BOOT(s)TRAPS – a consolation
12.31.17
now more than ever
i feel the parchment paper tounge
of established comfort-ability.
i’ve made of myself the impossible
the golden minus reaching heights
discovering mountains
conquering lands
turning off calendars with whispers of success
leaping

shaking the year off the leg
not like a bad memory
a stubborn child
a painful sore
moreĀ  a dull ache
feeling heavy in the bones
calling for something it doesn’t even know
where it began
or how even
it will end

from bare feet
soles to the dessert spines
i cracked its back into regimen
disciplinary callousness
now laced up
boot-straps true to form
polished click clacking echoing on cement halls
they hear me coming
but i can no longer feel the ground

 

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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

5.16.17
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.

5.9.17
FORTUNA
there be fire alarms blazing
flies and fumes drowning the young
you’re useless
asleep in the willows
dreaming with sirens
they scream at the youth
to wake up
get up
move
over you’re
useless.
a friendly inhibition of memory
something that may not be so cruel, so crass
but twice is enough
to shake any cow from it’s leather.
we’re hoping for branches
aching for mistakes
sweating liquor and snoring inebriation
i sleep with monsters.

5.7.17
BOOT(S)TRAPS
sweet things aren’t just sweet things
another one is, yes, one more
little morning affections keep me
awake at night
and my legs hurt
deeply
someone, after this much walking
will want to whisper something sweet too.