.

The most concentrated and acute sage,
Channeling in from the heavenly bodies,
Caught you while you were sleeping,
Or studying forestry,
And said something not only too depressing for your brain to grasp,
But undirected at you in the first place,
So you should hardly be surprised when
Upon coming to your own truth,
You don’t
Matter at all.

There are many things that can make you fall in love, and love is bliss, but also apathy, just as these “many things” are just sunspots making love.

Into rooms I’ve sauntered, in a general state of disapproval and making no expression, and within these rooms that I’ve seen true ignorance. That bliss, those thoughts within a human gourd that come at 100 miles an hour, thoughts aimed at walls, bottles of solution, solar trajectories on August days.
What a mixup it was, and now, we have the pornographical. It’s an Alice in Chains live bootleg, it’s a Shadows Fall t shirt, it’s 63 zig-zag wrappers on the passenger floor of an invincible old Buick Lesabre. How do we know it’s invincible? Because we looked away, forever.

I

Will die
Someday,
.
And
Now, in this
Makeshift lodge,
As we
All
Encompass a
Makeshift lodge
Of our minds,
.
I see
Shrapnel
Deceased in
Forests of the akin.

And now instead of this hell

We’re wheels churning,
.
Legs working round on oarsmen’s apparati,
Lava nipping, splashing,
Leaving little scars.

They’ve

Got all this armor,
Again,
It’s armor
I’ve seen and it’s
Armor I see,
.
It’s armor
Goes
Into order
A
Pizza and it’s
Armor
At the cash
Register but I caught
A corner glimpse
Of the horse’s
Sweat written
Across
His eyes like
Nothing blank
And I
Couldn’t help but wonder
Was it you,
Was it you in there,
Dying.

She’s as sweet as seven moons

Covered in honey
And she never says “no”
To a richening of the mood,
Which forever is a change that takes us high above the nether scope,
.
Passing through all our miles of blue liquid,
She lets light fall on all of it,
And whatever dances in the day,
However we get our watermelons,
She’ll be there
To count the tolls.

We have to weave through each other

As half moons,

High octane –

.

The drips of thoughts now vapor,

An ergo heartbeat

Mining every way of

Our ego’s invention

This is miscellaneous day,

When it’s possible to be innocuous,

Kissing broad-lipped trees,

Sipping

On half a pint

Of an avenue

In wondering why I have an inferiority complex, and how to get rid of it, I find myself taking up space once again in my hardwood room, the furnace running, the epidermic vistas imbuing. We’re all hacksaws. Living with another person is like sharing phlegm. And who knows what goes on inside our bodies. And who knows why you’re different, you, sitting there, you just are, they saw it, they saw that look on your face at 2:32, at 11:41 you were fine, it was that look you had on your face at 2:32, the same face that would welcome stasis at the pizza parlor, you SAW stasis, life a crunching of a person in a car from the revenue cacophony to the tabernacle of druids and psychedelic reeling.

Teachers eat at Subway.

Sitting silent, but noticing everything, looking out the window, knowing exactly where to look, and where not to, waiting. Waiting for the nectar to secrete from the family ahead of me, and the mom gives me a smile, as I throw my tray away, and the sun wanes ever more slowly.
Teachers work in grocery stores, when they can’t be teachers, because those others, them, they don’t get it anyway. They’re the ones who will complain that teachers don’t get paid enough, and then build a hundred-billion dollar stadium, when we never even brought up the issue in the first place, we were too busy examining the underdog pertinacity in Gertrude Stein’s fiction, or researching the sociology of Frida Kahlo’s birthplace, in our dimly lit 450 sq. ft. apartment. Never in a million years would we work in an office, planning a vacation to Cancun, never in a million years would we live like them, distanced from the deformity of the crowds, cut-off, amputated from the trickling vibrations of the stomping masses. This is our world, this is the only place for us, the underdog, unique, but knowing that we’d better get some enjoyment out of grading papers or essays, or it’s surely gonna be a long day.