Maybe sun rays choose what faces to make bright.

They weigh the pros and cons

and find the right ones to fall upon.

Maybe I can finally feel that warmth for once

To fill up my pores with something I want.

Have you ever been a thousand years old

For just one moment?

Have you ever seen the sun rise

Twice in one day?

Can you imagine what would happen

If things stopped making sense?

Send money for drugs.

(For me)

My head is exploding-

   My god,

   These magnolias are beautiful

   As they faint

   All over the ink-spill post-dawn

   With shadow women, flowers full-figured.

With what if’s and why not’s-

   Those eternal have not’s.

   Magnify me, darling.

   There’s not much left anymore,

   Our America

   Is burning in a trash can, again

(For Her)

She dragged me dignity and all,

Back through those treacherous thought tunnels

And onto magnificent magnolia mattresses.

   Fuck…

   It can be hard to adapt

   … and where

   Did I put

   My keys?

I keep losing

        What can’t be spared.

Maybe if I just did that on purpose.

(For us)

Doesn’t this morning taste a little different?

Like an evening colored with a still coming sun.

There’s light rising on the horizon,

And we’ll live through the highs and

   Lows.

Nick and Tom

He stood upon the precipice and noted the changing weather.

Those ancient rusted ships sunken in the ocean, whether,

By storm or bloody battle,

Never hear an engine rattle again.

And farther still, he searched the waters.

He spied a fisher’s boat a little farther.

The nets were torn, and the fish were free,

To swim back to their schools, all shimmering.

But closer still, he felt the sand beneath his feet.

The pulsing earth that gave life its beat,

Cracked apart, and the golden snow filtered down

Into the unknown darkness held below.

Just remember dear that this will pass

Like forest fires that leave dust in their path.

That’s the way of life, it seems,

To leave a little space to grow again.

A valley of dust and a bare track to run,

Always try to lace up your shoes before your turn.

I brought everything I had to your front door.

I brought all I had, and I brought more.

You looked at my own sorry lot,

And told me all the things that I’d forgot.

My old journal with cracks that show too much

Matched with the crease along my face, once tough.

Then you ran your fingers against my trash,

And I knew I couldn’t hide my past.

Well now I have an avalanche.

It sinks me down beneath its depths, and I think it is warm

at first.

The cushion of snow and the less that I know,

Give me peace under that mountain of cold.

The white seems less bright from the inside out,

And now, it seemed, I was fitting in to a mold.

I want to capture the stars in her voice,

And listen to it every night before I fall asleep.

What do willows have to weep about?

They’ve never had to bare their hearts to the test,

Out in the woods to the West.

Their bark is rough, and they can rest.

They stand tall but hide their face.

They haven’t fear of what to make

of themselves.

The most self-loathing of those noble trees.

I forgot how to yell,

So I whispered instead.

And when those silent sighs slipped out,

I found myself saying secrets.

Later on, I tried a room temperature volume.

It was jarring and of course,

Coarse like sandpaper.

When I trained my tired tongue to build up,

To scream and yell, I found myself trying to tell

The thoughts that scare me most.