"Do we even like each other?"
Echo asked as she twirled
and twisted around my feet.
I was green when I faced the river.
I ripped to shreds dreams that never
came and I came undone.
But you come again and again to steal
my breath and devour my soul.

I listen carefully and exhume the sound.
Earth still clings to me. My bones lie
scattered.

partitions
meet your fire on the first flick
taste that heat
first sure lick

crush heel sweet relished life
that trick twist knee
that shouts its bitter agony

jump into flame
this loves ignition
aspiring
the thick dark fingers
beneath the skin
across the flesh
raised goosebump fresh

swallow words this
ghost ache
burning through
veneer of mirrors

wear your ears
and dance crippled
weary floors with
dirty feet

Some people aren’t materials for first class
When it comes to academic or group work
Manure rejects gold and accepts the grass
Some hate pigs yet delight in eating pork
Middle men coordinate within the ranks
Between those who have and the have not
Sweet rewards swell the vaults of banks
They tried hard but they just could not
Their names were called, like others
Amongst those who passed the test
Those who failed were also our brothers
Third rate, may be, but that was their best

What can I say of your poems?

I would like to own them,
hand-written on parchment with torn edges.
I would like to stick them on my walls
and keep some in my pocket
to give to strangers in the street.

That little stable in Bethlehem,
had Gods almighty love.
For He sent angels there,
praising from above.

That little stable in Bethlehem,
had a star above its roof.
That star shone with great light,
for it served a mighty proof.

That little stable in Bethlehem,
was where Jesus was born.
That left angels singing
till the star of morn'.

That little stable in Bethlehem,
affected us it must.
Angels singing, "Glory to God in the highest!"
Those heavenly hosts we trust.

I wanna wing my abstractions in flared brushes
dipped in frightening rays of fiery flight
soaring above your passionless pit of poetic posturings
and shit some sense into your unopened view,
because We sir, are your peers!

I wanna misuse your precious language
until it's not only accepted, but expected.
I wanna fuck Plath in her silvery mouth
after pounding Ezra's stale metaphors
up his racist white ass, all while watching
your reactions, glory in your disgust and the
ill attempts to look away.

I'm taking off my robe and unpacking my street clothes,
I'm trying to get into the Christmas spirit,
ever the Grinch after his heart had broken open,
but you see, the red kettle isn't big enough to feed
the starving world, and there are children living on the streets
without even a manger to lay their sleepy heads.
I think about fishing and fisherman at times like these,
the pristine summer sun and all that green, the smell of the wind
as it blows through the forest, juniper and mushroom

Love is a biochemical reaction,
The heart is just muscle and blood.

The brain's a swirling mass of convolution;
Confusion sweeps in like a flood.

The world's a metaphor for odd fantasies;
Reality is the great killer of inspiration.

Mad men are they who dwell on revelries;
And eccentrics will die of starvation.

Love is a biochemical reaction,
And lies are the tales we love to hear.

The world's a canvas for sour dejection;
The painters are those who can no more bear.

the muses
their bodies writ
with mystery
their minds
a wander of sharp
twist gardens full
of winter birds

I smelled your oranges
gathered in the bowl
the warm wood floors

you were writing
then
like all the yesterdays
drifting in the drafts
about the window
frost

Christmas time is here!
Our hearts are full of cheer!
Baking pie with mom tonight,
while Santa makes his flight.
Decorating trees!
We worship on our knees.
Our Savior loves us without end,
our cuts and scars He'll mend!
Our stocking Nick will fill,
our agony he'll kill.
We pray to God throughout the night,
that He will cleanse our sight.