poems

• The Worst

  The worst

  part

  of

  me

  stood up

  in the middle

  of the last

  episode

  of

  human being,

  in front of everyone,

  and started to explain.

  The geckos

  were

  against

  the wall

  as well

  with all

  their accumulated

  acumen for small

  movement.

  It

  didn’t

  matter to

  the epicures

  of awkward,

  who relished

  their front

  row

  meat.

• Out of Patrol

  I saw a guy

  named Socrates

  who wasn’t dead

  from one more squeeze

  of alibi.

• The Fast or the Furious

  Make me believe

  in paradigms

  lost; or Hester

  Prynne me aloof

  in fealty soft.

• I Don’t Know You

  I don’t know you from the fog

  that wombs and entombs your life;

  but I’d recognize your voice

  in the vanishing.

• Missing Letters to a Young Poet

  
  The old words are still

  waiting for the prfection

  of your clue

  
  to fairer, whether

  or not it’s absolutely

  tru to the bare

  of

  the

  unspoken.

• After Indie

  
  Even the broken

  tree is prfict for the wild

  one climbing

  
  civilization

  not to level with the sun,

  but to feel squend

  light

  through

  the branches.

• Praise

  Forget the starriness

  of your stone

  and sink

  to

  the

  singing

  of your real

  where no one

  notices, unless they

  feel.

  Dark conversations

  nervous

  the room

  of its pure

  for no reason.

  So

  why

  stay

  in the running

  for an aggrandizement

  of the inevitable

  last

  thing

  in the world

  you can’t stop

  saying you want?

• Broken

  Filmography

  of sleeplessness

  interrupted

  by dreaming this

  untitled sea.

• All the Heaven

  All the heaven

  inside of me

  is a question

  of hidingly

  pink endeavor.

• Ghost Ribbon

  This is an adult poem

  for all the spiders I’ve failed

  to appreciate in time,

  who ink my fingers.