Sedimentary Chest Cavity

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weeds, onion shoots
growing from the side
of abandoned dirt roads
careless carbon, without consciousness

not content nor contempt,
just being
energy in the atmosphere

always we press on
with the force, their breath
moving us through
eternity

the yoke splattered on my shirt
subtle reminders
that the soil and my soul
aren’t so damned different

and acidic pieces of death
in the air
passing through
keeps me moving
keeps me alive

the potholes 
keep me awake
on my long drive through Hell.

Reaching for Nirvana

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If my survival,

my humanity is

my adaptation,

could I be the

Hubris they’re looking for?

 

How could you adapt to change

If change is all you’ve known?

If change is your comfort zone?

 

How do you live

After the death

of security?

 

After the death

Of the ego?

Writing

My father’s used sneakers,
torn at the sides like a grimace

I tripped over the roots;
Veins, snarled knotted
The dark encompassing the evergreen pillars.

When the mud was hard,
crumbling like stale bread and the ground slick.

I slide backwards at each incline.
I rest in the stream bordering the trail of breadcrumbs,
Separate the scalp,
greasy pink slivers to trace into the cavernous crevasses

But the matches have been in my back pocket this whole time
hypothermia in 60 degrees won’t be the death of me.
my skin blue and cold to the touch, and the heart palpitates.
Once the beat traversed up cliff sides, vaulting over fallen trees,
but now it fades, murmuring, the rain on my face, the sap from the trees.

I find sustenance.
I don’t know if I’ll be here tomorrow,
but if the peak would be in sight,
I’d make it.

Inadequacy

It’s only in the mirrors that I see ghosts
The image shrouded by shadows

When it started
Surreptitious spirit blending into the background

Spending back word days
Peering into the mirror

Gradually it grew near
My reflection drained as it rose in stature
First it stood with a hand on my shoulder

Like I was
Someone for him to mentor,
to mark

In this instant, I can see it in me
My eyes are bushed and bitter

Eyes I’ve never known
A carnage of my character

A cleaving of my humanity
Check the reflected corners
Giving up
The feeling of smashing a fist through the computer screen
And jumping over the edge

The feeling of inadequacy
Like you’ve ascended thousands of feet
But looking up you realize

You’ve only just started.

They Call It You

In a world of gilled creatures swimming in their puddles of shit and piss
We’re beings anchored to their ocean floor
Guests in a broken home
Salvaging the air from the lungs of those less fortunate

Surviving by the mercy of the common man’s air pocket
Their hands clasped over your crackling independent squeaks
Screaming salvation from injury and pain
They’ll crush your unique lens
A rock through your only window

They’ll hold you back
Trudging through their grasp
Each pleasant memory
Breaks away
Like Pigs
Ripping apart slop
With greedy snouts
And desperate demeanors

They’ll poke and prod
You’ll keep swimming

The pieces that break off
Seeds planted
Growing to an unseen consequence

A tree breaks through the surface
Reaching up to the heavens
Praying for change
Our last savior crawling

They admire, you inspire
A panting observed, then ignored
A grey canvas with a drop of color
A beautiful Petri dish
Enduring their critical minds
A dissection

They call it you

The shattered Remains of a visionary
Placed in my palm
I’ll keep swimming
When it’s my time
And I drown
Use my broken hope
And make a raft

The Female Market

Please
Thank you
Eye lining strippers

Touch me
Fuck me
You’ll be my server

Have a nice day
You’ll be genuine, loving
Sexually addicted,
As long as I pay

Big, Fast Cars
Orange women
The margarita at the bar

Big Guns
Big knives
Tools of the
slave trade

Freedom is from the same place of the mind as apathy

Leave the bra
Hanging from the headboard
Tap dance on scattered needles
Like it’s a red
Velvet
Carpet
To the trigger that you’ll never
have a handle of

Let the teeth stain
A seasoned brown
With tobacco juices
A healthy veneer
Of THC

Drink stolen malt liquor
Like it’s a vital aspect
Of our composition

Like
without it
For three days
You’ll die