Hunker down now
With the molecules
Don’t let them know the face you’re making
It’s getting too dark to taste the water
So find a new naked self
You’re not going to find a better guitar in this lifetime
So play like the sound is real
Envelope envelope
Walking till the hairs grow thin.
I bought a web domain
to have a go at being real.
I’ve been unreal
for a long time–
living in odd places–
places where people
aren’t supposed to live…
open mics
message boards
Twitter…
Now I live in palaces in the sun.
Now I’m finally real.
My words live in houses of the wholly realized.
Contrary to popular mythos
there is love on the internet
and it comes from knowing there’s
a home for broken sentences
and calcified syntax.
it bonds
with the strength of horses
the churning
of liquid hooves
all the glue boats
are stuck in the harbor
you’re on your own
and feel like sinking
if we are living we are not made of stone.
our bones are not broken yet.
we’ve made our houses in the shade
and our blankets are dry for now.
we dream of drinking light
and our shadows turn to bricks
with which we construct new libraries
and all the books are made of
our best stories
our best shelves
puddles splash forever
light crawls into pores
the sun is only softness
and never shades of brutality.
all business dies.
all business dies.
and the curse of commerce is lifted
She’s asleep in bed
dreaming of charging demons
and sugar plums
or whatever it is she dreams
I’m a night creature now
to escape the demands
of the day
where all the sickness of the sun
swelters clammy flesh to stinking
and the garbage takes on new
molecular forms to perfume the neighborhood
with coffee grounds and dead diapers
I’m allergic to the ultra-violent Texas rays
In a few hours the solar climb begins skyward
and I will climb into bed
where I will dream of cities made entirely
of dumpsters
I can’t stop dreaming of trash.
It washes in–
tidal
and soils everything pure.
you never question the character of a mountain
until you’re on top of one.
You realize that up here is just like down there,
only higher,
and you feel like you should experience
something more profound than this.
So maybe you post a picture on instagram
of you meditating on the mountain
to give the impression of the profundity
you think you should feel.
You get lots of likes
and people think you’re profound
and you let people think that
because it makes you feel good
and it gets you laid
sometimes.
It doesn’t matter that you’re a fraud
because so is everyone else.
Because nobody feels what they think they should
on top of a mountain.
It’s all propaganda put out by the
mountain industry
to keep people hiking
up listless climes.
