slip

 

and fall
and cue the zap of a pain
slink up the spine
and back again

ice is nice and ice is right and god is good and i suffice and we will all sing and dance

little to no warning. little left. this, a sense worth sensing. a pain worth paining. 
these, all god's good children, each of them, yelping in harmony, pain receptors,
sing these wounds to sleep. sing this sleep to something deeper.

sing and dance and find romance and let the body understand

after the white, hot flash. little to nothing compares. what is left, anyway? we are all one simple step from perfection. one simple slip from making the circuit a cycle, a cylinder. completion.

right on time.

never far from home.

fanfire and ice

 a reminder: if you want to read my latest project, you can view and download rorschach. here's something else entirely

go tell it on another mountain
but not this one. we're all out of patience
for announcement, for accolades. we're up to
our armpits in the resolutions, the absolutions,
the institutions, the inspired chants, the liturgal
epiphanies, the mathematical and cold pronouncements,
gender reveals, pet gotcha days. 

we've had our fill, these glimpses into hellfire. these convivial pitchfork and torch gatherings.
get thee to somewhere without surprise and fanfare. get thee something good for your troubles. sweet, sweet oblivion wrapped in bacon. served with a garnish.

we're telling you what is what. who is who. when is where. and so on and so forth. like clockwork. depend on it.

go tell it on their mountain.
go tell it over there.
go tell it, if they listen.
let them deal with it.
we've all had our fill. 

rorschach: a digital zine

January came and I decided to craft a project. It started with daily writing and it quickly took its own shape and form. I decided not to print it and made it available to you, warts and all. Here is rorschach. Feel free to download, print it, or do whatever it is you do with it. Let me know what you think.

grown up nightmare

ink blots...your future...know yourself on 2/8. here's something in the meantime.

grill times     everyone's smiling    my friends and yours    
    i will let the sun shine    sing song and warmed beer    everything coming up coleslaw

            hum along with me    hum along with you    watermelon down to the rind
flies waiting with tender hunger    tooth-marked husk of corn    water slide buffoonery

some days    we're made for it        some days    it's made of us

                                                bring us the condiments
                                                demand satisfaction    do we even know each other?
        little acts of friendship    everything is coming up at the end of the night

we can't wait to do it again.