Crystalized frequencies stabilize
the only thing you’re allowed to touch.
and the Summer Triangle drifts,
but it’s still there
and so are the particles
or the white blood cells
or the explosion eyes create.
See the pixelated world?
See the t.v. static?
Or can you see the picture?

I found my little field tonight
where a flicker works to glow
but forest arms spotlight just faded out drones

We know who you are and we’re pulling for you
but if you don’t step up someone else’ll take it soon

 The mulch and the grass you lay won’t roll.
It’s not like what’s below can see what you stole.
Caked mud and rock isn’t the same as water air.

So pretty please, if only for poor little me -
won’t you try and breathe up here in the heat?

Is this Japan?

 The space sure looks the same
Skyscraper compartment pods for rent
Glowing pinks and blues and greens and whites
Yeah, the night sky’s not quite night
and these people…
these people don’t speak our language!

 Where are you sleeping?
I’ll sleep on the floor.

I am what happens when patches come apart.
and the leftovers are just torn holes
they open for wind
and whatever else desires the insides

For comfort – warmth
to be held by anything
to say the sayings you’re told to say
and expectations of the same.
Mostly for other’s gain
and needs that keep me less than sane

Yes I am torn
but no cave to crawl into
I am not your shelter
I cannot elevate you to the next floor
and I don’t know of any words
anyone wants to hear

Where am I?
I’m still stuck in that classroom completely lost
and the only thing the teacher wants is my neck
Yes he wants an example
He can tell you what is right.
But smoke and dreamy eyes couldn’t care less
and Redface wants to believe he matters
So uh-oh — I don’t think I’ll ever matter

I’ve summered long enough

sleeping in bottled pools

and humid breath

tasting eyes disguised by mine

like a junkie vacuum

I stole what I could

The leaves fell but not near me

And the snow fell – but not near me

No more can I find a warm backside

on the fireside

“And the rain came down”

but didn’t wash anything away

I run through the same door daily

but I only see you there now once a year

You may feel new while you orphan the old

but you know me

and what you started

I’m still trying to inhale my lungs

It’s of the wonder you have of a certain carpet
and why there seem to be so many flowers
in vacant fields of hungover eyes
and worlds that I’ve never shown

Tears and quiet moments when no one knew you were there
and the words which were heard through the ears you don’t own

The time you slept in a bed that wasn’t in your room
The time the bathroom light surrounded your pillow
and you couldn’t sleep because your father snored
your sister wept, but she didn’t know anyone heard

When I think of hotel carpeting
I don’t remember vacations
just the need of escape and already being thrown