hiding behind a door

there is no fear leaping into the vast, endless open spaces.
As if memories, exit and enter again, fade out under the burned spotlight. A fizzle, a dash of brown, the smell of decaying fire.

you offer up your body, but still remain attached to it. Where is your nature? They burn their incense torches/flashlights, and wave them insect-like at the running purple clouds above. remember el ni�o, remember the summer.

no one will recall the trees, when they've heard their names called from through them. She wore blue that day, or was that her eyes? I recall my suit. gray.

You've got troubles. I've got messages. Don't account for much. A lions roar, is a proclamation of self-sufficient.

picture this, if you will. A white desk. covered in scratches and ink. Tape on the edges. Windows on one end, lined in a row like a rifleman's execution party. Summer, I think? monsoon rains flooded our bases.

Green.
everything was green. The trees hunched over, covered themselves with their leaves. Like someone afraid of water. calling my name. I was only a teenager. the monsoon rains came for 5 minutes, and washed my city streets clean.

just leap into it. that splash. that path. that goal. that path. that goal. that path. that goal. what's the difference? they're both the same.

see us transcend each other.see nothing. you can come, you can go. my exhalation leaves particles in the air, one day you'll absorb them again. even after we're long invisible and obscured from each other, from ourselves. gone are the times of romance and smiles. gone are the moments of moments, left to bathe listlessly in the luke-warm water, of your pseudo-french white bathtub.

if you remember that one time there was, maybe you'll resurrect our dirty footprints under inner city park trees. that feburary chill, did we really think something could blossom from a season of hibernation and death?

sleepless together, i stayed up all night.
regress

if this were a book, would you burn it? child rhymes, giggles. go through the door, find it's not locked anymore. An empty room, filled with every sound you ever made. how long could you sit alone with yourself? docks and cargo pants, slippery moon, your hands are too wrinkled to reach out for anything anymore. give it up, you never had a good shot anyway. She was just there for that moment. long gone, long gone.

I hurt myself trying to climb over it. Happy bliss. it came in a sudden way. trashtrucks and japanese alleyways, I lost my way. dayglo and silly putty. capture the city, reclaim your land.

pottery

ghosts

frantic

yourself

growl

thermos

drawers

blanket

needless

overcome

babylon

once there were walls of jericho.

boxes cut down through empty rows of nucleus riverfalls. a child throwing a temper-tantrum. he smashes it apart. sickly, brutal, malicious, worrisome, aware. there were dragonflies around the creek, and crayfish that snapped at your fingertips when you reached for them. collected in a bucket. The swings by a chicken coop.

running through a forest, scared for no particular reason other then being left alone out there. see the bridge, see the safety. Puke the adrenaline out. You were so scared. lept over fallen trees.

fast forward to 1998. out on your own. rewind a moment, no, nothing there worth remembering.

four thousand water drops told me I was wrong. The floor was unclean. whiskey on the window sill. I tried the best I could, but somehow, time continued on.

when you're dropped to the rock bottom, you want to crawl back to the light above. after a year of being stuck, I relinquished myself to the bottom. sudden enlightenment, laughter all day long. booster stage one, long past, years ago. 1996?

we're confident it can't happen to us. until it does.

tiny words scribbled out onto paper. read them by the light that dispells the darkness. our reflection vanishes in mirrors that reflect us that vanishes into mirrors that reflect us.

there's more then one way to get lost. more then one meaning.

a knock at the door tells me someone's there. come in. but no action. nobody there, was it just a fantasy? stabbed in the stomach. these are just words now.

gave up on idle talk long ago. receptive, people sometimes, appear. their hearts could care less. endless chatter is white noise. I'm a quiet man, I like my silence. I'm a good man, I like my silence. deterioration of the castle of, you got it.

I'd rather eat devils, then someone elses morals. liberal fascism, conservative expansionism. I believe in the post-post-post-post modernism. reactionary revolution to the reactionary. Like 2 people turning into each other suddenly, and reeling back in shock, which sends 4 people reeling away from them, and 6 away from them, and 12 away from them, and 24 away from them, and 48 away from them, until the earth reels away from the sun, until the galaxies reel away from space, until space-time reels away from God, to which God replies in his booming voice;

"What the fuck was that?"

I'll never be ashamed again. ghost parties with missing drivers outside. walk through the door, into a crowd of people you don't know. wish it wasn't happening. wish you stayed home. wish you were hiding, invisible, left alone for a moment. left alone for the rest of your life. Retreat to a corner, or back outside. it's the way you experience yourself.

maybe you'll say that again. maybe you'll fall twice more, or nine times makes perfect. just a second ago, you will be taking a step backwards. your back against the wall to wall carpeting.

time to go home.

no regrets ever in this life or the next.

devils part your lips. go.