53. Time Lags When You Know You Have It

There was a set amount of

time that I

could waste before

having to

turn the rest over to things

of importance.

The minutes were well-wasted,

but I wish I’d

wasted them better

instead of

fearing their end,

never appreciating them

‘til they were

almost up and only

really getting

the worth of one or two.

52. Refusal to Agree

Our things don’t mix

as liquids mix together

or gases eventually come to

an atomic agreement.

Our bases, as you’ll see,

are very clearly solid

and they chip and break when

they’re pushed beyond the

limits of their forms.

            But in honesty – real perfect honesty –

            what would you expect from

            two daft fools who

            are so blind, they

            can’t even see to

            cut solid things in pieces

            and make jigsaw puzzles

            of two colors?

51. Never Truly Loved

When was the last time

Someone showed care or concern

for the thing called “you”?

50. The Tiniest Things of the World

I stood outside and looked up to the sky

And wondered how the sun could care to shine.

I’d lately thought that I should want to die

And I forgot the world’s views were not mine.

The loathsome clouds that floated overhead

On something like paper-stain of blue –

The gently grating warmth the sunlight shed –

Their arguable virtues on me grew.

These things weren’t quite so awful on their own.

The backdrop of the world was not my strife.

In fact, these things were, taken on their own,

The few redeeming factors of this life.

It’s odd, to think – the glory of a day

And I should wish to make it go away.

49. How Time Passes

Pass a loathsome hour

with time reminding you that

it exists,

that the hour is happening,

that things you’d

rather not do are being done

and then times that hour

by twenty-four, then that by

three-hundred-sixty-five, then

that by something like eighty

well you’ve got your whole

life, a series of hours

that they tortured you to pass.

48. how to ask (for) things

it was so long

ago, series of

            time

that I decided to

die in

            [ a universe ]

                        with

no clear(it)y

where an answer was death

            and to choose a

            question

                        [was?]

            life (?)

47. a bit of a liar in spaces

                        I am in distance.

                        it is simpler than close

                        when breath is not

                        an option.

but it makes

me sometimes

            wonder what

            life

would

            be

if taken as a

                        step-by-step

portrait

of

                        things that can be

            and with

free

and

spaces

            in between the compact lives

46. A Stoic, Rehabilitated

I am of my word, and

my word here is

“empathy”.

It was a promise I made

at some point in

my life and failed

at alternating habits in

consummating itself

but in that

time I have tried –

believe me, I have tried –

and to that end,

I must be credited for

keeping my word.

45. More Like Demanding

Ask and you shall

receive;

ask and I shall give.

            go on.

                        ask me if I will give you what

                        you desperately, achingly need.

“I have nothing to give.”

44. How Places Work

This was the sky I dreamt

under that strangely

enough always had

a dream or two for

me in the end.

This was what I meant when I

told you there

were still places in the world

of which the

world knew not.

And as far as I

can tell, it’s staying there

sky’s not going anywhere.

43. Life Confines

“If you could do what

you wanted – anything – what

would you choose to do?”

I don’t think like that.

I’m too realistic to

try to answer you.

42. Tea

Tea can’t solve

all my problems. It

can only delay

them for a very short time.

There is still a

universe that I must deal

with and do

not want to acknowledge.

There are still

people I have to talk

to and do

not want to think about.

There is still

my life I have to deal

with and do

not want to remember exists.

I do not want to remember that

the world is confusion

and I am a single note in its

cacophony

I do not want to remember that

I am a part of a thing

I hate and that there is not a

way out of it

save death and delusion

            do you hear me and why I do not want to

            see anything beyond this

            tiny field of vision that keeps

            sight itself out-of-sight

            because I do not understand it

            and it does not make sense

            and yet it expects me to

            make sense for it

           

            I do not like the things I am seeing

            I do not like the things I am doing

            I do not like

                                    the

                                    world

I do not want to remember the

fact that there is anything

at all except for my

mind that I am trying to ignore

and my cup of tea.

41. Tell-All

Don’t dole out secrets

as though they were

stories,

telling one to anyone and

everyone as a way

of earning their trust.

That currency by its

nature devalues

that which circulates from

person to person.

They don’t gain anything from

you, and you

don’t gain anything from them,

and as it turns

out, you’ll find yourself with no

real secrets at all.

40. timesticking

yesterday’s today it’s

tomorrow’s future

future looks back

time it is

            not the time of yesterday

            last time this yesterday

I imagined I’d be stuck in this loop.

I knew I’d have to break this

little clock

to prize open its yesterdays

                        todays

            tomorrows

39. Days that Don't Happen

oh for a day when existence

made sense of something

beautiful and when “beautiful”

was a word

I could see

and oh for another day

where breathing

was a delight and I

didn’t have

to fear falling

for my

knowledge

of

the sky

38. Dangerous

a patch of happiness is

a dangerous thing

it will give you hope, which

will dissolve into

nothing

making the lack thereof sting even more

            “Despair’s all right.”

            “The hope is what killed me.”

37. a perfectly normal silence

maybe we don’t talk

about it because there

isn’t anything to talk

about.

there isn’t anything

we can fix

with words, and

there’s nothing we can

explore

there’s no good that talking would do.

36. Conditioned to Accept Horror

“Can you believe it?”

            unfortunately, I can

            for I am conditioned to accept

            horror when it

            occurs in human minds

“Well, I can’t believe it.”

            you will learn.

35. Fairly Pessimistic

Morning is murder, and

waking up is a

sense of death

because night is where the

realities of

the world take place, and

morning erases it all.

34. hand in hand

these fingertips are only

blue-black for you

because that was the

sacrifice

I was willing to make

33. In Your Debt

Forgive me

            you’re not coming when I

            call, you’re not a thing for me you

            don’t need necessitation

I’ll accept

            nothing but your reprehension?

            your distaste and maybe loathing?

(forgiveness is a foreigner;

treat me the way you have been treated)

32. Success

Congratulations,

maybe. You’ve finally

made it into some-

thing that [never]

appealed to you

maybe it’ll

ruin you

but you got in, you

made the grade,

and it’s checked by

a lunatic group

that assigns percentages

[too?]

idiosyncratically.

31. a feeling of a threat

you’ve never felt (so)

            [understand]

it’s not your fault (but)

            [something]

you should know, this is someone (or)

            [else]

30. Little Nips and Natter

Little nips and natter, tangled in your hair:

Snip-snap, snip-snap,

And they still are there.

Here’s snag of sorrow, here’s a dab of doubt.

Pinch-pull, pinch-pull,

Still it won’t come out.

Little patch of panic, little pang of pain:

Nib-nab, nib-nab.

Still you must retain.

Days are damp with doubting, nights are narrow nests.

Press-push, press-push,

Never finding rest.

Little nips and nature, tangled in your hair:

Snip-snap, snip-snap.

And no one near you cares.

29. The Work Was Fire

either composition or

revolution/revelation? not

sure which the artist

                        means

            but this how it ends?

no it doesn’t but

it’s a start

a real actual beginning

with something made

            made to destroy something worse

the work was fire.

28. waiting waiting waiting

nightdripping.

my flesh is growing or crawling

and I am hiding in

cold, damp spaces in the hopes

that it melts away.

            morningstreaming.

            I am not there yet and it

            turns out to be only the

            thing I imagined

            (morning, that is, not the night)

27. Rage Against the Heavens

break the sky if it does

not serve you and

if it bleeds you

will call it “rain” and maybe your

lashing out at

the world is not indicative

of what you call “hatred”

            maybe it’s less intense than that

maybe nature agrees?

26. Dead

breath-catch white closing,

death-dripping, lifestain they’ll find;

So that’s how it ends.

25. Growing Up

Children are the price we

pay for being human;

they are the sacrifice we make for

remaining on the face of the earth

because every day, their innocence is

slaughtered.