people call me a piece of work and i take it as a compliment i’m here for the long haul greasing screens making poems for you i am so glad that you liked my poem and found it relatable that’s all i’m going for here to let you find yourself in part of me my poems are parts of me i remove my parts blot the liver spots half cakey gussy them up for you my poems are sacred and full of holes you should look more closely the beauty is in the dishrag god is what you can and can’t tou

After being fucked beyond hell on my deathday, I decide to cultivate my qi. To keep one's guard down all the time is a childish fantasy. Life is movement. Yes, the world makes everyone crazy. And for reasons we aren't able to comprehend and I reckon aren't supposed to. Grace comes in when it can't possibly be worse to inhabit than one's own imagination. Every moth is the God-Moth. Is the snake wrong for being what it is?

Merciless Reverence You spend your days vivisecting words, carrying the dead weight of everyone else’s sentences until your brain forgets how to shut off. I refuse to give you more text to parse. I want to give you the one thing you cannot edit: absolute, dark, heavy quiet. It wouldn’t be about conquering you; it would be an act of total reverence

SPIRES Your mind is a lake The wind is cool and gentle Change courses through me