splendorous zeal

at the lapse in breath
when you see it
you're cold and drunk because
it's all that's left

discard the
information repeat
discard the information
telling nothing
to these groups of neurons

blundering forth
we've made ourselves
in this breath
complex bacteria
fighting for it all

can you
read that shit back
to yourself
and not vomit.

the ice is near

and

it’s all very sad

so i tell myself

(knees clutched to my chest

dying of frostbite)

looking back at this page

reading and vomiting all over

it again and again

the ultimate hypocrite

rides against the wind

carrying faint echoes of Nietzsche

and the cries of his foolish wife

in a foolish world with BOUNDARIES

and GENDERS and NATIONS

i dry-heave alone

in this endless forochel

laughing and laughing and stammering

we are evolution

i am (finally) at peace knowing

this nonsense would always be written.

day at the races

these people

(with their iced lemonades

and polyester-woven shirts)

all look

like they’re having a really good time.

crack like glass

i see the world in her glasses
a fleeting white glimmer
waving to the breeze of cars whirring by
watching the reflection of the world
still spinning

i see her eyes working churning
searching and searching and searching
for the fracture (in those windows
to something that nobody but those cars outside
would understand) some breaking point
so those tears could escape their snowy prison
white like her marshmallow cheeks
so she could cry oh god she cried she cried
and she cried and so did i

i see a heart molding in some
stygian pits cracked like glass
bleeding and bleeding
and nobody cares there’s just those
eyes that know the past and want to forget it
snow globes full of mystery
beholding the whirlwind of love
(and a silky green ribbon)

i see her world through my eyes
deep and wide
alive soft pale blue
with nothing but clouds and open sky
as she takes to flight spreading wings to the sun
circling a broken tower leaning toward the dawn
as she bathes the world in a soothing wash of light
forever light
and clouds and clouds and sky and clouds
glowing clouds rising clouds erupting clouds
and applause
and something beautiful
rising rising light forever.

the tincture

they say life will start getting easier
but it gets
and it gets
and it gets some more
and it ends up in possession
of everything that has the capacity
to be gotten

and i’ve come to the realization
(a place some might call the precipice,
or the summit) that i have reached it.
i have ascertained
i have comprehended
i have evolved (so to speak) and
unwittingly become
abruptly displaced
constantly ajar
as if stuck somewhere falling
(with some broken-ass gravity)

but have no fear
i’m still right here
don't look up look around
and embrace that twinge of
discomfort that comes from
(FINALLY) questioning
look how high i am
up here i say
far away
swathed in ivory stone

but
you say i’ll quoteunquote
come back down (or whatever)
and somehow become
(what was it) happy
(happy yeah)
that i’ll somehow re-satisfy with
the way things are
skewed by me mister dark scanner
the shitty lens on this half-cooked
masterpiece
(IT IS WORTH IT
WE HAVE HEART DISEASE
AND IPHONES)

no no
the watershed, i fear, has come and gone
and a great stubbornness you exhibit in
agreeing on this point (sigh) so
i will go on hoping and hoping as long as i can
enduring (or whatever) as someone near to me
has called it
to keep on and keep trying and ENDURE
yesyes THAT is what i want to do
ENDUUUUUURE
(golly now this whole thing sounds sour)
i promise it’s not
i’m feeling a little lonely i suppose
i guess you could say
i’m simply uninterested in continuing
the cretinous manner with which i have
thus far engaged this poignant bazaar

that doesn’t mean that i'm packing
my bags (okay)
cause see i’m
weeping for this shit
i'm really trying but

i just
don’t really see a happy ending

sorry
i think one day
i just won't be
okay with this
state of suspension anymore
where i will finally acquiesce
and see (from the precipice)
there is only falling to be done
a refusal to grab on
or draw in the air around me

and sigh (inhale) my my
it is so fresh and beautiful up here.

only tragic endings

the need
to explode every word
harmonize what is discordant
and eschew even the essence
of structure
to spit green tobacco juices
on the face normativeness (look it up)
exalting someone for something
be of good cheer
your word is now yours (say it
OUT LOUD)

but scary scary
oh so scary
there cannot be a tragic ending

(please) christ is no more your spine
than you are
sighspinesaviorwhatever.

the spectacle of wretched and horrible things

(hit it, bugles)
today
on this frozen ground
where the steeds have lined up
for siege
queen and glory
nobody speaks

there must be that music
for a cheer (some sort of rally)
bringing lungs together
the rows of hearts drum
deep in unison to
open the veins (all the
more ready) to spill
out the blood and some entrails

onto these shields of our brothers
holding ribcages together
on the ragged terrain
frost kissingteethingtugging at the
two or three weeds who
bothered showing up
to this spectacle of wretched and
horrible things
where we champions
close our eyes give birth
to ghosts
hewing hewing away

with the very vibrancy
of some spiritual thing
in the blade
going deep
in the skin of him
or her or it

(fuck lost it) can’t
even see (too dark)
and the horses are

dead they’re all just dead
harnesses litter the ground as
they whimper the last of their moments away
knowing neither the name of the queen

nor the country
nor the brazen valiance of every rider
so bold so wise so full of reason.