The V in defeat.

Take it as it is.
Is it you or me.
is it us or them
or none of us
and just them
was it ever a place.
where was the time.
i could see
the way we talked
i could count the moments
i was dangerously reclusive.
eating web spaghetti
in a cave full of metal horses
clanking restless feet
my black bones
avalanched to the floor
cigarette ash monolith
tipping forward onto
a shitty beard you wish
would shave your face
grow a new forest
full of tree spirits.

im sorry i cant make better sense
my finger is broken
unhinged from angery nights
fused to electric sockets
call me crazy
call me alone
call me blondie.
dont call me that you fucking idiot.

I am a comprised of eighty percent water
the remainder divided by Cuban European waring skin pigments
im afraid so much
because i go out of my way
like a burning man opening the door
for a beautiful lady
the goodness in me is drying up
and the distillery
isnt distilling the poison from my bloodstream
clogged pipes of bad thoughts derail in transit
to the sound of screaming banshees
buried in the basement
clawing at the walls
shaking skeleton chains
from the closet bolts.

My pussy demeanor
is crumbling under my student inquisition
aspiring
to be all i can be like road side bombs
flipping your geometry.

the curvature of the planet bends light
and the prism light
discos the devil
in a blue dress
inching closer
hiking the fringes inch by inch
grabbing parts of me
like my name was Orpheus
and my guts were in the river.

a thousand degrees of intermission
vaporizing my spirit
like the cold blue light
from the heart of the sun.

You cant sleep
so you embrace the day dreams
and fleeting alternate realities
you flipped a coin to choose.
I always said tails
when you followed me
out the door onto
the longest short porch
in the molasses summer
sweat drenched front seat phantom
i felt a piece of myself
fall out the escape hatch
and being made whole
is a feeling ill never know.

Cement sneakers
clinking beakers
like a wizard looking for the cure
to what ails me
in the deep end of a dirty pool
full of spiders with loose bikinis
draining me for attention.
With blurred eyes
the colors lose composure
but the star never fall out of focus
when they fall on my parade blimp.

I get accused of anger
in the third degree
or breaking and entering
the dream scape
when you forget is when you find
a pillow
in your bed head
shifted
displaced
ajar
open door eyes
flood for a minute
before the pumps start up
the thrusts
the old news papers
crumple to dust
on the ghost ship
out to sea
looking for a brave new world
where you can be alone
with everyone
and the skeletal double max prison
can keep your blood muscle
in solitary confinement for
the murder of two kids
just trying live forever.