I Grieve the Fallen Mustard

His name is a bird
Fitting, he’s flighty
I ran into him at Sparkle Market
Literally
And the mustard in his hand fell
We both stared
Simultaneous resolve to pick it up
Instead, naturally, we fell into each others arms?
No, no.

Weather Channeling

I am the lightning
Indecisive
Taking the path of least resistance
and quickly forgotten

Now I am the thunder
Startling and harmless
Making a big scene
and quickly ignored

Suddenly, I am the storm
Raining the hell I held for too long
You will all notice me now
and quickly

Vulnerable

I have this unruly desire to purge all these secrets
and be free, finally

But fear rises
and grabs that nonsense and shoves it right back
and I’m numb again

I’m on the edge:

Looking down I realize I’d fall
I’d surely be a mess
splattered out there for the world to see
Looking up I realize I could be flying
light, floating

Common sense tells me that flying will result in falling
But doing nothing
Staying in control
Not feeling
Maybe hasn’t been a fall
It hasn't hurt, true

But self-protection is losing its reason
There's that slight possibility
That I can trust you and let go



So I leap and tell you
Everything

Pick Up That Newspaper

stop looking for problems
you don't need pity
you're not miserable
pick up that newspaper
and pick up yourself
stop being so deliberate
it's retrograde
selfish
you're inaction in action
don't lie, you know what you want
your tank's full already
turn the car around
and face her

It's a Jungle Out There

It’s time I made a scene of my own
Everything’s perfect (too perfect)
We’re at the beach
Our kite whirls past picturesque cumulous clouds
I’m thrashing inside—a syncopated rhythm
Juxtaposed to the perfect waves
Sun shines down
And finally I decide to tackle the burn
There are bubbles of puss gathering on my right shoulder
It’s ugly
This day isn’t what we’d like to believe
We didn’t take precautions
Two minutes and sunscreen would’ve been fine
Two hours a week and counseling would’ve been fine
But now you simply decide everything
And behind the scene,
Our made up, beautiful scene
Roams an elephant
It’s over there by the hotdog stand
I hate that it’s so natural
To blend into the scenery
I’m the fly on the wall
So I don’t have to address this elephant in the room
There are sharks in the water
Don't you know that it’s dangerous to ignore the truth?
It's time to make a scene

Stress

I wish stress could be stored in my fingernails, toenails, and hair
that way I could cut it off.

Nope

White room
Blank page
Tick tick tick of the clock
Tap tap tap of my chewed pencil
Fluorescent light buzzes dimly
Too bright
Sigh
November skin seems even more sallow
Under this clinical lighting
"Winter dreams,"
I begin
"fluttering like snow fla"
SNAP, pencil tip breaks
I flick it
Crinkle yet another sheet
And throw it
Missed the trash can
Look at it
For five seconds
Glance out the window
Distractions
Oh, there’s a dog
Pooped in the neighbor’s lawn
They won’t be happy
Back to the blank page
No,
No more writing
Thoughts would be trapped
Not freed

Your True Intentions Don't Matter

I'm tired of your ill-conceived advice.
Your words are clinical and sterile.
The blanket statements just prove
you don't know who you're talking to.
Your true intentions don't matter,
because it's impossible to see
past your condescending tone.
It's hysterical that you believe
your words will have any sort of impact.
You're not really concerned.
If you were, you'd develop some sort of relationship
instead of this tactless annual letter.
Get off your high horse
and try confronting at eye level.

Change

I really hate change
It just happens too often
I want to exchange
it for bills just to soften
the impact it has
on my mental health
I can't take the noise as
I jostle my wealth
Most change is useless
Take this for example:
Soda's made progress
A buck's no longer ample
One fifteen I paid
just the previous night
Inflation has made
buying cola a plight
That eighty-five cents
quickly fills up my car
That small change is immense
(Though I could buy a jar)

This One Is For You

Uncommon November air
Full moon
The yellow cushion of leaves turns into snow
Eerie, warm, snow-filled path ahead

one two three

The moonbeam circles our clumsy waltz
Recorded accordions aid our turns
Outside, free-floating, Fall

one two three, one two three

The morning's here!
Class at eight?
Scurry home
Unaffected, buoyant, spontaneous dance

one two three, one two three, one two three

I Had That Dream Again

I had that dream again
Where I'm standing in a meadow
A flawless meadow
And a violent wind
Whips grass into the sky
An uncontrollable sky
And the only other sight for miles
Is that egg
That colossal egg
Towering, yet auspicious

And on that giant's egg
Lies a wooden door
The tiniest door
Just big enough for me
So I run
And I run
To avoid the inevitable storm
And I run
Run, run, run
But that egg never gets closer

Exhausted, I collapse, cowering
As the clouds get dark
So impossibly dark
And then I wake up
And now, back in my bed, I wonder
Can't stop wondering
If there's something different I could've done
Anything to get to that egg
That elusive, unconquerable egg
So I can finally feel safe

The Riches of Life

The rant:

Excuse me

for not having the opportunity to discover the world as you do,

but unlike you in all your cultured ways,

indifferent about the world and its glory

because you’ve seen it all, done it all, experienced it all,

all the while wearing your prepish sweater vest, gallivanting across “the pond”

—well your blasé attitude sucks,

and at least I still have love for small moments that you’ll never appreciate even if you try because that familiar bored gaze of yours cannot pick up on intricacies of life after all your gluttony of this vast world,

and you’ll never be released from such apathy because your sophistication cuts you off from the thrill of a swing or the feathery frill of the wind across your face or simple things

like good wallpaper.



Calm response:
Your jealousy leaks through your jumbled mess of words;
for it is apparent that you wish to have the affluence I possess,
so that you,
too,
can summer in Spain and enjoy the fine cuisine of France.
But well done for making the most of what you have.
Bravo, dear.

In My Khaki Pants

I built a great time
hyped up and perfect
Started and ended
without any regret
But I was entitled to more
so I undermined it

Had it all planned
Every step tenderly placed
I'm spotless, pure
She's the one to blame

So I press in, throwing rehearsed accusations
There's no way she can dodge them all
and she doesn't even try
She's not as malicious as I hoped
yet I don't stop the barrage
Too proud
Too hurt

Masochistically bent on destroying what I love
I ruin her night
and poison our memories
Her admittance should be a victory
but it feels like defeat

We had something real together
but now it's a twisted game
and forever corrupted

Stranger Things Happen

I entirely entertain insidious incidents
Pertaining to pestered people
Namely you and me


First you fiercely fix
Your eyes on me

Second, secretly, seductively
You corner me

Third, thirstily, thoughtlessly
I dive in your attention

Dangerous, damaging, delectable
Inappropriate, indifferent
Saucy, seductive
Insatiable, irresponsible
Intimate strangers

Collegiate Learning

Rumor has it that you learn at college!

Well,
college taught me
that emotions can be felt
without making me any less,
so I tried it out.


I’ve never felt better.

Handily

A handle in hand
Is handy, indeed

Coffee

Coffee, you bitter solution
of powdered beans and steam
Made tasty via dilution
Load up that sugar and cream

Coffee, you bitter solution
to Monday morning despair
An enormous contribution
to efficiency everywhere

Coffee, you bitter solution
constantly offered to me
A fight lost in the revolution
cause I'd much rather drink tea

The Masks Are Off

She feels intensely alone
Reduced to pathetically shaking in the car
Feelings bottled,
corked with naivety for too long
Wants some sort of release,
but she can't even cry
Just shivering, shivering

Street lights amble by
Intermittently revealing her trembling hands
Her face is a cadaverous shade
under the fluorescent glow
Driving automatically,
her destination's no longer in mind
Occupied by only a question

Puzzles Always Go Faster Together

You’re puzzling
How do you expect me to understand when you hide the pieces?
Whatever
That’s your decision

But here’s the secret:
I love you even with those ugly parts

Beta Vulgaris

You sicken me! You’re so bland
And after that growth spurt you’ve been awfully canned
You’ve gone through a season. Yes, you’re maturing
Getting ripe, sure, but not more alluring

Hidden from the world so that you can grow?
Surface-level living? Yeah, you’re a pro
You’re tasteless, for sure! Just sit there and rot
Sooner or later you will go to pot

It’s time to discover vast life in store[s]!
You’re not unique, though. Of you, there’s scores
You’ll be taken by force and cut with a knife
Red liquid will flow from your sorry life

And at parties you sit on the table edge, gleaming
Waiting hours on end for man to give you your meaning
Guess what, you’re not raw! What you are is cold
And there’ll be no takers, except for the old

For a veggie, though, you’re not all that adverse
For libel, however, I will not reimburse
Beets, don’t take it personally; I was only ranting and raving
Wait! Right now I have a slight craving

The Writer's Block

I've got the writer's block
And after checking the clock
I've decided it's too late
So you'll just have to wait
For something that doesn't . . . suck?

Just Dance

colors flash
rumbles shake the soul
bodies elastic
beats bash
moves are fantastic
desperately trying to look cool
people mash
let's have some fun
she's beautiful
limbs are spastic
out of control
she's left for the bathroom
figures clash
whiff of perfume
she's back
no longer a dash
slowly being spun
into one
there in the black
sweat melds
position is held
compelled
to hold her tightly
make the advance
feel her breath, slightly
consumed in a trance
just dance

Aglow

Black night, never-ending
We run

Anticipation
Cares release
Jar in hand
To the backyard!



Soft glowing puddles—
The air variety
Form ponds
Ripples swell
Glitter
Alive


Momentarily our giddy chatterings silence
We linger
But ever so shortly


Cupping hands flutter
So unnatural
This nature
Of course we must capture this



Gathered around the bright jar
We discuss the inhumanity
But there’s holes in the top!

Can such a thing be captured?

It's All Germane To Me

Deutsch:
Ich stand vor dem Wasserfall,
alles war nur Nebel.
Ich fühlte nichts und sagte nichts,
hoffend, dass es nur einmal,
besser wäre, trotz dem Schmerz.

Aber plötzlich geschah was ganz genau;
ich sah hinaus und in dem Grau,
kam ein schöner Mondenstrahl,
in dem ich mich doch fand.

English:
I stood in front of the waterfall,
everything was simply fog.
I felt nothing and said nothing,
hoping that for once
it would be better, despite the pain.

But suddenly something happened;
I looked out and in the greyness,
there came a beautiful moonbeam,
in which I found myself.

Guest writer: Danny Hawk

I'm Afraid of the Dark

What wiles will the night conceal?
Must I muster the courage to find out?
I'd rather wrap myself in my covers,
curl up and let my thoughts coalesce into dreams.
I can conquer the chimerical
but I'm bested by the unknown.

I lack the bravery to leave my bed.
A single step, and I could be stranded,
without a way to return.
Even if I try to trick it,
light a lamp and reveal its secrets,
there's still black around the next corner.

So I sleep, slowly letting the good slip by
because I'm too focused on avoiding the bad.

Carl Sagan

Carbon chauvinism? It is true
By A Life in the Cosmos debut
A mystic at heart
Hidden from the start
By fie'ry evolution ballyhoo

The Party's Over After the Masquerade

Feigning politeness
You're flimsy and sightless
Mocking whatever scares you

Been acting a part
Have it down to an art
That sweet girl, she hasn't a clue

But sooner or later
she'll find you betrayed her
and take back the heart that you stole

Left begging and crying
you won't give up trying
to fit square pegs into round holes

Puppies, Fall

Furry, chilly and dead
Soggy, silly, inbred
Freakish and frightening
Hallowe'en lightning
Browning, infrequently fed

Harvesting, corpses, rot
Corn, now ear-less and caught
Whimpering, wailing
Cries unavailing
A flavor not often sought

Sinister pale moonlight
Snagged a Chinese delight
Let's sit by the fire
in autumn attire
and cook our dinner tonight

The Embrace

she’s lost
exposed
and cold
And drifts to a nameless destination

joints ache
head pounds
feet run
The frantic cold whips at her tingling skin

“Smile, you!”

Shaking, she hugs herself
Adding one more barrier against the world,
Bracing herself

Again,
“Smile, you!”

She steadies her gaze ahead
Ugly salt rips shamefully down her cheeks

He caught me!
She realizes

“hey, you!
it’s me!
come here,”
He shouts, awkwardly ambling after her

The calc. kid, she sighs
She doesn’t bother to wipe her tears

he nears
arms wide
then hugs
And steps back to study her secret face

And remarks
“So,
You smile.”

The Telephone

Expectedly cheerful, her voice sings to me.
Unwavering, lively and always busy.
Wouldn't mind talking an hour or three,
but we can't.

How's my day? It's fine; and yours? It's good too.
Are those sniffles? Oh, my. So you've caught the flu?
I would love to drive there and visit you,
but I can't.

Rambling transition-less, awkward and flailing.
Trying to get her to stay, but I'm failing.
Wait, I think the next topic's unveiling,
but she can't.

Despite that she's hung up, I'm still hung up on her.
Thinking about how things are and things were.
I could call her back and let feelings transfer,
but I won't.

Exits are 10, 7 and 19.

sneaking horribly, slowly
smelling horribly, always

ever drawing near
clawing, ever here

crooked arrow
fly!

suction feet fail
whimper and fall

You have slain the Wumpus.

Lands' End(s) Summer

Oh, Karen Durst
You lent me that coat
I admit,
I had my doubts

But that thing is rad
And also magenta

It warmed my heart
And also my arms and torso
And stuff

You’re a mad lady,
Karen Durst

Please, though
Let’s avoid politics

Covergence of an Infinite Series

Near
To me
Sit

Back
To me

And I wait

For the turn
My turn
We turn

And finally meet
(In calculus)