recycled

of coke cans and pop tabs
a tree you shall be
recycled.
recycled
i'll be.

don't leave me. not yet.

checking for any vital signs of life
the bleep bleep of red on my phone.
a whole new meaning
to "the car crash hearts"
let me fix you in fourty-five.
worried sick may be the worst cliche
but as my hands shake and my legs falter
i cannot think of any other.
eyes wide
jump
at the slightest of movements.
the slightest of noises.
jump.
i'm afraid.
don't leave me.

as mailboxes come

as mailboxes come

mailboxes go

leaving nothing behind

but a few small crumbs

left by the mice

and the rust of a squeaky flag

to let you know

its occupied.

"do not disturb"

parametics

face blue
the centre of the target
eyes
shoot like arrows
frozen
amidst the the blurs
bluer and purpler
with each jolt
shake
shake
"wake up!"
tears flow
knees quake
earth shakes
eyes stuck open
a witness
broken
like a doll
in a crowded
shopping mall.

i hope that man lived,
for the sake of his family
and his friends.
and to the parametics.

footsteps

across my chest,

these footsteps

leave gnarled prints

of blue and purple.

smiles

heheh gums.

another day in toronto

pretend thats me,

prancing in magicalness.

oh deer,

someone looks a little blue
but its not me,
so it must be you.

:available upon request

girls in a tree.
one adam,
one eve.
girls in a tree.
bad. ass.

forlorn.

his spirituality is that of mine.

please mr.handsome

what lovely hair you'd have/

snip/

snip.

pretense

if we pretend something for so long,

is it bound to become truth?

teeth in my neck

look in the mirror, girl,

you,

and the rest of your species

are the smoke

that wafts

through the spaces

between trees,

and the gaps

between knees,

polluting

polluting

what all that came

before us

knew.

don't pretend

you're any better

than the juiced posion

that we are.

bite,

and let your venom spread

just like any other

innocent.

balloons for a dollar.

shocked faces

screaming faces

smiling faces

all with a hint of surprise.

happy birthday.

ps; don't cry

we could be in love;
we could be married.
and you'd write me lovenotes daily.

not quite the same.

that dear old chair

stuck in its misery

reckless abandonment

take me, i'm free.

free range

free dent

free dom.

you're over reacting and he's under reacting

the balance our species creates

between female and male

a cliche

and a type

(stereo)

but a generalization:

a working equation

that our humanity can live by.

over think and under

to react or the lack

a test we take

never to fake

a response as real as this one.

i saw god cry

How cruel is the golden rule?When the lives we lived are only golden-platedAnd I knew that the lights of the city were too heavy for meAnd though I carry karats for everyone to seeAnd I saw God cry in the reflection of my enemiesAnd all the lovers with no time for meAnd all of the mothers raised their babiesTo stay away from meTongues on the sockets of electric dreamsWhere the sewage of youth drown the spark of my tearsAnd I knew that the lights of the city were too heavy for me (too heavy for me)And though I carry karats for everyone to see (everyone to see)And I saw God cry in the reflection of my enemiesAnd all the lovers with no time for meAnd all of the mothers raised their babiesTo stay away from meAnd pray they don't grow up to be me

girl in a tree

an owl, a squirrel

a woodpecker too.

we all live together

and take turns in the loo.

fog

fog with me
blur the edges
fade the lines
and borders
that contain us.
fog with me
get lost
in my eyes
lose your way
all the paths
smeared together
with no way back.
fog.

clear your mind.

leave it behind.

mrrrow.

Laughing gas won’t make you laugh.
these jumbled words, you speak
of writing tea
and sipping
philosophy
with but one cube of sugar.
And then one day
we float away
on rafts of
roses white,
“Paint them red!”
she mumbles soft
in a booming voice
she screams.
and your regrets follow me.
Puzzle pieces tied
with the lashes of your eye
to the beds of my toes.
Balloons on your wrists,
pulling pulling
up towards the grassy sky
sink in the soil:
your feet.
Feet of trees,
eyes lemon yellow,
Birds fly beneath my feet.
Yet all that’s left
is the fading grin
of the frowning
Cheshire.