mounds of frozen crystal

mounds of frozen crystal

stymie cities

block production

and induce nocturnal friction

via omnipresent heat ablation.


I want you to feel the vibrancy of THIS moment

I want you to feel the vibrancy of THIS moment,

and sure, I may not be cogent,

but that does not detract from the potent, the soul net,

of these stitched together thoughts.

It may be the alcohol but my skin is caught,


hooked on your bait.

Thus we are both fish and fishermen,

I with my sinewy net,

you with that lascivious hook

and it takes no amounts of books

to know that these heavy-lidded looks

are magnetized. We do not tantalize no,

that was left at the sober door.

Sober clothes hit the sober floor.

So too did this post hoc poem,

flown from my grip as soon as you gripped my gaze

leveled those earth eyes through my fog haze.

And then we were fish, slippery and wet,

caught in each others’ snares and nets,

skin prickled from hooks, looks, feverish stares,

until collapsing we gasped for air.

The air – it is vibrating. Humming between us.

Fish and fishermen shimmer into blackness.

Time slides like oil in water

Interference pattern from oil on water

Time slides like oil in water

our lifetsyles are immiscible


in lipid slick seconds

the world swirls about us

all rainbow sheens and oil drop puddles

step right a droplet

and we float gently

sunlight glittering in our wake

If I could flit

between our densities

turn each molecule over in my hand

tweak their hydrophobicities

I would mix oil with water

I would blend our Time together

and sit with you in a galavanting bubble

looking down on all that glistens below.


You are not here to provide some

Status quo, head low, placebo existence.

You see, misfits fit the parts that we didn’t know we were missing.

We’re the ones lingering on hollowed out hearts,

Because that cardiac echo of “let go, let go”

Only needs a fraction of a contraction

To change to “let’s go! Let’s go!”

Because when the puzzle believes

It has conceived of all possible pieces,

When they think they are complete

When my God they are

Replete with ignorance,

We need to show them,

Throw them for a loop,

Stoop kid get off your stoop

Open your eyes to the lies,

We are more than just suits and ties

Or tattoos and knives

We are the young truth called youth.

And we may be a peg leg

But you need us to stand

And we will stand

Hand in hand

Hands reaching into that bleached

Heart of America

Beat the rhythm of our poetry

See your dollar idolatry

Because if we are all truly free

You and me are not some

Nameless and faceless

Denigrated scrap of tasteless


We are the light

The change

The spark

The hope and I hope

You are listening,

Hearing, feeling

The snug fit of

What you didn’t know

You had missed from

This here misfit.