at once,
the secrets enclosed
within the earth
and how it tastes
when the sky holds itself agape
to nourish you

# data[].attributes.headline
the quiet hum of a saint becoming decanonized

# data[].attributes.subject
the quiet hum of a saint becoming decanonized

# data[].attributes.body
I.
visually it looks appalling
vitally it needs a life field
to pollinate and weed off of
our voice resonates like the birth of an echo
thick deafening agent
stimulate again
and tell the thieves
that the noise is off limits
at least until the alarm can be heard again

II.
you yawn
mouth agape
with wine colored cheeks
and a pig leather belly
you sleep
with eye lashes
the length of the nile
and sand between your toes
the great nefertite
knows what an asp dreams of
my bed is my sarcophagus
and only ramses
can put my organs inside jars
so my eyes can study them
when everything else stays buried
and sealed shut

III.
your tombstone doesnt read anything important
there isnt any fable or fluff
or good anecdote telling us how you died
or what a caring person you were
when you were with us
before your life was severed
it only has two rote dates scratched into marble
and a little decorative lilac underneath your last name
it is slightly off center
and that bothers me more
than knowing we can no longer laugh
at all our dumb jokes
but i know you would understand why
so thank you

# data[].attributes.body
all kinds of eyes
gawking out of their
ceramic sockets:
beady blinkers scowling
or stuck shut
(veiny little pinto beans)
how satisfying to slam
the sliding glass door,
forcing it through
its rusty track,
retroactively rejecting my birthright

# data[].attributes.body
What is the opposite of gloating about being awful to spare yourself the impact of any input, good or bad, that may come as a natural consequence of interacting with other people?

What might each day look like if you didn't write LOSER in the steam in the mirror while waiting for your shower to go tepid?

After this many years of flouting God by smiting yourself for sins undisclosed, how might it feel to back away from the brink of inertia?

# data[].attributes.body
I.
change the format of everything
once from behind
twice from a latitude flat around the spheres
tucked in between our sockets
it is ever apparent that the beauty in gaia
evaporates at will
behind a breeze that sucks the life
out of my lungs
see the flock hover
hear the trivial undoings of
my tryst with nature
and just watch in awe
the aphids crawling
their way to the top of the evolutionary chain

II.
little importance
means its only more meaningful
to those who abandon the plight
the bright lens of cowardice
the trite nuisance of instantaneous virility
etch the pregnancy
into the dullest of months
the road is sallow and long
famine limping along your strings
and foot stamps so lazy
we might as well squirm
as opposed to step
we are carriages with legs
but our knees are forever shaking

III.
for once
today
i do not want to kill myself
ive tasted caramel
on my bottom lip alone
and decided to not let it get me so angry
though i couldnt swallow the flavor
or even describe it properly
in contemporary terms
i think ill give tomorrow a chance
at least until i decide
that anything i cough back up
is a terrible
terrible
terrible
terrible
omen

# data[].attributes.body
I.
will someone cherish me
if i just ask politely
will someone else collect
all my specimen
all my beads of saliva mucus and spit
in little plastic bags
with slight holes in the corners
and used to water torture me later
only so that everything ive writhed and wrung
out of all my insidious orifices
will be truly loved and understood
by someone gawking at my pathetic demise
just fucking read me some
beautiful beautiful poetry
while i drown in my own phlegm

II.
a gruesome ritual
unfounded by ceremonial lashings
in large circles tracing rusted grass
lie a thousand piebald pinto horses
each one limbless sundered and mutilated
exploded from the eyes
wax seething from their mouths
in a century we will hear them screaming
but for now we have enough
hair and hoof to last us through
this endless winter
their skin will help keep ours warm tonight

III.
valuable are the prizes
little ancient medallions
sterile and bronze tarnishing the extremities
of infants barely knowledgeable enough
to realize that their luster is malignant
small pox trophies
black plague tapestries
smother out feeling and exemplary behavior
soon the masters will bleed the wisdom out of us
the meat is uncooked
the peasants are droll
soon the masters will be dead asleep
on thread count sheets
too high to accurately number

# data[].attributes.body
I.
should i drown respectfully
questions raised from the shore
conch shell realizations
with many stand alone nights
glimpsed from the eyes of the berth
looking telescopic
the message sprawled across the beach
this isnt when it was found
but read
then deciphered
the sand is for the dogs
the dirt is for their belongings

II.
my liver is bloated
plump and swollen
like chewed plastic venison
its bland enough to keep gnawing at
but sour enough to garner
drool and saliva
when stared at from above
or from inside
it doesnt matter
it always stays within me
until i say when
or it loses its magical properties

III.
terminal in the blue print
architecture of flattened anatomy
lets play build repeat and bloom
only to learn about
detriment demand and demolish
stick a wedge between my thumbs
so that i cant count as high as others
my body becomes my tower
only as far as we care to replicate
duplicate
masticate
everything grows at least once
even sicknesses

# data[].attributes.body
Goose down keeps you warm.
Goose fat helps you float.
There is so much goose shit everywhere,
but to atone for making them
unwitting donors, we leave it there
and don't say anything.

I went to Primo Pizza in a dream:
a goose in an apron and chef hat
asked me what was wrong
with my wings.
My plate was empty, spotless;
My arms, outstretched:
I'd blown my cover.

I woke up listless but so hungry.

# data[].attributes.body
I.
its never as awful at first
its always a calculated input
of an imbecile behind the controls
a loser with too many endorphins
too many pheromones
that wind up sending her or him
to the emergency room
with nothing but a crooked grin
and something secretive to gloat about
when they arrive home
with too many stitches
to truly brag about

II.
boiling point has been verified
breaking stones has been conquered
believe everything first without so much
as an incidental credit
or even a fascinating inquiry
then when the brink has been reached
breached and melted into nodules
we know full well what to expect
and how to go ahead achieving absolutely nothing
whilst trying absolutely everything
to get someone just to thank us
does it make you feel better knowing
that any smile youve put on their face
will vanish the instant they remember
you mean absolutely nothing to them

III.
these miles crawling
on hard etched forever sand
hear the vultures circling culling choking
enticed by our sweat and blood knotted knees
swoop in and eat my promethean liver
it has been wasted
below the waist
and yet to smite me now
wouldnt change how far ive gotten
but only how long and how putrid
the next lifetime will become
revenge is in the heat
and the sun is always delivered here early

# data[].attributes.body
Eyes suddenly depthless,
A froth of stars beginning to form,
Light flooding from the gaping maw
Into a dog dish
ringed in a velvet spectrum
of gloomy jewel tones:
a promise for the pious
of sustenance
whose defining trait
is not girth
but nourishment

# data[].attributes.headline
for every parade another parade will follow

# data[].attributes.subject
for every parade another parade will follow

# data[].attributes.body
I.
floored to our imprints
overridden steps along blotches of ash
splayed across the kitchen ceramics
and bred from the burn of grease fires
there is debauchery in these accidents
we commit almost on purpose
but instead we float along the stove
and save ourselves an excuse
to atone for our clumsiness
that only our godmothers
could rid out of us

II.
as far as mastery goes
i am bottom class
unconventional at best
i learn on completion curves
i adapt to donor patterns
i want to believe i want to give away
pieces of my soul
in advance
for the contingency plan
i somehow already purchased with the money
i received from the removal
of both
kidney and spinal

III.
pirates once held principle
on muddied beaches
on denying futures bullions and treasure
on blown away feathers
skirting across their hull
and on the pounds of dead geese
that fill all their bellies with game meat
rare with exploration
or an unwanted expedition
that history
for whatever heroic reason given
shall never fully scrutinize

# data[].attributes.body
a bayou moves it creeps
It's a creek
It may creak
if someone is by you to hear it

an atoll is a ring-shaped reef
formed of coral
showy phasing from Mars rust red
to Jupiter Tuscan sun
like a moat
but not at all

Manors are on lands for lords
and lording over land
is hoarding
awarding those
who don't even know
what manners are

# data[].attributes.body
I.
crack the sky into sixths
and flood the land with immortality
lets live together forever still with the notion
that we will explore every inch
bottom every depth
ruin every trait and figure
that someday our fossils
will grow and swell to such a girth
that they could feasibly burden the soil
we are too stupid to admire

II.
theyve chosen poorly
theyve redeemed too much
and are now enriched with bad fuel
and rosary debris
it starves them in reverse
and weathers them into golden sycophants
for defeated years of pious service
have severed the hands of this entity
and now a new herald
will welcome us with calloused hands
and a voice honeyed with gloom

III.
quitting now will only incur them
to rack you up further
spokes and rusted scalpels
into kneecaps and below the tongues
incision slow
insidious stage
this is for every day
that i crack my knuckles
and i do not immediately see my bones
burst through my skin after
the healing process is wonderful
yet taxing

# data[].attributes.headline
the elasticity of destination isnt as wide as you surmise

# data[].attributes.subject
the elasticity of destination isnt as wide as you surmise

# data[].attributes.body
I.
could not show them the way
could not forget a direction
that crept in through my reverse latitude
and sent a vertigo nausea
straight through my brain cells
and told me what i should have been
reconfiguring into callouses
transformed into waste
transgression of the willing
is just another phase
that sets us up to follow
but with no clear information
or even a tattered map

II.
lets creak below the floorboards
lets shovel it all into the manor closet
lets hide it away for generations
and tell our descendants
to mandate what they thought
we represented to a future
that hoards
that gluttons
that bellows out pugnacious summaries
and scribbles tiny little fortunes
onto crumpled bits of paper

III.
depart me
there is too much to include
it was as horrible as you think
and exactly what you conceive or visualize
strapped and crushed into plasma and chalk
the outlines of a life
that simply need to get buried
in the depths of a bayou
that has one too many secrets
deliberately sinking leaking
over the course of a bleak bleak era

# data[].attributes.body
Unready to scrap the whole situation but perhaps finally fully formed. All the ways to make money--real money to keep folks safe & fighting--hinge on me knowing I know what I'm doing.

(zoom out)

The future me recognizes my heart as the asset it is. Wears her tiara and points at it when it is her turn to speak.

(zoom out)

They doesn't need to look through a whole photo album to remember who they is; and they never hesitate to vouch for them. But they doesn't need them to.

# data[].attributes.body
pulling up the tab
of a coors light
feeling the metal yield
the pressure release
a new old friend
with a complicated secret

effervescence
clamoring skyward
like souls too light
for Purgatory

curve of the bottom
of the glass
testing the weightlessness
of the suds that will scour
my esophagus
with affection

i could get up and dance
but i will dance
regardless
even if there's no music
or no floor

I don't know what it is
about being perfectly
pilsner tipsy
that allows me
to slip past
those gatekeeping beasties
fear and shame
and delve into deeper joy

# data[].attributes.body
I.
stiff collared shirts
folded dormant in sun tinged boxes
forgotten in the attics above attics
archaic photograph albums
binders scrapped snapped into thirds
with pictures of daughters now deceased
wearing tiaras rusted with gold
and reflecting instances
just seconds prior
infiltrated with perversion and fear
a memento for all
whether we wanted one or not

II.
not another asset
not another attachment
suppressive additions
in subtraction standards
problems amass in storage
like coins chalked in sweat
and folded money carrying germs
pass to friend
love from parasite
leech off each
sickness on target

III.
ten days feels forever
once ive gotten to twelve
i shall need someone there
pinching a hole in my wrist vein
vouching on my behalf
telling the doctor
there is an emergency in my bladder
that i cant quite seem to piss away
and no ambulance
no syringe
no procedure
no bodybag disposal
can cure me of these things
ive imagined first
and thus converted into reality next

# data[].attributes.headline
The Cowboy and the Frog Make a New Friend?

# data[].attributes.subject
The Cowboy and the Frog Make a New Friend?

# data[].attributes.body
Butterflies are insufferable: flying around, smelling flowers with their hairy feet, wearing wings as badges of evolution, waxing poetic about chrysalis homer introspection. Mercifully, they die within hours.

I decided to change my story, to train myself away from nature, to stay larva. Imagine my size if I continue to eat twice my weight every day. Every day. Every day.

# data[].attributes.headline
looking for trouble at the local antique shoppe

# data[].attributes.subject
looking for trouble at the local antique shoppe

# data[].attributes.body
I.
the wiser of the three kings
recedingly blessed by myrrh and frankincense
and the gifts for god
on the legs of lambs
to pass out glass etched pillows
to reach the stars of bethlehem
first yield at the intersection of sin
and disbelief
soon enough youll reach penance
and the emblematic depths of passion

II.
crimson the color of metal
overlapping metal
aluminum limbs
rich in zircon and zinc
ill cough up rust
through a throat of piping
and let sewage leak chrome
in a body void of amniotic fluids
full grease
gold fix

III.
our oldest achievements
mostly scoured at and shit upon
beetle humps below the surface
breaching with victory
not recorded or even administered
there once was dedication
but i had to delve below to reach it
there once was determination
but ive had to dig at the rashes
with someone elses hands
and it is only recently ive learnt
theyve never been washed wholly before
immunity means nothing
to number one

# data[].attributes.headline
sober enough to create a panic drunk enough to choreograph it

# data[].attributes.subject
sober enough to create a panic drunk enough to choreograph it

# data[].attributes.body
I.
there is a copycat oasis
middling deep in subconsciousness
knowing the reality of its farce
yet still keeping its mouth shut
when the sunlight kisses us into paradise
when the lights undermine the oblivion
when the shine isnt all that can be admired
about a horrible situation
manifested into something much much worse

II.
slung across the crooked mantle
dropped uneven shoulders
and a posture so poor
it can only be described as an illness
there is an elixir here somewhere
amidst this catalog
of hyper skeletons
brittle bones
and weary maintenance
that is only doing the bare minimum
in order to survive
like a mime
making the choice to use a prop

III.
we used to broil ants
below the lens
we used to label them accordingly
like how often they flinched
and struggled once theyve lost
their first leg
second antennae
bottom half
uncanny the way the mind works
when you are certain
the only way to arrive at punishment
is through the pillory

# data[].attributes.body
on top of the trash in the kitchen
brilliant against the olive drab walls floor ceiling
orange and lemon
peels pith pits pulp
sharp zest pianoing the air
prism spectrum spiral
shown like a windchime reminder
mesmerized, inert
begging to be heisted
by hand
back to earth

# data[].attributes.body
I.
lets train them to be good at one thing
or marvelous at failing many
i once had ambition
dreams and glory
i once killed effort
in attempts to memorize the story
of how man created fire
carved the wheel
and established invention
its been a downward tumble ever since

II.
ive been bloated today
my stomach is a wrench kinked catastrophe
and i think sickness holds too many utensils
to do proper work or excavation
forgo the usefulness of interrogation and blackmail
thats dirty work for entrepreneurs and moguls with too many letters in their last name
how about this instead
dig through all my tunnels until you hit root
and never stop pulling
at the ends of my bowel wires
its got to annoy the larva enough
to get them to travel upward out my throat

III.
there was a remark made in regards to tradition
that i would love to say i can remember
but as demented as that interpretation may be
it is the wretchedness to accountability instead
that has got us all spitting at the clouds
its only in nightmares where i say
that such a thing is formless yet may hold its shape
or fluid enough to lose its solidity
yet still wear a badge of distrust
it said they would reign
they said it would rain

# data[].attributes.body
Not just one ample cheek: a pair!

I wonder, would their owner care

to have this seedy cargo planted in her foyer?

(and would the nitrous oxide* tickle or annoy her?)

I'm sure she'll find I've styled her space with flair.

--------------------------------------------------------------

*"Plants can produce and emit nitrous oxide (N2O), a potent greenhouse gas, into the atmosphere, and several field-based studies have concluded that this gas is emitted at substantial amounts. However, the exact mechanisms of N2O production in plant cells are unknown."
https://www.frontiersin.org/articles/10.3389/fpls.2020.01177/full#:~:text=Plants%20can%20produce%20and%20emit,in%20plant%20cells%20are%20unknown.

image credit: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Inside-purple-iris-flower_-_West_Virginia_-_ForestWander.jpg

# data[].attributes.headline
a list of important chemicals and their counterpart alkaline irrelevancies

# data[].attributes.subject
a list of important chemicals and their counterpart alkaline irrelevancies

# data[].attributes.body
I.
there was a tactical defeat
that i think we overlooked here
one that needs to be prodded at
analyzed further
and added upon for centuries
eons perhaps
it has shown us that
war schisms are an inert system
there once was value
there once was moral
but now the ability to withstand
has given victory
an invisible high road straight to heaven

II.
could sight have echo
a relay upon vision
shown once eighty thousand times
an image surveilled askew
in remembrance of bright bright pictures
infinity is something that can be held
like a wooden toy or a wax seal
a blade of grass or a mirror cracked
a box full of trash ideas
i cant seem to ever abandon

III.
in this period
objects are vital
so much in fact
that burglary runs deep in our veins
a botched heist
a triggered alarm
a stolen heirloom
its just algorithms for the machine
a notch on the bedpost
a check in the smallest box
when the classifications finally
run out of derivatives
you may own absolutely anything
i said i would never attach a price to

# data[].attributes.body
I.
it is how a frenzy should be
displayed upon the mantle
there is blood blasted upon most things
paw prints steamed in burnt orange
oxidized in the morning rust
carcass remnants spell words
that have yet to exist
and carnivores have wet dreams
of wolves feeding at dusk

II.
theres ample enough time
to sate my thirst
its the hunger that worries me
my belly rots
my cheeks famished
my stomach rewinds
my mouth hasnt felt the tastes
of anything in forever
in moments like these
plants look like a delicacy
and chrysanthemums are gourmet

III.
they have entered through the foyer
but instead of climbing up walls
they travel through them
matter passes matter
and no quantum theorem known today
will show me any evidence
of when our spirits
have abducted our souls
and began this overwhelming travesty

# data[].attributes.headline
Though the night is always loud  tonight something was askew, a smashing noise across the way, that bodega with that zesty olive salad. It was no heist, but a raccoon, the largest ever shown having a party in the trash. Apparently he also found that olive salad tasty.

# data[].attributes.subject
Though the night is always loud  tonight something was askew, a smashing noise across the way, that bodega with that zesty olive salad. It was no heist, but a raccoon, the largest ever shown having a party in the trash. Apparently he also found that olive salad tasty.

# data[].attributes.headline
the ideal etiquette and procedure of how to burn a witch

# data[].attributes.subject
the ideal etiquette and procedure of how to burn a witch

# data[].attributes.body
I.
there is a hallway of decrepit faith
the stairs that lead to heaven
are spliced pearls
into a placid value of black
one previously unknown
and not yet imagined
ahead and behind of invention already
that the royal almighty himself
was last seen sobbing tantrums
into his tiniest of hands
ones that he also had to borrow
because there is no use any longer
in taking the time to create

II.
ill take chunks of your bravery
minced swaths of your courage
i own what you deplete
i replicate what you excrete
and as far as trophies go
golden gore
and painted in a varnish
unusually solemn
and as close to the inner
color of my retina
as inhumanly as possible

III.
the concerned faces of every day weather
an impure vitriolic rinse
cleansing bright and shearing openness
your rib bones look like lightning rods
tiny poking shame prods
given excuse to align the warping clouds correctly
so they rain profusely along wet cement
it is only within the early morning hours
when they cry the most
here are puddles of their youth
that need to be drunken
exactly like grain alcohol
enjoyed

# data[].attributes.body
Comma
in the deficit
of a period
a shorter, more urgent pause
Head up, tail curled under
Often appearing in lists
but here, signaling fewer options
The exception that proves the trope
Shedding the petals of the maiden,
taking up the weaving of the shawl of the crone
Does one's donning
of motherhood begin
or end with the natal episode?
Or is the moment,
the first and final foray
into lifegiving,
the whole of maternity?

# data[].attributes.body
I.
she has had fewer and fewer
meaningful conversations
each time she wakes up she notices
another has escaped the cortex
and has taken wind as its partner
she was certain once that it was always them
it was the drivel
and the sludge off their tongues
that has blemished the good name of intelligence
but as of recent she has been too scared
to admit
that dementia itself
has a rocking chair
a comfortable pillow
a badly knit shawl
and has taken a deep slumber
forever inside her natal psyche

II.
the day after yesterday
i will be struggling to stay alive
i will say things i have never once meant
but will swear to you i do this time
there will be a foray into enemy territory
or in this case
my intentions
and its up to you to detain the prisoners
or in this case
keep everyone in tact
and interrogate them
as you see fit

III.
i will sink quarters
into fountains
and genuinely scream what i most desire
and if it never comes true
i wont mind
because my throat will have been
ruptured and tortured
and any autopsy will have
shown that god itself
was actually just singing through me
like the proper vessel
i wished
i became

# data[].attributes.body
🟠The head: where fears of remembering are clamped, ears trying to meet
🟠The chest: a taut, hollow depot where fears of rejection are allowed to crystalize
🟠The stomach: a dragon's cavern where fears of failure slosh in their own namelessness
🟠The sphincter, loath to purge,
begins to pull the system
down a tunnel of inside-out

# data[].attributes.headline
paint the oxen red and call it a blood stampede

# data[].attributes.subject
paint the oxen red and call it a blood stampede

# data[].attributes.body
I.
here is one jar for each of you
go to the forest and catch a nymph
for each of your siblings
parade what you have found
to each of their parents
and return to me with lowly spirits
depleted magic
while everyone else shall denounce us
refusing to believe
that they
or we
even exist

II.
there is an ant crawling
sideways inside my nostril
he means danger
and harm
i own his odor and stench
pure residual vengeance
with each feeler
climbing through the cavity
digging through the snout
sooner or later he will reach
brain
tissue
lobe
and deposit his remains
deep within

III.
i have witnessed biblical punishment
palms and cheeks pressed heavy on stoves
searing flesh into ribbons
there is no ounce of mercy in its flame
but there is more than a surplus
of masochism in each of us
soon our clones will know
how to demolish themselves
with smiles
and stigmata
with daggers
then insert

# data[].attributes.body
I.
too tired to move
to count the wrinkles line by line
too complacent to shine
to allow them to renew their own lineage
age is composite
a composted heap of fly gum
dry crusted socks and soaked wet trash
compiled for my adventures
and contested against your filth
squalor is the only true champion here

II.
ahead by many days
though my hands have stayed behind
taken the in-between through my stomach
and purged away the recess
there is a chest full of bile
that ill tell you to the combination to
when the vomit
goes sloshing down your lips
and your words themselves
sound as disgusting
as the left sides
of all your intestines knotted together

III.
a quiet lull
holds stasis my refracted light
its a neon disfigurement
and colors that have no proper business
being well known
let alone being given identifying features
its the purple in the night whisper
its the green in the ocean lapping
its the dead shade of white
in the bottom of the barrel
where i have hidden all the others

# data[].attributes.headline
I met my friend at the depot, they came to renew our friendship. Honestly, I wasn't really looking forward to it, but I would allow them to prove their worth, if not for me, maybe to themselves. I would purge Misty in my spare room, as asking them to stay at a hotel seemed cold, after all, I did agree to give them a chance. I should not puff out my chest and give up like a slosh without giving it a fair go. 

# data[].attributes.subject
I met my friend at the depot, they came to renew our friendship. Honestly, I wasn't really looking forward to it, but I would allow them to prove their worth, if not for me, maybe to themselves. I would purge Misty in my spare room, as asking them to stay at a hotel seemed cold, after all, I did agree to give them a chance. I should not puff out my chest and give up like a slosh without giving it a fair go. 

# data[].attributes.headline
a very specific amount of membranes taken from a very specific amount of bubbles

# data[].attributes.subject
a very specific amount of membranes taken from a very specific amount of bubbles

# data[].attributes.body
I.
today i have asked for
a long list of demands
i want it categorized
by its merits for failure
and staggering surplus of woe
i need it hung across my doorframe
with a smelted iron nail
hammered in by a roman soldier
screaming heresy
with a violent caesarian tongue

II.
there is not enough room
inside this tunnel for the both of us to progress
its too narrow to even explain with words
but lets just say if it were made into a movie
we would grace each other
with mighty maneuvers and gallant swings
we would tease each other
without the need to apologize
for every time we connected
and bumped our knees and joints together
the bruises add up over time
but they only really hurt when i laugh
and i only do that
when you become dislodged from my spine

III.
there isnt enough flavor in grapes
to make me malcontent forever
ive soured enough things on my own
ive catered enough to the whims
of those that need it gilded prior
and adorned afterwards
there arent enough ornaments
strewn across the tree
and there is never enough snow
to blacken my toes with frostbite
when i just want to walk north
and count how many winter flakes
land on my bottom lip alone

# data[].attributes.body
I.
they stand on streets naked
genitals shy and exposed
they ask many for clothes
when it rains their bones glow
they beg for money and bread
but kings ignore their subjects
and sleep on a hoard of blood linens
and tapestries woven
in months and months
of war spoils

II.
from one analytical mind
to the next
the mishaps and hiccups
that we both cumulatively experience
are expected to replace
the urgency for result
from one lapse to the last
ive forgotten what i was supposed to watch
at an undisclosed distance
its curtains down
its audience silence
its a play without a cast
shakespeare would be ashamed
of us all

III.
this is the formula for permanent quicksand
all its chemicals transparent
for its victims to waltz right over
all its biproducts spewed out
on sweet cement and ashen lawn chairs
take it in
the resplendence of a brilliant aurora
once bright
once proud
lost behind mistakes too large
to get broken down into granules

# data[].attributes.body
I called my friend today to help me host our dinner.
I asked them to make smelt salad as only they could.
We had it every year at Christmas time when I was young, I never liked it then.
This was different than I remember.
I watched my friend as watching a movie I couldn't turn away from, my focus on the herbs and their use.
The heat scale, in the way they saute.
It was then I decided to try it again and found that was the recipe I couldn't refuse.

# data[].attributes.body
Clotho is the maiden,

Spinning Selene’s silvery silk cloak,

Imagining the hem dipping in and stirring the sea

Lachesis is the moon’s mother mid month--

Watching her waist with tape, hoarding pearlescence,

Saltwater brining a boulder within

Atropos, the crone, with a metal sliver,

Slices the sweet, cool dark

Into deeper darkness

# data[].attributes.body
I.
ahead of you
is a sword that cannot be removed
it is known by legend
and myth
it has shown us blood before
and it will soon again
weapons made by man
always have the chants
and the songs to give
them their proper titles

II.
patience is not learned
it is simply idolized upon routine
an ugly and nasty process
one obtained through merit
through marvel
through miracle
through borrowing
that which we mourn
but only when we have choked
on its splinters first

III.
rubles rupees and rubies
what prices put towards the whole
what happens when
we develop over development
categorize the fallen matter
sleep during the evolution
and redeem things worth
only their weight in spilled milk
there is no longer want
there is only absorb

# data[].attributes.body
If you see someone choking on a rupee
Go ahead and give them the heimlich
Go ahead and use CPR
Go ahead and chant 1 and 2 and 3 and 4 while doing compressions
Go ahead and save a life
Go ahead and the family might not have to mourn and their tears won't have to spill.

# data[].attributes.body
Lira rupee pound

coins spilt on the ground

euro dollar won

mourn the money gone

ruble dong dinar

nasty as we are

rand peso baht

choke on what you got

Dirham yuan franc

Ahead atail abank

Krone mark yen

Chant them all again

# data[].attributes.body
The bloke across the way had the most beautiful rose bushes I have every seen.
I don't know how he cares for them so well, yet remains so mean.
You would imagine with a trove of such fabulousness and vivid colors one would have to be caring, not just green.
Perhaps he has been stuck by a thorn one too many times, so their beauty can no longer be seen.
Maybe like other beauties of his past, the pain they left, left swill in his heart, more dead than alive.
His tasit knowledge to make things grow may never be mine to understand. I can't even make a cactus thrive.

# data[].attributes.body
See the rose:
blood on litmus
velvet petals?
No.

Smell the rose:
clean cotton ball
dabbing your wrists?
No.

A rose is a trove of thorns only.

Stems: tacit test strips,
bleakly vivid confirmation
of waking life

Stems: swizzle sticks
swilling grain alcohol;
sterilized for tomorrow

# data[].attributes.body
I.
hear the caw of the robins
echo no longer
smell the stench of the end
dissolving once pleasant aromas
you cannot dodge
what you cannot manipulate
when the birds lose
all semblance of navigational instinct
it shall soon become apparent
that we too will lose direction
and stumble upon our
unmotivated steps

II.
i once had valiance
daring dreams and bright ambition
now ive just swept them all
under the rug
just like the asbestos and dust
that send me shaking
into an epileptic frenzy
when i cannot
compile enough

III.
guide the nithing pole
towards the aspect of the sun
an omen
an implement
an edict
the believer in me
wants to cherish
the traditions of the blaze
but the cynic in me
knows that superstition
will simply let us all continue
smiling mischievously

# data[].attributes.body
Ultra-orange more than red, robins' breasts

advertise spring; the name suggests

appropriation, but they offer wishes:

Lick your thumb and stamp your palm.

-------

"Spring into spring": a strange request

to make, still shaking flakes from wings.

Lick a stamp and send suggestions:

Wish for nature's cynicism to be found unfounded.

-------

They lay still. You pluck their wings:

The aroma of life-sustaining sacrifice.

Project that nature's cynicism’s unfounded.

Dodge accountability by saying you're depressed.

-------

Ultra-orange blood, life-sustaining sacrifice

But remember: innocence means always acting astounded.

Dodge accountability by saying you're depressed.

Breathe out loud enough for all to hear.

-------

Remember to always act astounded.

Lick your thumb and turn the page.

Breathe out loud so no one hears

you taking all that you can get.
-------

Lick your thumb, tear out the page:

Nature magazine in a waiting room.

Fear says, “Fire is uncontrollable.

Scarcity says, "keep every bit of kindling"

-------

Nature magazine in a waiting room.

Ultra-orange more than red, robins' breasts

nestle hearts too hot for paper nests.

So hold your tongue or burn your wishes.

# data[].attributes.body
I.
eternity is no longer fluid
to mention like agenda
is to swill around the cankers
with used turpentine and grease
heritage is no longer legacy
lost within piles of bronze and gold
and seemingly
plucked from the backs
of baby geese
returned to their nest
without any feed
or mother

II.
ive got thorns aplenty
wizened ample and ready to aim
ive got enough revenge
stored up like thunder
wait another hour or five
and i too just get scared
there isnt a mouse among us
who would choose to scurry
up along the walls
instead of through them
to get their teeth inside that trove

III.
vivid be the name
of a god designed to quiet day one
in times of resplendence
or ordeal
wouldnt your rosary knots
unwind unkink and steep long
like a bag of english tea
or swing like any other pendulum
that i have already given first name
and assignment to
left
right
sway
repeat

# data[].attributes.body
I.
this is what happens
when there is nobody left
to claim the trophy with lethal rites
masters without skill
jesters without humor
only a hierarchy to which we must worship
but ladders built without steps
shall always impede certain progress

II.
behold the beyond
the infinite data that shows us
what exactly is behind the end of time
i would stop no one
pause absolutely nothing
and give myself an ulcer
to find any quantity of evidence
concluding we also belong there

III.
the childs illustration of a ghost
has yet to be identified
withered to the knowledge frame
though i have already learned
that everything already owns a shape
so these circles
can now be repurposed
into voids
into souls
into a specific amount of curved lines
somehow bent awfully

# data[].attributes.body
For the humor I needed
from needing to be liked

For the elder-daughter hesitance
to take up space

For the skill to always hold aloft,
and just out of reach,
the key to my desires

For teaching me to frame
my quiet diligence as worth

For forcing me to pause
and ask myself
whom I'm hurting
whenever I forget my guilt

I love you.

You wanted to protect me.

And now I am releasing you.

# data[].attributes.body
Humor could have you feel aloft,
distract you from those little issues,
that ulcer inside your cheek, though soft,
can be quite annoying and hard to ignore.
Humor will help you though that moment you realize that you are now an elder, you can laugh about it sometimes because if you don't, well, just laugh more.
Humor can lighten your day while practicing your skill, put you in the right frame of mind,
doing that job that has you for most part looking forward to walking out the door.
Humor is really so important in our lives to help get us through, it is funny then that it is the one word I almost forgot to find use for.

# data[].attributes.body
I.
there is rapid moisture
flooding our lungs
collective only in inches
we share everything now
between what we can
drown ourselves inside of
and what we contain
in the smallest shards of light

II.
those were the years
given back to simplicity
of chaos and redemption
of ancient riddles
with no plausible answers
believe me when i say
i know energy can be contained
its just that i have chosen
time and time again
to let it evaporate instead

III.
if bones are truly brittle
undeserving of structure
without purpose and integrity
but wondrously statuesque
like antique gothic architecture
what could possibly go wrong
if we summon
a quake so massive
sand itself would also shatter

# data[].attributes.body
Grounded.
Hands wringing,
pleating feathers.

Be still.

Through shards of moisture
into spectral prisms
shines the same light
that could dry
those laden wings.

# data[].attributes.headline
that time we rode the bus wearing gas masks

# data[].attributes.subject
that time we rode the bus wearing gas masks

# data[].attributes.body
I.
cherubim charm eyes
and such perfect teeth
white as pure sugar
with a perky smile
stretching from cheek to cheek
they say one wish on heaven
is worth at least five anywhere else

II.
over the knoll
and through the pits
there is nothing below my feet anymore
so lets just burn the dirt
wince from the aftermath
and let the peons in the ossuary
take detailed notes for us

III.
hear the sirens
taste the brine
touch the melody
listless through the salt
floating away across the aegean
mount up the anchors
strip down the sails
weve got songs to admire
and directions aplenty
to get us to our demise

# data[].attributes.body
This child mounting a knoll
in a perky petticoat:
She knew she'd grow up and forget,
sweet pea sugar fermenting into bitter wine.

Divinely compelled,
She held a dandelion
(but winced [plump fingers crimped the stem],
ghostly green bleeding smearing
bobby socks,
nudging rocks [like roots],

hands writhing in wrath),
and whacked it,
head to head,
against a daffodil.
Feathered petals dispersed
over the yellow dress.