sun chases moon 
at least that’s what i’d assume
there’s boulders, stones and seashells that will tell you of a time
before they were split in two
before the skies ate the oceans blues

(well i haven’t eaten a thing since you - i cannot stomach the room)  

pusher-man won’t you push me something useful
something easy on the heart but heavy so the eyes droop

there’s an old man from Cuba that can put himself into a coma
the note read: “wake me up when the war on love is over”
they say he stirs whenever one leaves another

I’ve been preaching into telephones nobody’s on the end of
baptized each night under hours of showers until it stops running hot 

the vacancy-light is the dullest of all
but i keep it switched on because i can’t see her.  

3 hours ago  /  12 notes

I am here now
where you once were
head-in-hands
& peeking through the cracks in my fingers 
for your ghost, sipping mulled fog from an ethereal glass
or whispering the hairs on the back of my neck up  

I lie backwards
& the room-lights become your eyes 
the decor becomes your smile

Tightening my fingers blue
around the sheets because they are your waist 
and letting my head fall back hard into the pillows because they are your lips

Thinking now

Thinking how the arch of your back was a bridge for my madness 
& I was sure to cross 
How I’d drink-up your milky whiteness like whiskey
‘till I floored  

I know it’s only been a day 
I’m mostly frightened of the thousand more. 
 

1 day ago  /  28 notes

some people see the world in abstract or self-portrait 
i look at the world in landscape 
you know 
big open spaces 
not too much in it.
right now i’d like to mention
that i’m changing my thinking
but mostly just like a melbourne season.  
these people avoid me like a
hearse on a sunday-morning road.  
baby i’m a plague
breathe me in and i’ll sicken your soul.
treating all these cavities like they’re hospital wards.
i look at getting better like getting worse backwards.
like wet carpets i’ll linger, in the wake of these floods 
you know the ones 
the ones that pour from her eyes.
you know I’ll rise
like bread in the bakery oven, temperature high
i need to cool-down
but not in the general sense, more like a gun
so i can keep firing.  

4 days ago  /  14 notes

The refrigerator light blinking like a strobe.

I’ve lost all of my best friends, 
to all those wars up in my brain.
And all of my voices, 
play like broken records.  
That humming you’re hearing, 
is just air through my organs.  
I’m figuring quickly my jaw is simply arthritic, 
the noise that i’m spilling- just a creak in the attic.
That movement in me, you think that you’re seeing, 
is just all-backwards, just me splitting.
You know that girl that I’m kissing,
yeah shes keeping me beating.   
My heart I am meaning,
i know my footwork is lacking.
So i keep the refrigerator light blinking like a strobe,
while the twelves turn to fours.
While the “may I”s become moans,
as the teeth tear at throats.”
Today’s clothes torn,
are tomorrow returned to their stores.
It’s quite lucky,the return policies on those dockets, 
are so flawed. 
 

4 days ago  /  26 notes