Monday, June 17, 2013

feeling my future, that youthful sense of danger

1.
hungrily awaiting a time
a BBQ that will never come from the ground 
to hear what you are finding 
doing myself alone
shooting baskets filled with grassy blankets 
my shoes tell lies about another sad corner 
scattering like lost moths 
dreaming receiving 
half-baked marveling at it all 
unsupported irony humbly 
I sure hope perhaps 
undone by my own repetitions 
tiny Xs in the air holding my phone 
the mismatched plastic chairs my clothes 
saying all kinds of without 
my mind crying
parted like greasy hair  
trying to look like I'm not 
smashing down remainder feelings 
while feeling 2000 miles away 
so hollow the invisible bedrooms 
I watch the scrawny kid chewing gum 
all the soil turned over 
on a website I can't name 
pretending to be young radiance
blacktop dying quietly 
tiny Xs in our eyes taste really great 
none for revision or about you 
tradition the invisible bedrooms 
my mind 2000 miles away 
the form-fitting youth without 
new-found bed always on time 
handing rocks thru a fence 
I sure am without you 
but our fields left fallow rocks 
thru a fence we parted 
greasy hair crowning the head
that youthful sense of danger
on the arms of strangers 
for the 4 millionth time 
flushed and gleaming 
like the hand of a lost child 
found and barely feigned 
lost without you I just can't 
coughing alone smudging 
I cross the street outside in the unrelenting light 
warmed over by zoned out intuition 
I'm getting nine sunburns 
smashing the universal distance
a lack of faith while feeling so hollow 
in exactly 2 tiny days 
with Xs in the air 
crying in my sleep 
about your barely feigned communiques 
trying to look like I'm holding my phone 
zoned out intuition 
I'm not trying 
seconds after peeling the cracked cement 
the mismatched plastic chairs 
in words say "crushed hands"
dying to hear what can be heard 
the sun coughing alone

2.
trying to look like I'm not feeling 
so hollow the invisible bedrooms 
hearing what you are doing 
distant and lacking faith 
a scrawny kid pretending to be young 
a shooting sense of danger 
dirty and unresponsive while you're elsewhere 
smashing down remainder feelings 
the 4 crowning the head of a hope 
your brownies holding my phone 
filling the glassy blankets 
the cracked cement lost lost lost 
dreaming without without without you 
none for trying I watch 
while revision or tradition hungrily waits 
my clothes will never come 
saying all kinds of things on the arms of strangers 
seconds after peeling all the soil 
turned over flushed and gleaming 
dying quietly 
from the ground crying 
while I sleep things cool
zoned out by dirty intuition 
I cross the street in exactly 2 days 
we scatter like moths 
another sad corner 
tiny Xs in our eyes 
crushed hands dying 
no feeling in my future shoes 
tell lies about me 
finding me alone 
only tiny Xs in the air 
chewing gum for the millionth time 
my mind 2000 miles away 
our fallow fields left lost 
found and lost without you 
down remainder feelings 
in exactly 2 days the heat the sun 
receiving half-baked on a website 
I can't cross the street numbly 
cooled unsupported perhaps 
your own repetitions undone 
unrelenting communiques 
in the barely feigned light 
we park outside the greasy radiance
blacktop dirty and unresponsive 
to hear what can be heard 
marveling at all the words I just can't say 
all taste really great 
like the hand of a child warmed over by the universal 
while you're elsewhere and unresponsive 

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