not completely wiped – 12/1/12

12/1/12 3:26pm – 12/9/12 2:40pm

not completely wiped

everyday is spent wishing not to be
scheduled by work.
to be able to come and go as i please
wherever each day would place me.
it’s only fitting the day places me
where my words start & leave you.

without scheduling who knows what
time would mean to me.
it may be that the working day helps
in grasping.
some part of me believes it keeps me
planted in interaction.

even now i find myself hiding in the
bathroom of my work not pissing,
but compelled to document observations of
the environent and others.
sitting on a toilet seat not completely
wiped & better for it.

the arrival of balance – 12/1/12

12/1/12 12:29pm – 12/3/12 2:05am

the arrival of balance

i only don’t wish to speak to you
because i’d rather listen to you talk.
any word i contribute is one less word
of yours i’ve allowed myself.
thank you for your availability.
i’d rather you not call my name and
have to answer you with the whisper of
retreating steps.

you’ve delivered me to the realization
that all my words should be put to use
upon arrival.
whether or not you meant to.
your casual conversations can be looked
at in two ways.
i choose to view them in the most
sincere light possible
the latter not worth mentioning i’m so
convinced of the first.

watch as they write you off with your age.
which is hardly worth mentioning either.
they would just as soon write you off
if you struck up these same
conversations in your unchiselled youth
or in the ripenening that can be seen
following us all.

they leave only a cracked window for
you and i.
little do they know; for themselves too.
when may I ask is their birthday?
& on what day will the same hands
that cracked that window be heard
tapping in hopes of rentry?

a window can never be a door.
therefore they should not treat it like so.
those who crawl to pass the time until
the arrival of balance are not invited.
those who crawl because they’ve walked
for too long receive no invitation.
but never has a man who has entered
by window done so by any different means.

the blow of the right unfolding – 11/30/12

11/30/12 12:36pm -11/30/12 1pm

the blow of the right unfolding

this left sleeve has put up a good fight.
my patience, tested, is ready to put to
bed any business unfinished.

the right has been nothing but a model
of perfect behavior.
it’s folds remain in place as they’ve
been told to do.

i keep recalling the right as i frustratingly
finish & begin again with the left.
only left wondering how i got it right
on my first attempt.

retracing the mold leaves me with a cheap
imitation to display.
the blow of the right unfolding is softened
after coming to terms with the left.

putting a strain on the truly effected – 11/30/12

11/30/12 1:47pm – 11/30/12 3:59pm

putting a strain on the truly effected

at the end of the box-cutter is a worry of mine.
aside from stitches an accident sets back everyday tasks.

putting a strain on certain hours of the day.
the early twelve affected little to none at all.
the waking hours are the truly effected.

thinking about blinking – 11/29/12

11/29/12 3:41am – 12/9/12 12:04pm

thinking about blinking
(celebratory signal)

everything that the desensitized
present is i am, but also everything
that I am against.
i do not find shelter in it’s comfort or
comfort in it’s shelter
i do my best to fight these bouts of
micro sleep.

to think of all the lives i’ll have lived if
i can just rid myself of these eyelids.
these same eyelids allowed to shut at
sight of uncomfortable moments,
but most times do not.
these same eyelids that can not help
but blink when the sound of clapping
appears.

even this celebratory signal is enough
to send me into a fit of strobing reality.
this involuntary action may be
all that’s left relating us to those who
have come before us.
to remain feeling organisms we must
retrain ourselves.

no longer can we hold open eyes for
the indifferent to blow air into.
we must choose these moments to rest
our eyes.
when faced with picturesque moments i
will struggle against the body’s
involuntary will to overt eyes.

my rubber neck – 11/28/12

11/28/12 5:48pm

my rubber neck

there is a fire outside and i don’t even
care to test my rubber neck.
think of the lives in need of saving
because i am not.

the smell of smoke has not reached me.
the pangs of hunger are of more
concern

where i find my next meal that’ll hold
me off until the one after is at the
front of my lobe.
surely someone will stop to help them.

quick fading moans – 11/24/12

11/24/12 1:19am – 11/24/12 1:47am

quick fading moans

we started together, but now i’m alone
she finished first with quick fading moans

i tried to keep up with my eyes on the goal
now anything’s better than this toilet bowl

i’ve turned another piss into an excuse
to finish the job she’s left me to do

her scent stays with me as a constant reminder
that once i was close, but now i must find her

an ugliness about her – 11/19/12

11/19/12 12:59am

an ugliness about her

thought i heard knocking against my bedroom door.
could it be my mothers come to end us all?
maybe she’s finally had enough.
the flip-side of the coin tells me that
she’s being generous not leaving me
around to deal with her body.

there has always been an ugliness about her that
has nothing to do with her demeanor.
a permanent shadow cast in front of her nature.
i know her unwillingness to express anger
& frustration is all leading up to a single act of
black-out madness.

all i can do is keep my door locked until then.
will i let her in?

eating for two for now – 10/30/12

10/30/12 11:02pm -11/11/12 12:37pm

eating for two for now
(a stair for each month)

brother,
the bed you wet has not yet dried
& already others laying at your side
you’re taking turns rubbing faces in the wet
it’s how you’ll learn ready does not mean set

go & play nice; don’t you be rough
no more pushing now; enough is enough
go & play nice; don’t you be rough
no more guessing how many stairs is enough

brother,
the baby fat you still call yours
forms another after melting from your pores
seed that you scattered sprouts from her soft skull not yet closed
creating matter from what is usually disposed

go & play nice; don’t you be rough
no more pushing now; enough is enough
go & play nice; don’t you be rough
no more guessing how many stairs is enough

enough is enough

a tanline to remember – 10/29/12

10/29/12 12:44pm -11/3/12 8:59pm

a tanline to remember
(a lawn of hair)

years & not a day has passed without
wrist being associated with watch until
now.
all I’m left with is a tanline to
remember it.

this hasn’t stopped habit from forcing
my face to it’s previous whereabouts.
an arm lays outstretched.
shortening sleeves that would have
covered it.

only a lawn of hair stares me back.
the hour that I think it is not so.
in times like this I look to old sayings to
find comfort, but it can’t get easier
with time while living without it.