I

I am torn between

Being or not

The state of torment

Continues as a knot

In my throat

As a large knife

Racing through my brain

With a pair of scissors

Cutting the passion

Into little obsessions

Replete repeated constants

Are the Inevitable compulsions

Thoughts of menstruating through the grey

A matter perpetuating

Into the tormented moment

Thinking of you as good

I am, as wrong, as you are good.

II

I am tormented as much

By the hurt I inflicted

Upon myself

Then the pain

Inflicted by others

We all blister and peel

Seep on to the ground

One step after another

Dripping our existential semen

Upon the clay beneath

Our soiled feet

Praying for the rain to stop

Before it all swallows us alive

Alive! How can we be?

Fucking ourselves fighting over

Every bit of cash

That gives us not even comfort

Cum for the second

Is pleasure for just that long?

Then the menstruating reality returns

And he________sits in his corner

Changing my reality for the day

48 December 8, 2012

Do you remember when?

The sky was falling

U.V. and Ozone tumbling

Our skin was burning

Do you remember this day?

The abstraction was clear

Moving wasn’t steps in wet clay

Oh, swimmin’ in you dear

Now; there was a breath on the water

And it all got muddied

Torn bent and turned to fodder

And the importance of life scurried

Seems of all only one good moment

Refrains from testing the leaving door

Stands waiting sometimes in torment

To carry our blame or die on the floor

It is always a moment for you

So free in your pastoral field

Colliding’ with life under a sea of blue

Swimming through days with armour and shields

Then a tail wind of something dark

On a snake, belly slides out of a cave

The worst things grave and stark

Empties and hollows my soul and grave

In the days before the falling sky,

Were we ephemeral joy in a sigh?

When the shadows came on high

The destruction came and a part of me died

I am the greatest of evil

I lived in a man’s body

I lived as strong

When weakness should have

Been my comfort

I became impervious

But shredded my armor

49. December 8^th, 2012

Not every memory is broken

The forest thaw in December

Of tree letting go of final leaves

Come take a journey by token

Into a gallery frosted winter

Where no darkness thus bereaves

We are free

In the Memoriam’s first verse

The scene’s crystalline air hangs

Around tree and trail and fox hunt

Feel the scene of this does un-curse

All that comes and hears the bells clang Inviting this wintering eve’s cool the cheeks blunt