if ever i should just begin to walk
down this anxious street
that goes into the mouth of the tunnel
where we all take refuge from having to rationalize the next three nano seconds of our lives
the subway tile old and cracked
fossilized grime keeping the fading pulse
what would it be that i’d think of
the history or the art
or how we got to be entwined by the tyranny of the city
or perhaps by the 32nd step deep
i’d think of the flower district
giant sunflowers in painters buckets drowned by murky water
the baby’s breathe
as bright and lively as the milky way
on the ground
the spell broken
the steam of drying liquid
smelling of clorox and slime
around step 68
out from the canal of the tunnel
the cracks and scars on the walls
have turned into cuneiform
symbols and communicators
mournings and encoded confessions
my sins beyond
the daily bustle
Anxiety
enochian LA
through my fingers they speak
flutter swiftly laughing
translucent and sometimes wicked dark
nonsense to me or you
yet in my dreams
the tomes of history explored
poured out the morning after
through my crooked fingers scrawled
self
orange peels fresh in the sink
my finger tips scented by their honey
outside the heat lectures the breeze
little birds lined up fluffy down ornaments
i ask myself
self what will you do today
and i answer i dont know
you do that everyday self
arent you tired
and i answer yes but not like how you think
the birds are still
the window thick but i can read their beaks i know theyre singing
and i say to self
self how about oatmeal
the Irish kind with a little cream and fresh peaches
starring with blank eyes
at the punk rock collage
stirring the cinnamon and sugar
my 4 year old self giggles out from the jar
pig tails tan corduroy dress
bare tiny foots and a Disney coloring book
self instructs me to stand
and i walk away from her
gehenna #619
some nights silently
arrive late to meet with me
to plan the party
his motor dies
in midnight stroll cool ocean roars 12 steps away
time clutches in between my thoughts i am unforgotten
sea salt on my lashes tips
flowers closed and snuggled away
my cold left ear catches a rift of a stray gull
every step approaches me as my thoughts are unforgotten
a childish smile caterpillars across my chin tucked under my achy hand
as i move on looking through chain link walls in hopes of finding sleep
then theres a clock his face is lined with human history
from the instant hes wound up to the moment his motor dies
we are unforgotten
legs are still by the sand dunes edge
a 7UP can glimmers
my cold fingers hidden beneath folded elbows
my chest fills up with moonlit air
to be alive at waters arms
to ponder on why i think Adam Duritz is the Robert Smith in Bennie and the Jets
is why alone with the night time thorns i remain unforgotten
born to wander
doc is gone
Los Angeles breeze
weary leaves heavy with dust
nails of my fingers
chewed down to bloody chipped stubs
agony and mind control
not feeling well
sleep cradles me im on the lawn black rolled towel holds my neck im tired the train screams and my eyes pop open i get the sensation of German mustard on my tongue and think of mother we called her by her name an extra insurance policy of disconnection although i never knew what she really felt then the Pantry floats about memories of standing in line on Figueroa at the mouth of downtown when downtown was a city there are signs lights most unnatural sports sports drinks sell sell sell dont think dont think dont think i saw a man in Victoria’s Secret robes worn out of poverty then im tired no more then im angry again defeated and dissected from my nature patches of this and that round off the frustrations of seeing this world pass by falling into abyss and in all my time i have done nothing
dislocated ribs
there are bright yellow red hearted blossoms waving at the cars
trees screaming with a hundred demanding little birds cleansers of the earth after the war
telephone wires obselete and dead
wireless carriers facilitate what’s next
skies gloomy skin tanning albeit
here in my new home away
from the sores of tough living
my body moves more
still the pain gets stronger
wars can still reach me
the curse of gab from shallow tongues
remind me that i’m not enough
and that my fat rolls and brittle hair
are cause for alarm
not that our Mother is burning
i too am fragile to not cry
too salty
to not have the strength to soldier on
i’ve made an executive decision
today i’ll have no viewpoint
instead i will experiment with hummingbird nectar
and hope that they will come and partake
their wings without rest
their bodies steady in the air
thoughts scurry in my head
and the heart
hasn’t found her resting place
still lingers there
between dislocated ribs
for all times sake
two feathers
before this moment
i didnt want to kiss your lips
stroke your cheek or bury my pain in your hair
before the moon put on her gown to hide the scars paparazzied by the sun
i didn’t want to hide in that deep well of your warm strong arms for fear of being sold down that cold toxic emotional river
before you before tomorrow before my death two feathers from your wings fell into my poisoned dream turning them into golden keys opening a paradise
words less spoken 