UNKNOWN NUMBER / Religous Experation

She broke the silver lining
and crippled a silver city
a temple of obscurity
i had no security
because it was the desert
and only the sand visits
the green mirror.

and im sorry that i cant hold still
and lay in place
but these oily scales
have me swimming in gulf coast rivers.

Irish holidays
ive wasted melting away
Looking for someone to hold these tentacles back
from bursting out of my head.


I could hold my own
but im afraid of grounded telephones
land-lines
that reach out and touch me
carving notches on old bones
broken and holding
holding in dreams

the way the concrete turned to stone
when the door closed.
i wish i could stop sleeping.

I slip into a green beer
with a wide angle view.
Veneer necklaces
chomping on my flesh
looking for whats old
"Buy what you know"
but ive been all bought out.

I dont pretend to transcend human understand
but I do know that when you go to sleep at night
regrets are gonna roll around
with or without me.
And so the dice keep rolling on.

I commit a crime here or there
and i do a penance
to make it back
to make it okay.
But whenever one takes a mile
i take a few steps
and the wood creeks so much louder.

--


I have moments of unimaginable action
where my heart beats accelerated protons
and i am critical mass on any god given beautiful sunday

I am motorized black tar poisonous scar
on inner city no smoking society.
I give blood to the earth
and the hearth cracks from the corner up.
jesus i wish atlas would swallow me up.

I have cat scratches
on the inside of my brain foundry
falling down a slippery slope
and i hope i wish i dream i would
make it to the bottom of something
not alone.

Theres a deathbed in a crystal ball
with a mother mary
holding my afflicted coil
wiping the fear from my eyes
and in that balls shadow lies
a reality thats cold and honest
and hurts to know
that sometimes you leave the door
you might not make it home
the same
and everything falls temporary

Your friends dont love you...
everyone is accustom to your face,
and the motel in keeper
from the town you decided to lose yourself in
points you to the bible in the dresser
and the bullets in the bench base.

I have vacancy.

--

Fuck St Patricks Day.
This holiday is stupid
my soul hurts
my body hurts
my head hurts
Downtown sucks
Downtown sucks
Downtown sucks
Downtown sucks
Downtown sucks
Downtown sucks
Downtown sucks
Downtown sucks
imsleepinginouch.

Atlantics

We are the colorblind
following the reflection
into the river
of the black gods
holding onto mirrors
"oh this is my boyfriend"
not at the end of the night.

You project a best foot forward
stepping down the spiral
of the deep city.
fathomable pressures
decompress youre seemingly solid
exosekeleton.

Iron clad man
breathing nitrogen
and hearing voices
from older places
air supply insufficient
collapsed throat
and cold sweats
my chest hurts
and i cant feel my leg.
grabbing at the absence
looking for a light
at the bottom of a glass.

You rise too quick
and you feel your organs explode
with the elecrtic eel wrapped around your neck
the halo is becoming more apparent
like a fire escape
to catch a breath
on the other side
of the heart monitor.

Call me to collect
my bones
from the trenches of your bedroom floor
when i roll off the bed
and onto the old.

a species lost.