Uncles

Calling our names backward and

leaving nothing to the imagination

digital eyes pry past our insides

stealing your breath in the process.

Why did you ask why I ask

so many questions

if you were just going to dance

on my answers like feedback?

Spitting tongues at those red eyes.

We'll blink like we have a purpose tonight,

no dreams for analog deceptions.

Half Full

Blessed my lips with something like scandal

as I explored what was left of her human vessel.

She was plenty empty but her implicit objectives

were too good to abscond to probability, or Canada.

Left me feeling a specter; what a dark assignment

she turned out to be. My nubile apprentice,

I just wanted to see your insides

maybe fill them a quarter or so.

Combustible

Damaged goods,

never taking it easy

on his readers.

Slipping hints of

discontent through language;

still searching for that

first time high.

If nothing else, he's

proof of blackened wombs

and malignancy.

Oedipus

Trenching through knee deep personality
praying for quicksand, I know
tastes like plastic wafer skin
are meant for my palette.
Falling victim to strawberries
blowing kisses at no one in particular,
St.Confession left me wanting more
at the bottom of the hotel pool
where we learned to leave
the most beautiful things.
Bodies blush, all over.
We aren't dead yet;
give us time to blacken our thoughts.
Oh, just confess Oedipus.

Younger Eyes

Slicked lenses,

we didn't know better than

vaseline love.

She even bores my camera.

Chasing spiders around

drain spun webs.

Collect debris from

a timeline orbit,

pretty pages.

Remember your number.

Choose Your Own Adventure

It's hard when you know what could be.

And when does potential love

lose its beginning anyway?

Waiting for words to be forgotten

I'm sticking around with two feet

half off the ground and

a door ready to close.

You're a genuine inquiry to me,

tempo dragging a little.

Maybe it's up to me to cut

this two/four bullshit

and hike it up a notch.

Or eight.

My thoughts are always illegible.

Secular Love

Onset.

Counting back to get up

higher than my single mind allows.

Give me speed and strength

I can do this alone,

but enlist the help of thirty others.

Little help they may be,

but fallen in love

has my stomach.

Georgie

My sweet sea serpent,

tied to the rain

sinking in the sky

you leave me

wanting more mountains to climb.

Lucky

Non-threatening tip of tongue speech

she had me at "compromised,"

cracking sidewalks to

break the luck of strangers.

(Backs too.)

Strategically placing

her ladders in the clouds.

Watch your step,

she's got you too.

Black cat alibis left me

wishing I was still tongue tied,

unbreaking mirrors.

Revolving

Put feet down and

through the screen.

Stuck with glass doors

and storm windows

we'll let the seasons adjust.

Expect six inches,

enough to flood and float

our now jumbled

human condition

caught deep indoors.

Speak sun light and

cast this drought

downstream.

The Island

Moving

hearts to islands

and back.

Disposable tact

coupled with

first time insanity.

Wicked west wisdom;

blowing up lighthouses.

The stress of the flash

fades the soul faster.

Caviar

Capital numbers, I'm releasing endorphins.
Last call petals fall and line the way
to her demise (quicksand)
while ballroom bound, dancing ghosts
entice walking tongue planks.
Dive into your words, disconnected.
Find something I missed and
tuck it behind your teeth,
for a special occasion.

North

Fragments.
Bones shattered from straining,
like necks looking for land.
Heart breaks a little every sunset
because you said he would always
guide me back to you.
Plagued by stars, I'm finding trends and
calculating clues in the dark.
I'll sleep with my eyes open,
floating on a feeling.

Revolution

Tar drip down the sides of your mouth
left hoping the worst, you're singing in vowels.
(Still got a pulse, so this should be good.)
I'm waiting, anticipating all bare back beats
spilling from you're mind, now capsized, and
you've forgotten to keep time again.
Let's dance. And dream.
Someday we'll find meaning.

Seek

Huddle to think

and find a cave that

bares your mark.

Closing In

Time bombs marching on
with a lost cause
concept of time,
sevens and dimes and nines.
Was it worth it?
Wicks too small
for safe ground.

QueenB

Only interested in physical manifestations,
no forlorn desires to reach beneath
and

eloquent. even speaking of her
poking and prodding hipbone goodbyes,
only grazing the surface of where we've been.

Waiting for the second wave.
Unfocus. Blur.
Sinking.

I'm afraid to blink.