"People Are..."

a Howl in the night, my brother--
as we ascend the moonlit road
with truth on our minds.
Why can't we?

We are onlookers in a room
full of stillborn fingers
glowing in the shadow of the night.

useless complaints
seem like cold handshakes,
unecessary toasts,
weeping over female tears.

(strange things put to use)
and we look at each other
as if

"On Christmas Day, In the Morning"

wake up

to thin paper cocoons immediately undone,
their contents consumed.
the floor is soon littered with a terrible refuse.
faces drain of anticipation,
as multicolored lights illuminate
fabricated smiles.

and then:

"that's it?"
(the offerings expire)
"it's not even what I asked for.
i needed more

than this"

the air is still and strange when
greedy eyes glance at sturdy walls
and stare at flawless feet.

The Garden of Earthly...

Recently have been thinking of this piece by Bosch and drew from it some inspiration...

"The Garden of Earthly..."


Split in three.
Heaven,
Hell,
And the interlude.


(triptych trifecta)


Holy Ghost apparatus:
produced me.


And God knows,
I decay.


Naked bodies, piled high
(insinuating
intercourse)


What I’m trying to say is
We haven’t got time
for most of these

rotting flesh

delights.

"And Yet We Wait"

I still crouch in ribbons of weeds,
bare to the bone.
apprehensiveness illuminating
men all around me.

I can't stand the quiet any longer,
so I ask them
what they think of the world.

"We don't know," they whisper.
"It's been a while."
we all turn pale.

Everyone forces a laugh,
until the wind asks us
what we're waiting for.

"Solubility"

Fit right in.
Watch the way you ask questions;
When I'm not even around.

I told you...
"I'll be down by the river searching for driftwood."
It makes me feel at home.

So don't tell me you're lonely.
There's no such thing as an empty room,
Only a vacant mind.

You could be here with me...
Getting lost upon fictional shores.
It doesn't matter if I'm not around.

The Hudson smells nice this time of year,
You'd fit right in.

"Riverside Interlude"

Autumn's mockery
Creates an absence of boats.
And the willow speaks for itself.

Half of a worn couple shows affection:
Speechless eyes and a limp arm embrace.
Why am I alone?

Cold brick slabs retain
River water overflow.
"A monument to those lost at sea"
True patriotism.

Scarce light scatters slowly
Over a family torn to pieces,
God knows why
The seagulls don't mind
The cold.

I wonder where the fish will go?
Swim away with me?
Brick and mortar won't last forever.

"4:00"

The fear,

When you frequent my dreams with silence.

Your lips, twined with wires

As we sit in pools of black, discussing.

The candles burn low;

(A signal to expire)

Your fingers, reciting unborn lines

Aid in transcending the advances of actuality.

And the figure in the corner with the watchful eyes

has no words to say.