Background photo by Dana Schagunn

View The Whirlwind at Supraterranean

You are envious of the old objects
that explain to you the wear
on their tear
is just same as your tattered
memoirs soaking
up bong water in sweatshops
it
is
a
visual explanation of the wonder.
Your own connect the dots projection against
inflating mirror.
Reflected
are once pined for
need still
truth open to discussion.

When you started to believe that everything
in this space was placed in their
place so you could mark
mapped up territory.
Glorious abstraction
had to be
made into a senseless scuttle
bug proving structure with the air it left
behind before
it strayed from looking.

Now you howl
there
dying in place from
overworking is
a mad
mad way out
to blink once finished universes
time before.

View Through thorough boredom awaits Mica, deity of boil at Supraterranean

Daughter of Bedlam
You roam the market bleeding
Your sweet and sticky blood drops
Fertilize the dawn and bone dry pastures

Our eyes tease wonders from your ashes
The flesh you solicit provokes our doom
Your hair untied sends comets flying
But we still take refuge in your tomb

Sister Bedlam, Disorder’s daughter
You show up late for every slaughter
Your graveyard dancing brings life to order
Drowning forest fires in torrential waters

Mother Bedlam, the dreamlord’s bad gene
You taint the half light with the dread of night
Your tireless fingers jam fatal triggers
And draw out voices from brain-dead singers

Your widow’s wisdom resides in hearts made cheaper
In the germ fed brains of wall street bankers
You tour the vaults and drive the galleys
Homeless vagrants wear your face in city alleys

Bedlam brought forth by cemetery prowlers
No one doubts your impenitent will
It is not our right to rule your weather
We peak only to wither with every thrill

Bedlam driven to boredom by hope and freedom
Someone calls out to your waiting shadow
He whispers his cold winter song of exaltation
And you arise like a black sun, a shiny new catastrophe
For the wandering hordes of exiled nations

View Bedlam at Supraterranean

It disgusts me that people ask you for help
That they think you may have the answers
That you could somehow help them

But you’d sit there and watch them die
Probably Without shedding a single tear
Since you’d be so content in the comfort
of knowing it’s them and not you

I don’t need to wish harm upon you though
Because human suffering is inevitable
I do wish that when your time comes
You can truly understand what it is to be alone

You need to understand what it is to feel vulnerable
To know that you can’t save yourself
To know that you can’t sacrifice someone else
Just like you used to make things right

No, instead you’ll need to be saved
Some human being on their own free will
Will need to decide to pull you out
Somehow your life is of some value

You wouldn’t do that though
So I’d take comfort in knowing
You could have been rescued
But you weren’t worth it

View You Disgust Me at Supraterranean

she straddled my body
i was pinned but didn’t struggle
her shirt slid off
and then the bra too

blessed with the breasts of a goddess
she reminded me that my heart still works
i struggled to memorize every curve of her body
grasping at her with a starving urgency

i didn’t want to forget a single moment
she likes to kiss with her eyes closed
i would try to watch her serene face
but it was too dark and i was too close
too in love to focus

eventually it ended
and we laid as close as two people can
she had really done it
she had made me feel again

i watched intently as she struggled
to clasp her bra in darkness, trembling
after that, aside from finding it
the shirt went on much easier

she stood and stated the obvious
that the night had turned to morning
she said she had to go
that she had to be home hours ago

she stood a sihoulette of perfection
and i asked her if i could see her the next day
it was possible
but her schedule made it unlikely

i walked her to the door
i walked her to the car
i kissed her goodbye
i melted

the next day she was the first thing i thought of
and while she said she didn’t have time for me
she did, however, have time for her boyfriend
i quickly remembered what it was like to feel

View At Least We Know It Still Works at Supraterranean

I asked her if me kissing her was a mistake. In short, she said probably. The long version of it is what I’ve heard a hundred times; more or less, she spouted some generic words about just getting out of a long relationship and not wanting to be involved.

These are the kind of words that once would have shattered my existence, but I’m harder now, or so I’d like to think.

I told her it was OK, that I didn’t need to be with her. I’ve heard the “just friends” speech too many times to accept that as a response, so I elaborated my position: I am not looking for a relationship either, but I like her too much to simply talk about current events and the weather.

At this point we had a few more exchanges, but nothing of substance. I tried to reiterate, without saying it of course, that I know what I want.

In what might be considered progress by some people’s standards, she told me she doesn’t know what she wants.

She needs time.

Time.

I’ve been told that time mends anything, but there’s nothing broken here. In this context, beyond her, speaking on behalf of the entire female gender, time is an excuse. Time is an opportunity to grow apart. Time is a massive illusion designed to make people forget. Time is what destroys hearts and makes them hard, it’s what tells you things will be OK. Eventually.

So here I stand, with some pseudo-resolution. I have been sold artificial closure, but what more can I ask for? She will never understand me, and I will never understand her. It is what it is. It is the one constant in my life.

It is disappointment.

View I Talked to Her at Supraterranean

we talked and laughed
mostly about nothing, but a little about everything
the words didn’t matter, only the voices
as per usual, this was more or less the same

the movie played in the background
for all we knew it didn’t exist
until the scene you couldn’t miss arrived
it was always a man, woman, and love

the time had again eluded us
and in our brief lapses into singular reality
we would wonder if the world really did stand still
as the clock never stopped moving

but then i kissed her on the cheek
and eight years of monotony vanished

she made a sound that echoed awe
then broke formation and rolled toward me
her eyes slid closed, i leaned in
and her lips tasted so ordinary

View The Most Ordinary First Kiss at Supraterranean

I offer to buy her next one, she reluctantly accepts
The bartender brings us two Jack Daniels and ice
She sips hers as I stir mine for a minute
Her face tells me she’s not much of a whiskey drinker

We go through number three, four, five
Neither of us really sure what we are talking about
Partly from the booze, but mostly from circumstance
There is absolutely nothing we have in common

At number six I ask to cash out my tab
And this is what men generally call the ‘moment of truth’
She was six deep and a hundred pounds lighter
The poor girl is having trouble with her cigarette

I pull it out of her mouth and light it myself
Take my one drag then jam it back between her lips
She tells me something along the lines of she likes me
Then she tells me all of the things I could do to her

I start to imagine what she looks like in just her panties
She’s imagining me looking at her in just panties
We share a cab and start making out in the back seat
At the next red light she hops out and slams the door

I never see her again, but I do tip the cabbie well

View A Show of Gratitude at Supraterranean

(sxc.hu)

Once more I find myself starring into the Jamaican horizon
Cotton candy blue and pink I fix my eyes on
I imagine heaven must look a bit like this
As if god visited the Caribbean for a day, and blessed it with a kiss
Certain my soul will remain young, so long each year I don’t miss
The place where rainbows form a halo above the sun
Where Red Stripe flows like water, and the rum never seizes to run
Upon my return to this treasured land, it is both new and familiar faces that make it grand
Rocks upon the breaking waves
Love of something better, love of something bigger under the sun’s rays
Like children of Eden, we swim, we dance, we play
In such moments it is so prevalent why Mr. Marley would ever say:

“Don’t worry, about a thing, ‘cause every little thing, is going be alright”

I look around at an impoverished nation
Yet there is no notion of suffering
Only peace, love, and happiness
It is for these reasons I will always return to this place
The heart of Jamaica is found on every citizen’s face
Warm eyes, brimming smiles
An ecstasy most have not tasted in a while
The meaning of life is the meaning of happiness
It most certainly runs wild in the Rasta’ way
It is not sold at Wal-Mart; there is no dollar amount of which you can pay
From toes to finger to tips
Eyelashes to smiling lips
Electricity fuels a passionate people
Like three little birds, to be wed in a steeple
They sing, they dance, they love, and romance
I am a better man because of this place
Even despite my wasted wicked ways
I leave refreshed, reminded of my best, and the man I wish to be
Because that man is me, it sometimes just takes a change of perspective to see
This life is the life I wish to lead
And those I share it with I most definitely need
Places without people are like love without loss
I hold you all close, for now and for always
From the rocks I stare heaven in the eyes
She smiles, and gives me a wink
Like a treasure destined to sink
No man alone could bare such beauty
It belongs to the Earth, stars, and sea
I love you Jamaica, you’ve always been good to me.

View Jamaican Fixation at Supraterranean

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