Tower on the prairie.
I can see you from a mile a way.
Like a giant
The tiles of color in my coffee cup holder
The weight of hot liquid held in my mouth
Is it sad
That I have to exercise myself artificially
To compensate for the evolutionary course of nature
We have destroyed?
Or is another example that confirms we are all God in drag
Walking around the parking lot
Driving ourselves to the gym
Making people laugh
Paying people to make us laugh
Rock in our mothers arms
Paying others to rock us
Take a brief moment to look at this floor
Feel the countless claws of dreams that have dragged across it
Kicking and screaming
Loving and encouraging
The heavy machinery of our lives and all the marks that it makes
Every tissue and napkin and plastic fork
They are all little bricks in the dream wall.
Use them thoughtfully
Send each one out into the world like a mother sea line
Hold your little seal-pup-used-applesauce-container
close to your warm beating heart
Then let it go.
(This poem was originally recited at The Tree Bar on October 11, 2014 in Columbus, OH)
Turn off the blue light
Take my hand
Walk into the darkness with me.
I know you are afraid
Fear is not a finish line
It is a starting point
Fear is a question
We need it like we need salt and water
The stale air of anger will choke like the poison gas of war
Anger thrives in the trenches
It feeds the meat grinder
Gives birth to bomb craters no mans lands
There is no waiting for the world to end
There is no limit to the squares on the paper towl roll
Life is a paper towl.
We soak it in.
We do a job and we recycle.
We’re not made to support enormous amounts of weight.
Our job is not to absorb blue food colored liquid.
We are here to clean up the mess.
No certificate needed
We are the certificate
We are the inkwells tattooing our bones into the earth and trees
Like heavy rain in a desert
We are here to make an impression and then smooth it over on a sunny day
Let’s stop treating ourselves like the objects that we think are only objects.
Let’s live the moments like we remember the good parts about the past.
It doesn’t matter if it was all a dream.
Live the dream now.
(This poem was originally recited at the Broken Teeth CD Release show at FOKL Art Space on October 3, 2014 in Kansas City, KS)
Don’t waste your love
Give it to me
Let’s rub it all over our backsides
Like lye soap
Let’s flavor it with lavender
Let’s find love in the most peculiar places
The skin if a humming birds beak
The soft snore of a woman
Heavy metal makeup
And pictures of arms
Sometimes starting is the hardest part
Fear is a monster with bottomless
Like a mouth full of cotton candy he will devour lives
And toss the empty bag on the sidewalk
Ich esse eine Apfel.
Ich esse eine Orange.
Ich esse ein Lieben.
Das ist gut!
Eat your Life
Eat it every day.
Devour it like a termite.
Like a starving person at an all u can eat buffet.
Not just a like starving ’cause you haven’t eaten since breakfast kind of starving.
A starving for life.
A Hungar for life. Like you need it every day, like air to live.
Eat it. Just eat it.