5.4.17
BOOT(S)TRAPS

in traveling, a companion
in life, compassion
consider how compassion might feels about it
abandoned in any travels.

yesterday my feet still burn
stings in my legs
pain by some thighs
you’re expanding.
you’ve gotten,
bigger in life
perhaps too much – too light on your feet
no more.

6.3.17
BOOT(S)TRAPS
pretty spider populated
would call it
cramps or twitches
sighs of something too heavy to lift
waters where I can see my feet
and freeze my lungs
all in the same breath
this is beautiful
and necessary
maybe elemental

5.26.17
SUGARDADDY
regarding attention
too detailed to really be sown into some prism
you’ve decided to call it evil
by the beard on it’s snout
i’ve told you “yes” but only in the lightness of interpretation
fate, definition and discipline call it the law
i’m in-prisoned by a push for balance
shackled by guilt

ive sent a man to trial
for sequestering an idea of me
walled in by his thoughts
words that follow you home
crawl into your belly at night
dig out past nightmares
and leave you sighing with defeat
perhaps
if i could show you my shame-wounds
you would think twice
before you spit heavy desires
on my shirt.
this is not just about you.

5.23.17
FORTUNA

the gift of humanity
is the claim by the self
and our lives
become poems we were born to tell

we shed time the way your body sheds weight
of days behind our now
but can you grasp it?
now, i mean
before then and soon all become
muddled into systems of feelings drawn out
by the same creature
who trained whistles and rails on time.

until then, or now at least
we’ll be wrapped in sun kissed skins
and i’ll give you mine
just in case.

5.17.17
SUGARDADDY
your words are poison
there are things in these gardens that can kill you
sun rays are invisible
but tell me you don’t see green withering
dirt cracking
under your stare
don’t look at me that way

their is instinct amongst ourselves
to not be eating
not be preyed upon
by our own kind
but this is corporate – be or be eaten
and i will not be subservient to your hunger
when your belly’s full and my person
unwilling.
i’m sorry
but im not.

5.16.17
BOOT(S)TRAPS
there was a glimpse of poetry
you have not tasted before
lovers calling your mouth
ashtray
flicking them off with your teeth

.

this has nothing to do with the threat of strangers in the forest
i’m making sure you understand the moral of the story

forgive my salt
but i will skin hides
and dig my way out with my teeth
if i must.