pulling the blanket off the window
did little more than let in more light

the early mornings haunt
haunt like childhood bogeymen
under your bed
or wrapped in your hair
or nestled in the crack of your ass
with the promise of some
glorious self reflective explosion

empty walls now
layers peeled and ghosts eaten
bits of long time memory motion
 stuck between dirty rotting teeth

internalized fear
grinding the panic against the pavement
with bloody broken fingers tattooed with
stupid words like "self" or 'championed'

long known patterns
deep etched in thigh flesh
with bones from
childhood future dreams
sharpened by constant
present conclusions

a venerable feast for the secretly holy
the body construct harbors more
in silence than the innumerable
screams contained in the space
between bedroom doors

Call me:
Gratifier
Rapid Fire
Strung tight, head slumped.
Push-pull as to not fall backwards.

Encompassing the absolute,
absolutely
will put wrinkles on your brow
and scare away every other
person you want to kiss.

Brazen and lustful
you speed ahead, thunder-ready.
A calf’s head coated in gold,
you leap from post traumatic sleaze disorder
into some vague sense of
"this may have been all you have hoped for"

In the bar at my old work tonight
guys were talking sports
it sounded like calculus
someone played Add It Up on the jukebox
I maintained my composure
by making some joke I can’t remember
about the girl that kept telling me I had a big package
she grabbed it on her way out
I made another joke and rode home with my sister

I was completely out of my normal element tonight
it didn’t help me any
I wrote notes to you in the margins of paper bar coasters:

"I hate having to go through all of your shit"
"Why did you leave you fucking asshole"
"killing yourself was the most beautiful thing you’ve ever done"

I felt like little Suzy homemaker all weekend with guests over
I think you’d be proud of how well I’ve managed not to just go fuck shit crazy.

So there I was,
surrounded in the dark.
there were touching hands
and passing glass
and undercurrents of shady secrets
There was an unsurprising lack of interest
when It was found out I didn't have any
offerings to give for the god of young hearts
and heavy headed as i was
and heavy hearted as i was
I fixated on something else
and it all passed away.

This is a rough-ish draft

I dream of you in fishnets. not fishnets, but
fishnets.
the kind you catch fish with.

you, doused in butter and creme fresh.

i want you.
lay you down in the bed i've made for you....
the bed i've made for you out of skeleton hip bones, head brain crackle,
and cigarette packs cut into
a full scale replica of the entire spanish inquisition.

i want to scrape the dirt from under your nails with my teeth.
i want to fuck the crust from under your eyelids with my fingers.

can i be your dairy maid?
your father figure?
your naughty politician?

if i your hands were bound
to the shower curtain bar
and your feet
stapled to the floor
i could project film regarding the
sex lives of geese upon your
thin pale flesh
i would eat popcorn and
masturbate
i would douse your head with
kerosene

This love barrels through me
like a freight train sometimes
My heart hangs swollen heavy
My body, slumps weak

Post operative haze,
I travel in past time regression
to a place once been
but never felt.

no revved engine ready to roll at the slightest sign of a green light.
no intertwined skeleton bones holding space as to not fall apart.

Seeking:
sucker fish pronouns
lip locked engine revved
speed champ
cosmonaut.

It was predator snake vision red stains
It was a blueberry smell in the dairy aisle
It was a moon beam dragon beast lifting rabbit heads into shopping carts
It was that feeling that
somewhere somehow someone
had your best interest at heartSee More

The air in the subway station
smelled like so many early morning
grade school lunchrooms.

Plastic cereal boxes
juice cartons
mild anxiety

you're gonna be late for the second time this week.
Sugar Smacks...
you recognize it now
but there's no one eating them.

Last night you exploded in the revelry of
past-time prophesy,
bearing fruit in
four dimensional
meat-space

your brain took this shift
in cosmic head-bang fashion
flipping switches and cranking gears
for an endless procession of
twitch neck muscle jerk
padded wall prattle
and the braty-ness
of a sixteen year old girl

"I'm painting!"
stopped an advance and
set the scene

A whole house caught
in a blue haze
your mind wandered
lustful and proud

a one handed angel
guided by fear
rekindled your ability
to self-render love

you fumbled with your shoes
this morning and missed your bus
it's back to autoMelton
and another day of
blank-stare moonbeams
roasted turkey nightmares
and the notion of
a better tomorrow.