Atop (#121)

Failure’s rooted for
The taken dilemma rests upon bold and earned shoulders
Unspoken inheritance
Painful to clarify
True risk grabs with inferno and wires
Does their struggle not count anymore?

Apparently not.

My wild head rips me away
I had certain cadence
A surplus of ironic decay
Do we have to hate ourselves at all?
Is boundless deflection a roadmap for living?
This ego must be slaughtered
A privilege, sure
Still, gratitude exists in certain ratios
For each struggle and inheritance

What a side project!

Origin point highlighted temporarily
What I’m trying to say is
Cheer for better things
Unfurl the jacket of whom you’d like to be
And wear it
Salient color
Electric, cosmic joy
Reduce the weight of failure
And float above the soil



Qualify (#119)

Let’s qualify tonight and sprint upon the icy floor
Of empty chambers, curved and clean, they twist
Wishing to accelerate an opportunity
Untangling riddles, burned ferociously into cavity

Let’s lift memory and lift others toward goals
Important fiascoes belong to no one
Suffer when schedules collapse into cosmic wrongs
Bleed when you’re ready to discover

Spittle (#117)

I have dry eyes to match my inner rust
Everyone’s sick of me and I’m sick of me
They shove slice after slice into my esophagus
I choke, I spittle
I come back for more
My lack of wins, a jacket I’m too uncool to wear
Shirking compliments
I become a chore to engage with
I complain and wallow
I seethe and spite

I lean all the way in
Towards contempt for my sorry state of affairs
A prophetic fucker I am
Slamming office chairs like it means something
Green veins in garbage time
Eat a box of bullets; grapple with
The weight you cannot lift

The Annual Bonfire (#116)

I have a yearly date with futility
Sandbagged by emotions and titles
Goin’ on a decade strong
Ego was frayed by year four
Void, ghost
Stomach cancer caused by epiphany
There is no lesson
There is no path
Chaotic flailing is all we have
Bleak, as the right brain trends
Do not apologize for leaning into shit
For wanting
For trying
Swallow your thousandth knife
Construct a billboard in February
Discover an oasis of resentful water
Stay dry

Cut Through The Good Good (#115)

Write way too fast and for every salvageable moment
Raise a glass to the current heft
Your best and your worst and your winter cough
Settle into a blanket for pasture
Shut the fuck up, we scream
Type blind
For fathers

For past loves
For cosmic marmalade
For trust in parking restrictions

For deep guilt over sandwich orders
For shifting hero worship
For romance, fucking brilliant
Clap back

Having it and losing it
Perversions within nobility
Harvesting a mentor during office hours
Creeping through his brain
I dial empathy to a repetitive degree
The loose show arrives
The cruise collides
Battle ready almost, a destructive opening to this weekend

Chaos collected calmly with the chaotic tent folk
Shit happens and we thrive
Tassles, boots
The best self for nobody
Thriving without accolades
Your mission statement
Your thesis

Your bullshit is spectacular
Your friends ignite
Your love is on board
Fly forward

Pretty frequently

Multi-pager, walls, lip tryouts
Inexperience, chords
Discarding deficit
Reorienting the universe, recalibrating, one more shot
Inferno from perspective
Comets rain down
We stir shit, we love it, we love
A plaza, imperfect weather

I’ll find it within new sound
Savage gulp; animated
Altogether much
I’m blasted with high notes
And grabbed by temptation to rekindle the band
Stalking my shadow
Seeing ourselves in foreign melodies, we bounce
On our own

Bestowed upon a trial
Levity and a sunset
Without damage/crash
Beyond scope
You’re not here and
Altogether, too bright a backdrop
We fall in love
Over and over again


Idiot Bones (#114)

Required strife flurries into my view this morning
So I hunt relief game, feasting on their struggles
I nourish contempt, letting my shitty attitude bob up and down
To get washed out is to be afraid
A slightly less comfortable zone terrifies a creature of habit
Walls made of cactus needles
With enough tepid strikeouts
My scrappy itch reignites
To lift my idiot bones again feels human
I know I’m lucky
Doesn’t mean I should cash out
Not when I can be uncomfortable again
Symbols are tone deaf
Everything is familiar
Create more mystery and fling my idiot bones into the sun