The Garden.

"Son, I've had a flower or two
in my day, and let me tell you. It's not
all about Fragrence & Beauty; there are
a few things all flowers need:
warm climate & fresh air are quite beneficial,
ample lighting & clean water essential,
but what really does the trick is rich soil."
Now salt is a natural mineral,
and fire -- a good source of heat but also
light. Everyone knows organisms "run on"
caffeineandelectrolytes. And I think I read once
that chlorophyll converts smog into oxygen.
All things considered, I think I'm pretty
set (on dreaming the rest of my life of a flower
its obsessive scents & the way its silken
pedals feel between my callused fingers
as I pluck them from its crown).

[If as humans we do love,]

If as humans we do love,
then as we love, we most certainly worry
(what is eddie thinking what is isabel doing).
And what good is worrying if it is not rooted
in some sort of fear?
Fear inevitably leads to doubt.
and Doubt is the sole friend of sep
eration (who is more than kissing cousins
with isolation) of which their
condemned child is Suffering.
Suffering grows up only to become Pain (even
though when he was a little child, he dreamt
of being Hope), and Pain's masterpiece is his
crystalis, formed from his own blood. One day
(when he emerges), it will be as Death and he
will flutter away on his Monetesque wings.
andatleastwearestillhuman.

[I fell in love with Oblivia.]

I fell in love with Oblivia.
She didn't get it, and so she never
really appreciated it - all the little things
I'd do for her write
her words hum her tunes(.) so
nothing ever happens how I think they
should happen is God letting me rescue
dearsweetprecious from a herd of
elephants she neither sees nor hears and
she should have ended(.) things would
be better if she ended but then we
wouldn't have her discreet smile songs
sung when no one is
around look in her eyes that takes
my breaths and turns them into
little hills in the country side that
make me excited to love her as I
did the first time that I saw her
nude for everything that she is(.)

Frostbite.

My love no longer comes around
in dreams ebb more than they flow
and today, hurdles are bigger than they
built them back then. I climbed
Mt. ever rest once, all-day. Everyday.
I'm so low i can't do it. It starts raining
pornography running off overflowing
graves washing up dead man's bones.
Where blinking lights are speeding
backwards, silence sticks out
like a sore thumb. This is where
our souls don't fly; our minds
eaten like sardines in a crushed tin box.
Our hearts don't pound.
My eyes opened and I am blissfully alone.
My love no longer comes around,
and I eagerly prick my fingers with needles waiting to feel.