42

This is a cause for celebration here in the belly of the swarm.
The situation demands that we raise our glasses in honor of the spokesman
We’ve fixated to the floor.
Give us your headline hymns and your saddest verse.

You’re not partnered with the half-hearted anymore.
Out legs are spread wide open,
Our weary heads are splitting at the seams
And we all know you’re proficient in the idioms of grief.
We are capable of the kind of love about which only the petrified can speak.
Concede him the microphone let him sing the triumph of the frauds to all his loyal sycophants.
We all cater to the fire, once the walls come rushing down for shame.
I can say it better than you felt it.
And I can be it bigger than you needed it.
I haven’t lived a day of my life apart from the one that everyone’s read about.
I’ll spark de-evolution.
I was specially bred for the cover page of your magazines.

I’ve been fatted up for the guillotines.
Sweet talker, you’re goddamn right I’m a blessed lamb.
I can show you all how to have a good time.
I know why you came here, but neither of us will get what you want out of me.
This room has one too many laureates so I’m keeping my peace.
Every candidate ends his life with a cliché,
And the paths of glory lead to nowhere but the grave.

I’ve been spoiled rotten.
Every thought I’ve authorized had curdled.
Not everything is poetry but I can’t convince you of that,
I’ve been drawn and quartered.
I’ve been twice picked over.
And it’s sickening what you’ve come here today to celebrate.
Fuck yeah we’re gonna party tonight.
I am capable of the kind of love about which
Only the intoxicated and the California bound can weep.

This is......

not the last nor will it be
letting sleeping dogs lie is not our speciality
but none the less
they sleep tonight
as I sleep alone
with none but the company of memory
i know what it was
and is
you held tight as if to squeeze the hope out of nothing
the feeling of your hand in my hair is the same as it was
the smell of you
and the eyes to let me down every time
Fill my soul with hope.
NO HOPE.
NONE.
EVER.
Set fire to what we know and hate.
My only hope is you will watch it burn with me.

With Wax Wings

We follow light all too closely
for if only a second
To have your rays fall upon us
melting our wings
we plummet back to
back to
back to
nothing ever changes
the ground just as hard as I remember
I felt my stomach drop just the same
every time
again and again
thousands of miles
or in the same room
you know who you aren't
and you keep holding my heart.
With none but the sound of your voice
or those tiny socks.
That hold tiny feet,
supported by an all but tiny heart.
BREATHE.