star (t)

star people .
star poison.
play strings of mental harmonies.
that ride yer soul up the windy river.
and beam downloads
like incredible energy.
i send my bat signal.
nightly.
so you can save me from,
these horrific humans.

and yet perhaps i am from here.
my tetra terra
my lover in chains.

were you the alien?
and perhaps there is pain behind those tiny eyes that seem so strange to me.
if i were a bodhisattva, i'd never leave this genetic ribbon alone, though my fingers swell with strain.

oh star people. please come visit me.
and show me how large my family could be.
and what sort of precautions i could take to not be devoured
by these residuallly believable android figures
which could be you or i
and both horrific in relation/inverse relation
in revelation.

i can agree. i can. compassion.

aside from the sliver of moonlight that bleeds from above.

there are tiny neon dots of freedom

from the thread gill

who breathes so heavily
in this dirt

star player. star seer. start here. end nowhere.
hole in one spin.

in a roving river

today I woke definitely shaky

my body is shaking and i feel emotionally shaky as if i could fall out of my body at any given moment.

spectacular nails bleed water

sometimes. hard black asphalt crying. sometimes raised roof tears. sometimes blood outta socket. sometimes tendons are shoe stringed. finger nails crawl and eyes stare long towards the sun. they sit like that for hours. and when the wind knocks you up, the ocean will sweep you into its waves. the sunshine shimmers spectacularly. one breath is enough. a bowl of past blood sweat and gold. magnified by the divine will inside your tied-in-two. a corn worshipping peoples. a feather worshipping saint. a long very long oh so long finger nail sigh. recovery from an addiction, of asphalt crawling. of backwards dream glow head. of inside outside eye cone. red green. red green blue. blue no yellow. fire. hide it.
hide it or she will get it. she/he/we will take it. metallic fire breath. only one is enough. sometimes. lungs hurt and heave to breathe naturally. when one grows up with no real life example of love. on the ass back-fault nails sink creep into skin rivers end.  one  can stare as long as is enough into the most natural thing on earth. the blaze of the wind hitting you upside that head. as it drags your body back into the sea/womb/corner pocket. if needles and spindles and rivers and white owl feathers and shadows and rabid dog whisperers and children and magical sunsets, radishes, and diamond tears were real things, these beautiful copper pennies would be so sticky in the sun. but as it is, these beautiful pennies are so sticky in the sun. dashboard mom. dials backwards sun. delivers backwords songs. fights for clarity nails it hard.
a sign asking for patiency. and pageantry. and regenerative blue-green-current.
gs up hos down.

balb blah blah life im stuck in the 90s

Dear Diary Lover Layer,

It wasn't that great of a birthday party but at least Brian was there. Brian and I also spent much of the following weekend together, but then i freaked out like a cat and Brian freaked out like a cat even though he tried to pretend that it was all okay and beautiful. Is Brian really so naive? Could it be true that Brian really doesn't understand that I don't want I mostly absent boyfriend? How sad Freyja's golden tears must have been.

It feels best to string aside Brian's love like another pearl.
It is a sort of uncommitted love, but I sort of understand that Brian may not be developed enough to have an adult relationship, whatever that means.

This is the 4th time I've had a mostly conscious love affair. I must say my heart beats in circles, because it feels so weird, but all relationships do. The idea that I could have  a normal causal not overly intense fair and balanced relationship seems possibly impossible?

I feel like my relationships are always lacking in continuity. I feel forever awkward. I might get more schoolwork done if I wasn't falling deeper in love with someone. But especially someone who I can't see all the time.

It really sucks. It really sucks. It sucks that I can't just meet up and chill, or go for a walk. And the time we have spent together is so condensed and like a flipped switch ON or OFF.

I think my head in high heaven would want me to end this. But Brian is so cute and lovable.

there is no where to burrow when you live above ground

there is no where to burrow when you live above dirt

watching someone burn

on television

versus

sending naked pictures of yourself to yourself from an alias

to pretend you're in love

versus

making tiny cups of coffee in your mind with an unused espresso maker

that sits in the corner

growing dust and whiskers

versus

smushing your lips up against the mirrors

in a bathing suit

after swimming

and your hair is all coarse from the bleach-water

versus

the light hitting all the angles of the most mundane objects

producing geometric shapes in shadows

versus

an ol' bust-up

bust

made of clay

with her lips sewn shut

with two sides of her sewn shut

in the best attempt to undo

backwards progress

disintegrated ideals

body & body

versus

tears that drip down the back of your throat

as numbing as cocaine

down through aching lungs

versus

joyful sunshine fingers
in the wind
out of a car window

versus

those fingers covering your eyes
making crosses
hiding from the light that is totally encapsulating your back

versus

lines of arms stomach squish
my breasts squish
thighs squish
and tighter
in warm embraces
solitary spaces

versus

only your hands
only these hands staring you in the face
only these lines
only these wrinkles

versus

and when you unwrap yourself
maybe this morning
will be met
with more than fleeting
shining strings of upturned chin and upturned eyes
and downturned squishy toes in the dirt
like dandelion
a quite resilient weed

it is okay.
these seeds germinate in the wind

i'm burrowing myself outta a hole. im burrowing myself ouuta a lock. im burrowing into the isdes of the walls of this dirt
and im sure glad my nails are short.
im so very glad oh my nails are short.
the dirt falls off ffrom under my nails.
the walls are shortening them.
the walls are opening up.
i am climbing out.
the heaviness of dirt.
the lightness of sky.

the sun lifts gravity.
the sun lifts my eyes from sleep.

the darkness was a nice dream.

now my dreams are rainbow sprite colored speckles.


goodbye


i feel the weight flicking off

it feels fine. im sorry loose lady.

yer skin falls.
scales drop.
we at peace in the heat,

evn though i cant think

i cant stand.

goodbye
blues
hello oranges
and maybe pink.

god disease
lets go


i love you so

eyes covers

reading and benediction player saver


in such efforts to be serene

serenity alludes me

in silent time growing holes of ooze

time affords me leisure

in affluent tongue teeth letters

mixed with wine

speak words
through the eye cover
lacey longer than before
grow yer nose chakra

and time lets you in

and there are days to offer creativity
a blood sacrifice to the sun.

tell me sweet layered lover.
in the desert we wear many rings.
a thimble on our thumbs
until sunset.

a foot step in the dark shadows of summer days
where the concrete covers the back alley
shade grown
webs of tailored truth.

okay okay okay.
alright alright alright.
i'll hold yer hand(s)

piece by piece meal.
pleasure by angled lever lover
dive into swimtime with
old timey bathing suits


watch the clock spins
drown in seawater
seasplatter

eye covers hang further down
covering other organs

uncovering crown blaze shine

looking down
to
hide this emblem of phoenix ash
on my forehead

and knowing the movement forward on this push-pin
is alone again
alone again
but sometimes tied to string and points
with colors diluting the image
whose boundaries are anyways already imaginary

eye covers blind fall down
naked
spin
shame is shone down the river
to die

a sparkled death of tones

singing hope songs
and merging rays of solitary string
with lit leaves
and back-lit clouds
and lens over hands over mouths of lens of truth
over eyes, covered yet again

a repetition of good enough fer the lickin

layersrainlayersblackvelvet

it is that i feel somewhat lost and

i care not


sailing smooth

onward

pushing through

uncertainty

jump into the unknown

leave your dreams behind...

she does not own you

you are in a mist

she does not need you

captain

tails

and swagger

she is alone without you

let her be alone

she is your mother

you do not owe her blood

if when you are here

you turn to glue
concrete
and fowl smelling ways
or
you turn into yourself
and diverge like bud
roses

but then
who cares

you are everywhere

she does not own you
she cannot disown you

if love has the wings
(for yourself)
then why not take the risk to be the sun's friend
no where is sunny all the time
and sometimes the best places are sunny almost none of the time

if you are lonely

go walk in the rain

turn around turn your head
look down
and cry
the rain and you will make love to the ground

and beauty will follow you for the rest of your days

deep time

this might be about that.

deep time
is underneath
when she takes her underwear off alone
with space

in between spaces, expanding space
between her and the nearest other
"deep time, how far or fast?"
wildly spin, is the iris of our eyeballs, a thousand eyelashes,
and the spider who spun the silk they're surely made of
of orchestrating cuneiform(s) of patterns
one by one placing then down
each pattern placed, eventually conjoined
makes cycles of pitterpatterning
all domination transient
what stays is passing
in this placement
one can star at their hands
and find a line... (the finer the line the finer the find)
now color deludes fades to gray / back again / lights come on
deep colored time patterning
distorted recorded reflections of recorded recordings
repetition
of that one time
when,
she laid down beside a dead fawn
she and jack found in the woods, away from the people
and opened her mouth against the dust, in agony, to perform the suffering
of its death-before realizing the deer was covered in maggots
spinning flesh slowly determined in small pieces
before dropping her shorts
and removing her underwear
before
burrowing into that dim tunnel
cavernous archaeology of
thrust
or touch
with tips of fingers, uncovering material history
light like fingers, the friction
telling distance orientation and spin
before
opening her eyes to each new
sun
and seeing real people pass by like an onslaught of never-ending waves of viruses
before, pointing to the place
"where it hurts mommy."
and almost falling down (but gracefully)
backwards in time (space) time
almost spending too long in the dirt
before
being ready
before
cloaking one's self
before
reaching for top shelf shit
climbing up / jumping down / grabbing corners kitchen cabinet skills
like a lynx

in deep time, deep rainbow'ed time
splits / fractures / splits off
that prismic jello
that
fractal hero/heroine

before, getting back up again
wiping the fine sand off her butt and looking below at the imprint of her silhouette
alone, with spaciousness of space compounded, between her and her
moment.
when she took off her underwear, for no reason but to bare it
not really alone, could see herself in her self(body / river /map / guide)
and all the playful mandalas
of her childhood
running outside to pee on the dirt
deep in deep time

This is No Creation Story.

This is about a point of OMitance. This is the conjunction of animals. This is the endless flux of ending but not quite really ending, and beginning but not quite really leaving the beginning and the non-cycles or vacillation.

The ones we witness in the dark when we are tired and wake up not to a new day, but the SAME day, in all it's pieces now. We wake up, we pick up the pieces, we put ourselves back together. We are eyes, legs, mouths,  knobby knees, shins, bone, flesh, pointy fingers. We are hair, nails, eyelashes, whiskers, gnarly tongues. We are teeth so sharp and bloody. We are the tips of the newly formed buds in Spring and the dirt floor reaches its tiny tendrils of moss up our toes. We are ground, sky, lifting, shaking, dying on the ground, prostrate in the sun .. kinda children.