i’ve seen you die in bed-sheets
strangled by the beast of apathy
yours is soft as your pi
lgramage to turn a blind eye
and look self reflection deep in the face of
not too deep.
perhaps rationality will suffice
too soothe and lull it back

still – there’s depth to the curves of your
intentions are clouded by pressures
i will have whats left over, and make it
yours too.


dawns in strange places
moringa leaves
and brazilian nuts
everything’s from africa.
good morning kisses and midnight cuddles make me curl away
when did arms become cages?
i miss everything i shouldn’t
we’re just a symptom of something sadder.

you’re still a child
wanting to pet the wolf
“because you can”
tell me,
does the coat feel different from your carpet, rug, next-door mutt?
i bet you would
want to iron nature’s rug once it’s been tamed
the damage has already been done.


im going through portals
they remind me to dig your nails between the cracks
pull back the kind of the ordinary
pushing out of comfort

i hear blubber in your belly
the type of person
who needs tissues up their ass

you’re full of shit

too much too empty once.
snoring, lazy , coward.
foolish coyote proving bravery by picking
at the smallest bug

in case you weren’t aware;

disrespecting fire
doesn’t make you graceful
walking blindly into a forest
doesn’t make you brave
pulling blindly at the snake’s tail
make you childish, entitled, and a casualty
in Darwinism
behaving like nature is something to own
there is nothing feral about you
there’s nothing about you that is wild.
your pamper paper butt moons shamefully
as you rummage through your back of useless
find me that fire starting kit
tell me how to start a fire “the real way”
then tell me that lightning excites you
as we drive down the hill
watching bodies of dead trees crumble.

there’s too much past
to be present
the leech in murky waters
the witches in the light
the wolf with its new fawn
and an old fox
too fat in it’s face to by sly anymore
this is what it felt like to be tall
when your shoulders were heavy.
these feelings are mine
everyone else is simply a casualty
no longer baring teeth at strangers
this is something else

i want an instance of
knock the air from my lungs
a bully too normality too long.
chancing this as a symptom of discipline
who determines that anyway?
when has popular opinion ever give me a choice
to decide normality.
i was handed a stack of dead wood to build a house
and told to look at nature.