Workmens Composition

A cascade of twine hangs from the ceiling Dotted like the starry night Multicolored wings attached on end A cornucopia of flightless ornaments Yet her eyes flutter And a smile breaks In the air-conditioned room We escape the botanical heat Pitstop metamorphosis

Our hands trace familiar patterns Silently speaking, fingers interlace Interspersed breaths and darting eyes Warmth emanates A chemical pull A primal notion For we fall into favor 

We celebrity

Stones washed by the cold water

Enveloped through time

Smoothed patiently by the sands

Washed of their expectations

Mezcal Moon

Dec 6th, 2018

Are you painting? Syrup serenades this canvas.

Can we color correct?

Another night.

Chilling sour and sweet,

Bourbon splashes shake up spirits.

Up on a ledge truest Americana.

Pointing at the windows across the boulevard.

Shattered temple, French fries

Every question in her eyes

Rare to see an answer flee

As walls surround what may be

They say money can't buy happiness

But it's just not true

As if the your sky was my blue...

Perspective is a dangerous rise

And I pity leaving behind those eyes

Hazel swirls the coffee bean

Into an oatmeal prophecy

Soy searching at this cornerstone

A brunette babe

Matter made

A chance to chase and check the core

Battered, patterned terminal carpets

Shallow walls echo scratches of escalators

There's a moment in light

Planes icing in the snow of northern nuance

I'm pitted against the stress of December

A sagittarius, I'm telling you

With a new year and old wounds

The levity of this siren

Her scarlet floral dress swings below this incandescence

My throat wraps in ethyl

Soon to be the architect of my endless nightmare

It happens as the smoke floats in retrograde

From these lungs, my shallow grave

I’ve lost my days

Chasing the firefly

Damp sheets from sweaty tears

My body weeps

Temperatures rising

The comforter is a misnomer

I’m tangled up in my mind

She puts her hand around him

Throws the ping-pong ball

I watch it all fall

This new year

Same old fear

That young teacher

Godly soul

Bubbles

Whole

Weigh anchor and hold me still All this ill and overdrawn will Substandard latency within this swell Brother keep me in check.

Waves against the mast Gale pushing me past Lost from how I dwell All hands on deck.