#powetry

I am fresh and clean. He presses me -- No, smooths me against a hard, polished surface and tells me of my novelty.

I am lily-white -- his arms enfold me, folding me.

The pieces of my body connect at the creases, but he drags me by the hand, and with all wear, they tear apart.

He calls me his little rice-paper doll, so I reach out-- fibers straining, but I cannot feel without my hands.

He asks me why I haven’t grown and when the tears slip, I watch myself dissolve, shrinking slowly.

I am translucent and awake. He says he never thought things would end up this way.

There is a new sheet on his table. There is a new crease on a new doll. There is a big difference between being loved and being known.

some emptiness makes

itself known

in a quiet corner of

my house

empty like space

like

vast swathes of the

universe.

I watch this emptiness

familiar since the end of time

musing what to create

what to grow

in its well-worn creases full

with grime.

some emptiness makes

itself known

yet again, in a central but

neglected patch

of my garden path,

hello, old friend!

yes, i thought

i could forget  but

with your wind chiming trees

come again to haunt me

have you not...

I watch this emptiness

filling it with water and wine

soaking it like a sponge

till there’s nothing but vacuum inside

roaming wild

from another to one dawn

places, people, and things

everywhere! this emptiness has me found.

and then

some more

emptiness remains...

inside the clock lies a screw

turning the lights in new spots

rotating like the tummy’s

slap to the face moments.

awake, drowning in NyQuil.

without that screw,

granddaddy has nothing and

the lies of time

will forever need their

fuck sakes the projects here, the curse of the verse,

get it done in a minute gotta go out, gotta go chao

gotta go south and exist, hunting the monsters

the belly of the beast, the worst of the kiss

the worst of the twist, monsters fuckin up this the least

expected things i could appease