New poem

I’m writing buttloads of poetry, most of it unconscionable, or at least unprintable.


This one, however is (mostly) printable, so enjoy!

You can talk all you want,
exert your fine mind in towering feats of
mental masturbation or blather on about
tv shows I’ve never even heard of.

I won’t stop you, nor shame you,
nor yield myself to this
creeping, comfy paralysis
that dulls the edges
and blurs the faces.

I will eat my sandwich while
Oprah reveals the lecherous secrets of cheating
husbands. Savoring the tomatoes,
turkey, spinach and bread
down to the last delicious lick
of aoili.

And then,
I’ll simply fold myself inward
on lines of pure intention;
dive through this meek carpet,
melt into the floorboards,
extend pellucid filaments
through concrete and rebar.

Slide my tasty venules under it all.
pulsing, undulating with the rhythm
of earth, of mud, of the rocks
under us all.

Here, the connection is
undeniable, life and death
happen in such quick succession
there is no denying
the fluidity of all things.

Here, my hands become trees,
my toes earthworms,
and my words
are a stream.

Feel the soft moss of me.
Touch the sparkling invitation,
let the cool water soothe
your hot, tired feet.
Fill your hands with me,
bring me up to wet your lips
and bathe your face.

Know the warm earth,
the strong, tough limbs
that can climb with you,
hold you when you fall,
or wrestle for understanding
in the maelstrom of arrogance
and delusion.

I stand before you abruptly,
utterly human.
Hungry again, humbled,
ready to run or fight
or fuck.

The choice is yours.

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