they put their hands on me and prayed in soothing murmurs.
it made me uncomfortable.
the softness of women usually does.
and people were walking around being kind
to eachother and that
sometimes makes me uncomfortable too.
I reminded myself never to be dragged to the front
again.
I don't much like wasting other people's time because I
don't like when people waste mine.
there were general condolences
and then He walked into the
small space. Filled the shadow
between her full lips and stepped
out into the light.
Unshaven, he took my face in His
large hands
and looked me in the eye.
She, with full lips,
had eyebrows scrunched
and was saying I don't know
why, but He's saying...
She didn't know He was holding my face.
But I bet her lips were tingling.
The softness of women faded into
velvet cushioned pews
and the walls fell away.
There were gentle murmurs
but now it was me
and Him
set on the highest rooftop
breathing steam
and covered in night.
The kind of clean air
that goes down
like menthol and He put His hands in my hair.
Drew me to Him and told me I could trust Him.
He covered my mouth with His and entered
the dark space in my parted lips.
I felt him in the lowest part
of my belly.
Fire poured over me
thick like molasses
and my lips were tingling
when the walls returned.

Words to live by

You can't gain weight if you drink on an empty stomach.

Drunk as Drunk, Pablo Neruda

Read this and died. It's Pablo Neruda.

Translated from the Spanish by Christopher Logue

Drunk as drunk on turpentine
From your open kisses,
Your wet body wedged
Between my wet body and the strake
Of our boat that is made of flowers,
Feasted, we guide it - our fingers
Like tallows adorned with yellow metal -
Over the sky's hot rim,
The day's last breath in our sails.

Pinned by the sun between solstice
And equinox, drowsy and tangled together
We drifted for months and woke
With the bitter taste of land on our lips,
Eyelids all sticky, and we longed for lime
And the sound of a rope
Lowering a bucket down its well. Then,
We came by night to the Fortunate Isles,
And lay like fish
Under the net of our kisses.

Wait

I want the weight of tomorrow.

It's one of those nights
when the fire is cold and still
waiting for rocks
and stirrings
but I'm not feeling up to it

it becomes a necessity after a while.
tell yourself that you must write every day
the way you brush your teeth everyday
even if all you have is shit.
cringe when your writing is shit
but don't stop writing.
learn how to open locks
with the keys under your fingers.
every door leads to somewhere new
and after all this time
you still have an endless amount
of unexplored rooms
caverns
closets.
I don't think that my writing has improved
much over time.
but it gets easier and easier to write.
easier to admit when
my writing is shit.
I would stop but
am addicted to the opium
that seeps out from under
some of the doors.
one door led to the sky
and after falling through
forever, I knew I'd have to write
everyday
until i could get into a
room like that again.
so far I haven't found it.
but I have found doors that lead to
nowhere
and closets filled with
priceless old trinkets and treasure chests.
I've walked into shitty apartments
with naked women packing coke
and onto beaches where there was no one
but me
white sand,
blue ocean.
These keys unlock time and space
and there is plenty unknowable
but nothing
unsearchable.
Write everyday. And take me to places
worth going.
There is no reason not to.
and I am waiting.

Buzz.

woke up wide eyed smiling sideways
stretched four years old again
gotta run gotta play
what's next
static hair and toothpaste smile
soon
soon
there are cardboard castles
and convenient street corners
where magic happens
over
over
it can't grow old
we'll all grow old
but if we are lucky
our eyes will stay shining
and we'll wake up wide eyed
and smiling sideways
until we are swallowed up.