She'd write a poem
though she's not Emily
and sing her melodies
just like a robin.
She'd fly up high
with no real limb
and paint a rainbow
with ringing colors.
She'd freely dance
and read a book
and give a hand
while others seem hooked,

and if you stare
or have a glance
you'd only see
two balls of glass.

Inspired by this video
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9r7Dh46PKQc

This stroll I’ve taken time and times before.
Each moment was as pleasant as the last.
I’ve seen the trees and harkened to Stan’s lore
while trodding grass as green as days long past.
For green and lush they were spite all the pain
and now I can recall the loveliness.
The fear is still remembered, but as gain;
those lessons learned that helped me to address
the joys and how to keep them close to me.
And so I walk again with my old friend
to gaze at flowers red and blue he sees.

monochrome speakers
all the dust beneath the
seekers
this lazy little lie
will enslave me
till
i
die

remember september
cold and clammy
i liked june
and you liked sammy

till we threw that
mothertrucking
switch
and brought
it down

like a burning witch

say they slay
us brand betray us
we will never make
a stand
fall of the edge
and leave no plan

save the dayglow
mockery
of the missing
diaries

There came a knock.

Time had come to call
upon my friend,

not me. Almost every
thing was taken
except for a box
packed and left

empty

of paper and pictures
with little meaning
when the people in
them no longer
have
memories.

I pulled the linens

from the bed,
pissed and soiled
like a diaper wrapped
around a bottom

too new to care
for itself.

I flipped the
mattress over and
fell asleep,
tracing words that
leapt with rage