words that can’t be spoken or spelled (20170225)

i am less an open book to you
than a blank page

you write on me with your fingers
your words sink into my skin

like your teeth
and i am tattooed by your multicolor voice

you do not erase
only write over the soft, pink scars

replacing old
with new

the touch of your fingertips
like a singing water glass

untitled (20170223)

little new in the news
(little love lost between late lovers)

i thought i was a cynic
defined once as a failed, frustrated romantic

but

that’s a digression
that’s a depression
that’s a diversion

everyone wants to be
a snowflake these days
perfect
unique
fragile
as ephemeral as a cherry blossom
and so so cold
so cold you can’t expect
any warmth
just a glint of light
reflected and refracted
an impermanent diamond

no one is a snowflake
you’re all just raindrops
and you’re not even making
me wet

do i contradict your worldview?
very well then, i contradict it

what we have here is a (failure)
to communicate
but it’s only because my mirror
has darkened and cracked
on a different xy coordinate
than your own one dimensional glass

——

for
dVerse ~ Poets Pub
OpenLinkNight #190

manicured wastelands without roots (20170221)

from the latin
sub “below, near”
and urbs (genitive urbis) “city”

so then, one might say
something beneath a city
growing
fungus like
virulent and in the dark
but really
what else grows in shadows
and in shit

just so many mushroom capped
spore spreaders without
bearing the weight of skyscrapers
and the dreams that built them
stone on stone

the murder rate is lower
but the suicide rate is higher
in spite of the lack of tall buildings

——

for
dVerse ~ Poets Pub
Poetics – suburb poetry