Monday, March 24, 2014

house of cards


no connection with
politics or Kevin Spacey
I am dealing with 3d today
instructing hands and feet
to live outside the Director
busily engaged in computing
the opportunity cost
of gathering a pack
of scattered cards
as time slips steadily
down a 3d slope
and yet the hands are moving
gathering, sorting, counting
54 cards, jokers and all
must have the right number
to build a house

Thursday, March 20, 2014

the clamor and the hoarse


sometimes it gets unconvincing
as if the dirt path
solitary from birth to death
doesnt really exist
as if chatter, enough
can explode the fish bowl
teem it with color
or crack it with force
collect all the droplets
that arent tears or rum
and make an ocean
if we look closely
made of pixels
disgorging pearls, all the time
as if time didnt exist
sometimes the skin itches
as it tries to wrap around
the energy of forever
in the accounts of a day
and turn a profit
whatever that means

Friday, March 14, 2014

stomber


at a blinking yellow
where fools rush into
ice that slips into
slush that runs from
its annual home
my mood is dark and filled
with a mercy that dare not
speak its name
with sadness in a steel cage
rolling headlong regardless
of red or green

Thursday, February 20, 2014

sorrows in the deep


the last thing I hear
each day is the song of quicksand
as it reshapes the world
and reclaims me
each day I go deeper
wondering why I cannot
merge and follow the stream
as it becomes ocean
flow like quicksand
before it flows like me
I wonder why I feel
so madly deceived
as I sink down alive
buried in victory

Tuesday, January 28, 2014

nothing to sneeze at


its no coincidence that
I be pointing to my weapon
constantly
look, how sharp, how ready
to swing, with a back wind
even if it never swang before

its no coincidence that
I spend two hours each day
scraping at a stone
to maintain my pointy edge

its no coincidence that
stuff gets sliced around me
if I let my locus lapse
for even a minute
after all, we are contagious
hatchet hatchet