spent seventeen years inside of your throat
i didn't know any better
moving in the direction of my pain
i plan to eat you alive
first slow & deliberate then full of desire

you crawl on yr belly thinking of yrself
i did a similar thing
upon on my forehead and when you convulse
we feel the shame creep in
YR SO PRETTY LIKE A PULSATING WOUND

the abstraction that i stabbed
makes me want to destroy myself
now i feel my inclinations waver
step into the micronarrative of

strange bifurcations in my patterns of thought
now i acquire yr language
all the sounds we make are a disconsolate dog
recalibrating the ego
i apologize for having teeth & breathing

carve out the face of my god upon the one that i wear
so i can stay off the streets
now i'm a series of floating convex mirrors
infected by people
when i fuck the moon i think the curse will be lifted

old dog

hallelujah i have pinned my shadow to the wall a stunning portrait
a shiny figure dancing in the corner of my room a trick of the light
it's the same thing you get failing marks then find the will to breathe again
my vital organs failed but hey my skeleton's intact at least i look alright
you put your hand in mine so i could feel your rotten flesh at least i felt your veins

you dip your feet in all dimensions
your syntax fluctuates 
the sun was golden on your shoulders 
major scaling such great heights
when you leave me in december
to build a house made out of leaves
i'll wear your sorrow like a necklace
so i'll know when i'm upside down

a question of authenticity and an inappropriate hand gesture

dark moon of logic descending 
i wrote yr name on my palms
i feel the ocean receding
i spit my nightmares out
sometimes i have thirst
sometimes it gets the best of my mood
it's just a passing bird that will pass too soon

i don't think i'll do it 
regulate my frame of mind
i still think in ruins
and i splinter at the touch of light
you can take my ashes
feel the atoms all align
but we're still burning crosses 
in the cold september night

pale sun of reason revealing
its on the tip of my tongue
i know the garden is weeping
i can't get any sleep

clever title

yesterday out of the swamp with my mistress
yesterday straining my neck just to kiss her
yesterday all of the skin on my shoulders came off
yesterday there with the flowers of reason
yesterday told me to wait a while longer
yesterday i didn't care anymore about time

theme from swamp

soft beneath the veil of perceptibility you hover around me and i feel yr autonomy bleed into topology sweet chimerical meandering

almost every evening i have tried to kiss yr shadow but torpid lamentations from the river seem to echo yr the cosmic queen of misdirection and i feel it in my veins

at the end of this miasmic fog there are neon lights that in probability spell the word silence perforating the doxa and you flood

the howling ghost of recalcitrance shivers in yr flesh and i am bound by natural law to hurtle toward death and surrender to the verisimilitude of our age

you & i have intertwined we'll blush ferociously as we hear particularities dissolve into each other beneath the purple firmament we gaze in multiple directions at once

let's decapitate the king of memory we don't even seem to need him anymore you're the solitary subject of my flagrant forgetting coupling with a curious longing for potential histories to unsettle my psychogeography upon the fabric of my anatomical structure of the self yr a dreadful persistent stain

writing from the stomach
documents of us outside ourselves
violence magnetized by the centre

my ideal world is measured in millimeters i have no problem
shattering articulations construct cartographies of laughter
but we must remember god who's been given eternity to invent time travel
but he is bored and infinitely anxious this wood is sacred but i don't care

chronic bouts of indecision
an endless escalator in the afterglow
we are surrounded by 40,000 serpents

Archive of Unfinished Projects