Concerning The Ghost

There is a ghost memory with many arms and eyes singing reason to the wrinkles in my hypothalamus are growing heads of lettuce go until they be a massive massacre of bolts on savory finger steaks of blood phantoms and book ends unto themselves the million minds dig us a nice grave of pyramid schemes? Scanning the filters of ugly Hawaiian shirts made of TV movies and gameshow hosts of virus ballroom dancing along the ocean brain. What a fine skeleton we all sleep with. What a fine summer nightmare.

Concerning The Mind

There is certainly a master
of joy robotics in a clan-
destined major metropicalis
of facilitated quantum egregious
matter smashers

However, one might not live forever enough to slip the noose around the heliocentric magnetism.

Thus, an electron has
enough friends to sleep in
The Void: The Expanding
Synapse: The Magnet is silent

The crime is the amorous knives of the iris singing the death of a mute voice.

Oulipo

The word plays in the mouth
It dances with the tongue
Slipping around the vocal chords
Racing back up the spine
Up and out
Up and out
Racing back up the spine
Slipping around the vocal chords
It dances with the tongue
The word plays in the mouth

Fatherhood + 1

Erin convinced me
To let Ronin run
With the boys, the wolf pack
And have fun: FREEDOM
One more night

Just let him
He needs it
it was the second
night of a sleepover
and I said NO, you must
study, study and be better than

But Erin finds my tenderness
He never gets to see
his friends

I submit

If only I could
throw off this cantankerous
personality and just
let
the
boy
be
a boy

Erin does me a great justice
softening
my callous hand

She is my better
my reason
my conclusion

Men of Reason

One must remember
That with every steel chamber
Every broken mind filled
With rage and mist

There is another
man of parts who

Is living every day with purpose
Trying, wanting to
There is a mother
A son, a something slightly
More
All the possible good is happening now

The sensation of arguments
Can you hear them?
Every piercing story
Rides alongside one of joy

Do you hear them?

Avalanche

matter scatters
matter sca tter s
matt er scatt er s
mat ter sc at te rs
ma tter sc at ter s
mat ter s c at t ers
m a t t er scat te rs
m a t t e r s c a t t e r s
m  a  t  t  e  r  s  c  a  t  t  e  r  s
m   a   t   t   e   r   s   c   a   t   t   e   r   s
m   a   t   t   e   r   s   c   a   t   t   e   r   s

Ami or Dust

Every once
in a moment
inside a thousand
Matt ( an ally )
will link up, with text
and a subtle, "hey"
"You still breath yet"
"I do"
"I miss you buddy"
"Ya, times are full"
"Yes they are"

It feels years removed
and still near as the voice
in my head.

Is he the hand of war
made sun?
Is he the choice of years
over moments?
What is a an ally, a partner
in crime, a voice of
hope and nonsense?
What is a stone soul
hero?
Can a man know?
Can he be what
Is needed most?

I could call or should.

We have a madness
of technological wonders.
Yet we only speak
when I can hug him
and shake his hand.