05/13/21: Butter Sock

Last night’s water is today’s cannon fodder

tell me it’s been filtered they take a piss in it and wilt the builder

talk to me please someone let me know

the only thing that speaks to me is an old log in the blinding snow

“help me please, oh golly make me something new”

so I follow lines and curves and grain to change the old create anew

now its pretty, now its beautiful, I’ve got the hand of God and I gave it a single ounce of magik

a piece of me living in another

inanimate love an artifact of a single act

my play is pulp fiction and the cast is full of abstract diffractions

somebody smack me with a butter sock from Athens

better yet come over my head with a stone or rock

slide your feet on the carpet and touch me with a gentle shock

or maybe feel the film reel of your soul and pass along a mold a plastic mock a flock of birds with cameras in their eyes


up and away

no one taught me how to climb mountains we all see in our way

so for now ill inflate a balloon, grab on and zoom

til God hits me with a radar gun and brings me down when clocks strike noon

the fall feels nice, a cool breeze followed by a wake I create

then I look over and see the masses with oxygen masks and backpacks

sure they move slow with their walking sticks and hiking kicks

but when they reach the top no one dares write them a ticket

a cheetah couldn’t catch up to the speed that I attain

when gravity grabs me and pulls me back to my brain

not even a bag of feathers could look to soften the friction of the air

did I leave the oven on? no but I sure did leave my parachute at home

The ground is dry and cracked from desert to sky

the flats lie they whisper sweet nothings about how life’s alive

a mirage tells me a trampoline sits below

or maybe its a mattress or a futon or a cosmic dusted pillow

I always wake up before I hit the ground or I freeze

surrounded by scraps of rubber and a string silly me

eat up, take take your medicine

a spoon full of sugar helps the twine and latex slither in

I’ll happily oblige if the alternative is suicide

I choose to live cause I don’t know what happens when we die




I am primarily motivated by negativity; “do this or you’re a piece of shit,” “you don’t want to be nothing right? So do something!” I think this is because most of the role models I had growing up were perfect examples of what not to do, how not to be. I need elders, or a teacher, or a single adult in my life who is like-minded enough to warrant listening to because I’ll be FUCKED if one more adult tells me that the path to happiness is three squares a day and a good career.

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