this now.

when we hold hands i am holding everyone on earths hands all at once too  and we are all nodding slowly and looking into the others eyes and telling each other everything will be alright, that it's true, everything is going to be alright, and more importantly,  good.   things will be so good. the world has been wet for days, that cleanse song, like a good cry or a hot shower, it is a time to be quiet, a time for pits and patters, slow drips and the subtle tiptoe approach of all those greens. so i sit, and i watch, and i wonder.  there's a long road in my brain that i take drives on, listening to the air with the windows down, the cement dark and cold and complete, just how i like it. remember when we rode to the end of the world? we were there and we saw it. i had my arms around your waist and there was nothing but sand and sky and houses that were once whole but now just pieces, and i knew all about those but i stayed quiet and looked on.   i stayed real quiet and looked on. i still think about it when i close my eyes and right now everything is still but my heart is shaking, the air in my lungs is giving us a standing ovation, right now i keep thinking,
i want in and what i want in on is you.

words in a fort

i am no longer present.
or i am longer me, here,  nope,
 i'm a pet, in your lap, i am purring.
this was a dream about crowded attics and some little girls paintings,
this was a dream about seeing sound.
four flies in your orange juice and the stillness of a sleeping dog, but still, we go on.
the bells in that song feel like the bells in my heart, the collected clash and the hard ring, if you look carefully you can see it, i know, it's just like crashing water. there was something about the air today, something spritely and living, it had hands --- it said hello, just so, it said your name in a whisper.  i thought; i bet that pond would feel like skin, i bet the deer know how, i bet i could teach you too, if you'd let me, its easy. because eyes are for diving, forts are for climbing in and bodies are to touch, for touching, a light kind, a press, or mouths or cheeks or underneath ears, tunnels of ignited heart beats and breaths begging to be taken. i do not like it here in my head, so get me out - i mean it - pull me right out and let's land in love.
my heart is stuck trying to say this, it stutters and spits and i listen intently and mess around with the keyboard till lightning hits and the world lights up, the trees looking like the dark skies white veins. though sometimes the words don't fall at all, in your head they dance around like little punctuation marks that never let you catch them, "a wall of ladybugs" i heard you say from the other room and i repeated it out loud.
i find i want to take care of you but i wish i didn't because then i could just spit you out, instead i chew, always i am chewing. "come on in" i say without uttering a word, i show it at the same time as hiding, like peeking out of your fingers with your hands over your eyes. the clouds are cars in traffic,  cops pulling you over to the side of the road,  "license and registration" and a clearing of the throat. we have nothing to say. what happened was love swallowed me whole and i sat in it's belly for years and years twiddling my thumbs and playing all those wispy, cracking songs. don't look so concerned, officer, they say, we are only clouds, we are only guitar strings.
i dreamt, but i hardly slept, my brain ran around with no shoes on , the dirt caking my feet, the potential escape but really, just the inevitable ambush, the box in,  the falling fire.
whatever, one word answers, empty of blood
 i can't feel anything, you are in for it, what did i want? sky.
see, because i can't remember love but love remembers me and i'm sorry.
god damn, he said, and right there, i knew what the devil looked like naked, why sweat was cold at night and warm the rest of the time. i looked down, all there was to do, i saw my two hands, saw a bird, and in my head i could hear how tiny it’s bones were, how soft the wings would be, but i stop myself : i’ll let the air have the birds, my body too heavy for flight, so i go with the flow, as they say, as if, we were out to sea, as if that was all this was.


look, we're all flying, what they said about gravity, it isn't true, nothing is true anymore, ever, everyone lied. i'm lying right now, but you'll eat it up, and who knows? maybe i'm right, maybe i've hit the nail right on the head. god i hope i'm right, let's make this right. there once was a boy who was so heavy the ground sucked him in,  the dirt filled into his skin and collarbones, and whispered there forever, things he couldn't understand. you pretend you can't see it, but it's there, pick up the dirt and squeeze, you can feel everyone's heartbeats, the earths skin.  and oh my god, we yelled out, when we realized, about the flying, and the dancing! all of this dancing. on the inside, without any movement physically, dancing skin and eyes, fingers. we'll spend weeks in bed, our hands and hips will do the twist, eyes moonwalking, the white blankets, the cement streets, everyone will recognize us but we won't see any of them, won't see a thing. what i mean here, is the science of thunder and lightning, how these things work in relation to love, the similarities, the planet practically screams it all out, we hush it down. we never ask the right questions, we never got rid of the dust. you can only send this right here,through the solar systems. shouting into my ears like some dreamy alarm system, he-e-e-y it sings, cautious but loud, heycan you feel this? are you alive? right now what scares me the most is what might happen if i open my mouth. what might fall out, all of the oceans. all of those big heavy oceans, so ominous, so angry, stay calm, so infinite, carry me up on your shoulders, they're warm compared to the cold lapping tongues, slippery so i grip. too far out, i'd say, this is too far out. i'd pinch you, the skin too wet to respond.

bulbs of light

somewhere on the other side of the world a piano called me here, i was summoned. it told me, you, it said my name & i ran for miles and miles to find it and when i did i collapsed, i remember things turning a dull shade of yellow, like some magazine ad from the 60's.
i told the gravel to push me back up & it did and i smiled & wrote stories on it with sidewalk chalk, i climbed trees and swung from branches and kept the pine cones i found to give to you we could put tiny bulbs inside all of them and string them up like lights. you said "saeglopur" i said we'll find it everywhere we go, i said we'll follow the birds, my heart shook and so did your body and i thought we'd crack open the universe if we weren't too careful, that we could teach planets how to kiss their moons, my eyes were doing it right now, had their arms around one, watch me, i think, write this down. they say, all you talk about is birds, all you write about is shadows of hearts and season smells and the insides of people who want to be outside themselves but, it's all true and i just want to let you out. nothing left to do but aimless walking, lost sentences and fevers and clammy hands, i fall asleep thinking about how i always cheated in elementary school when we played 7 up and the bob dylan song that's stuck in my head keeps playing.
“Semantic satiation (also semantic saturation) is a cognitive neuroscience phenomenon in which repetition causes a word or phrase to temporarily lose meaning for the listener, who can only process the speech as repeated meaningless sounds.”


is that it's you

1. you are not where you come from.
2. are you where you're going?
3. where are you going.
4. nowhere. the car is parked.
5. when you turn a diamond in your hand and
 it hits the light just so, that is what is inside of eyes.
6. there is a time and there isn't a time.
7. now is the time.
8. just because things go slowly
doesn't mean they're not necessarily moving really fast, like light or sound.
9. there is no such thing as strangers.
10. the songs will  always
be the loudest  thing i hear. 
11. "in motion again."
12. there is more than one way to play the drums.
13. or any instrument for that matter
14. (your hands on me.)
15. the problem with lists is ending them, they never tell you that.
16. everything has an end. 
17. they never tell you that either.