SAILOR SHOES

i had this dream that i walked out into the ocean
arms at my side at night i just kept going
there on the shore you stood watch
arm stretched out before you you sang to me
but i was entranced, lost to the rhythms of the sea
i stepped out further, cold water at my ankles
i stepped out further, cold water at my knees
and the whole time you sang to me arm stretched out
i did not see, i did not hear the song you sang
i just walked further and further into the tide
i stepped out further, cold water at my hips
eyes glazed over with the mist of salt
i did not know where i walked to
i did not know if i would ever look back
i just continued to walk out into the ocean
the wind blowing on my face and the
sun pressed down upon my bare shoulders
i seeked the black mystery of leagues deep
i seeked to be a dark submarine traipsing
through fog and algae and in the distance
the demon eyes shining in the rocky caves
i stepped out further, cold water at my back
cold water at my shoulders up to my neck
and just then. the moment before the ocean
sucked me in to the unanswerable question
i heard your sweet songs skipping on the waves
and it hit my ears with hallelujah and amen
sweet siren singing me away from shipwreck
i turned around cold water off my shoulders
off my hips my knees my ankles and the sun
of your love i remembered i remembered
once and for an eternity i will recall
that the mystery is there within you
in each breath in and out like the crash of waves
the deep caverns of your love
your ocean fifty million leagues deep
i placed my hand on the soft of your outstretched arm
and i dived deep into your song for this sailor
this lonesome wanderer lost in the maybe
but forever found in the constant rhythms of your moon
and the sea in my soul that sways to its sound

COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2015

THE HOO RAH MAYOR OF SELFIE TOWN

congratufuckinlations, sir
you are the hoo rah mayor of selfie town
you have become so damn good
at taking the spotlight
and cramming it up
your own asshole
you are your own personalized
votive candle
complete with holy sticker of yerself
plastered on the side

your wick is burning

no one gives a shit

and when the long day is done
when you retire from the soured limelight
to your king-sized bed
you snuggle up nice and tight
beside yourself
big spoon little spoon
you coddle with the one you
love most dearly
and when the lights turn out
you continue
your vicious ritual
of stroking your own
ego

masturbational
congregational
congregation of one
you are your own moon
you are your own sun
but there is not
a single star in your sky
you light the void
like a bonfire
in a garbage dump

you taste your own death
on the tip
of your own sucker

you strap soup cans to your mouth
and ears
wired together entangled
entranced together
and you claim to hear god

the world sleeps in
lost in a raw dream
of static and painful love
absent of kings and jesters
and kings and jesters

write down your legacy
and use it to cushion your coffin

hoo rah mayor of selfie town
la dee da king of the fun house mirror
drown in the alphabet soup of yer name
show strangers the pictures of yourself in yer wallet

have fun on the thin road
that leads to a thinner road
that leads to a thinner road still

COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2015

THE MAILMAN

and in the middle of the night
the boy sneaks back into his poet soul
out of nowhere
he climbs into the rib cage of his heart
pulls up the skin of his arms like sleeves
and finds his electric fingers bouncing on the keys

sometimes the brain packs up its shit
lifts its trousers and two little suitcases
and hops on a plane to nonsenseville, nowhere
sometimes it’s meditation
sometimes yer running from a life yer afraid of
throwing on kicks and pushing off the ground
into the dark forest
push through to spectre
where some blonde girl throws yer sneakers up on the line
sometimes some times some times
blah blah blah

here we are
you and me. a fireplace. a bottle of whiskey.
a really fucking big bottle of whiskey haha.
you and me.
(it’s inescapable really the way i think about
you)
but dear reader it’s you too!
it’s you i love too!
you’ve been so patient with my anxious stupid.
you’re always there for me.

i am sorry if i’ve been an absent father of a poet.
life isn’t always linear.
in a world where we are multiple people
there’s a lot of group therapy to be had.

my path has never been that of a paintbrush –
i’ve got bills to pay
debts from past lives
(kind of makes me sound like a drug dealer)
but the truth is
i’m more of a free spirit
with its ghostly tail attached to a dollhouse.

but i’m here to visit.
here to say hello.
to shake the hand to kiss the baby
to go around the wedding saying nice things
to dance with the bride
to love the way the love manual tells me to love

but then
in the middle of the night
i pull my heart up from under the floorboards
throw it in my tin man chest
and i splatter my red all over the walls
i graffiti the city and i flood the streets
and the townspeople will awake
to find christmasday in july
to find the sonic echos of my soul
and a dead poet in the street
then buried in the ground
then mixing with the worms and the roots

that is how they will find me
and you and him and her and the mailman

COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2015

i am unafraid to say to you.

let each day work towards my freedom
let each moment in love be unabashedly sincere
let each porch swing swing high into the night
fly off its ropes and ascend graceful into the heavens

let there be flashfloods of hope
lightning storms of abundance
angels dancing like hipsters in the flat
of some famous dead poet

let us kiss like we just discovered this. lips
let us bust through the ropes that contain
our cocaine hearts
let us be ready to face our new love

let the birds free from the chapel
traveling through time to a holy grave
soldiers falling for the future
as one ascends into existence in this white light symphony
this giant sandbox of death and orgasm

let die the dying dog
pour water on the campfire and get some sleep
take moments to just be
tear them off the paper on the bulletin board
call the number listed

let lay my head beneath you
i do not fear how tall you are
i am unafraid to say to you
i am unafraid to say to you
i am unafraid to say to you
how deep your rivers run through my limbs

let down the moon from drunk denver
let our steps be chaotic, unplanned and together
let lay we against the timeless brick walls
let lay we lost in the cosmos above oz

let we move
not forward not backward
not any way in particular
let we dance yes dance
dance veronically for the world
let we dance for the stoplights
for the lost generations
let we breathe this gospel in
let we scatterbrain talk
let we automatic touch
let we semi-automatic breathe
let we swallow these great sighs like buildings falling

these tied up wildflowers
i am unafraid to say to you
i am unafraid to say to you
i am unafraid to say to you the end.

COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2015