Potential Song Names

skeletons.jpg

a swan in a tar pit
the brain busted from the jar
i organized my smut films
pray to the government
discounted lobotamy
haikus for hitler
scorsese was a saint
unprinted newspaper
taxi cab yellow
born on the forth of august
died in the arms of a clock
anger management problem
kentucky fried children
the age of bob dylan
god bless you, mayor hancock
twenty dollar motel room

and letters

and letters i do not have the letters that i wish
to have to letter you i do not know where to
begin i love you in a language that i do not
speak and i am so afraid and desperate and
desperately afraid that i will never have the
letters to build the ladder that i wish to build
to climb into your left lung and sail across the
air of you like waves i do not have the letters
and each day you are further away from me i
do not have the letters all i have is this poem
made only from these letters which i use so
very damned often i just wish to hold your
hand in a flea market and i wish to spend my
last days on this earth wandering aimlessly
to the local fruit stand missing you so very
immensely and it will be a hurt that i have
never felt but i don’t know how i will ever
climb into your left lung to have it because
i do not have the letters and so i write in
circles and predicted patterns like a paint
shaker hoping desperate for a crack in the
lid and when the whole colors of it all
splatter maybe i will see that i did not need
the letters because i had the colors i had the
colors inside of me and if it’s your love then
you will have it and that i like to believe i
like to believe i like to believe because i
close my eyes and you are not so sky distant
you are tangible and somewhere maybe
drowning in letters and desperate for color
and i know i will be your favorite color i
know i will if only i can find the letters or
the colors or the maybes tucked behind
bricks in the strange alleys that we’ve
both passed through in dreams

Stupid Flowers Promo

Sink

i see you
in places maybe i shouldn’t
i can’t help it
even in the shattered glass frame
of your dark night of the soul
you radiate like gamma ray bursts

so i see you

as you dance on ink
as you drown in bedsheets
as you dig at your shoulder blades
and you pray for wings

i see you

in halls without doors
in ballrooms without music
in basements without foundation
they just keep sinking
and you could fight back
but in some strange ballet
you sink with them

i realize you are communicating with them

that you will not be swallowed

you are unafraid of depths
and that is not to say
that you are immune to deaths
you feel them wholly
maybe more than all of us combined
but when the light is gone
you open your pupils as wide as they

an immortal child
shining like a bruised orange
continuously peeling and unpeeling
peeling and unpeeling
and i’m lucky i knew you

when i was the darkness that swallowed you
you became me

you were not afraid to sink with me

and when we came out the other side

you were gone
and looking out now on an endless lake
i see the ghost of a deer walking on the water

i see you

 

Stupid Flowers Promo

 

The Bravery

three months ago,
i left my job

three months ago,
i took the etch-a-sketch portrait i’d created
of myself
and i shook it fucking hard

i shook it hard
and watched
as every singular bead
like individual ounces of my security
disappeared

and when i looked in the mirror
i saw just that

an empty etch-a-sketch

but i decided not to sketch again
i decided
that spirit
couldn’t be contained in this way

that this time
there would be no filter
between me and the burning world

i threw the etch-a-sketch through the window
i defenestrated my ugly

and i walked sternly through my front door
naked and cold
out into a vast sea of somethings
that i had never experienced

three months ago,
i began this recreation
i, a self-aware mannequin
tearing any arm that grew from me
if it did not reach for the right things

tearing any leg from me
if it attempted to pace
at any speed
that any human being had before
attempted
to pace

and everyone told me to seek the road

but i quickly knew i did not want the road

i have spent my entire life
a set of four run down rubber wheels
thinking that there was something outside of me
that would save me

some joshua tree
in the middle of a desert
where i would fall to my knees
and know what i was

no.

i am the tree
and i denied myself
any shade
any water
any sense of safety
from the truth of it all
until i could say
that the way my branches splayed out
into the world was like a silent sermon

this way
is the way
i was born to stand

three months ago,
i was born
out of a mouth of secrets
into a wide open sky
that enveloped me
night after night
until i opened my mouth wide enough
to envelope it back

i did not swallow
i let it live there
i told its story

i fluffed the silly clouds
like pillows
and offered the house i carried with me
to whoever
and whenever

freedom is a bravery
one that says not that i am free
but nothing will stop me from being so

beauty is the acknowledgement
that something outside of yourself
is the same as you

truth is laughter

and i don’t know what love is

three months later,
i’m waking up from a dream
and it’s not easy
this
this now is the turn

this now is me
in the shadow of the wave of the dream
wondering do i sit still and hold my breath
or do i swim aimlessly

i’ve grown so far
and now i don’t know anything
maybe that’s the bravery

 

Stupid Flowers Promo

 

g l o o m y

the trees stopped talking, they are lost
in the grey evening, the purple humming sunset, and
i am walking in endless circles in
the middle of the road

the houses are wavering, creeping taller
and shorter, windows like eyes, squeaking
swings where we sat, and contemplated
a reality for us to coexist in

the ground is littered with trash, half
eaten hamburgers, empty soda cups, and
busted roaches

i close my eyes and i am kissing
you, i close my eyes and it is soft and
warm and we’re drowning in an old mattress
in the basement of your parent’s house

i open my eyes and i’m still circling the
street, one dog barking, swing still
squeaking, i am engulfed beneath a giant
sky and i start to feel like i a grasshopper in
a mason jar just hoping someone will shake
the glass

 

Stupid Flowers Promo

The Tilt

but one boy dared to go play in traffic
and despite what you might picture for him
the traffic learned to swerve around his magic
from the sidelines the other boys looked onward
and they saw nothing short of illusion

it wasn’t illusion
it was nothing short of a victory of the soul
stubborn thumping rebellion outweighing cold measured logic
the tilt in the axis of the earth

Stupid Flowers Promo

Blues #3

one of those days where you just watch the movie over and over again. you stare on again as the man drives down the orchard avenue. as he picks up the black and white girl in the colorful dress. as they drive to the hilltop. as they smooch beneath the moon. as he drives her back home. as the dad looks disappointed in the window. as he drives away. as he dreams about her. as he wakes up in the morning and tells his buddies about the date by the lockers. as the bully challenges him to the fight. as they throw fists. as the principal interjects. as the girl gets mad that he fought the bully. as they break up. and they get back together again. and you watch it again. and you eat the cardboard box your cereal came in. and you eat the egg crates. and you chase it down with one hundred raging bulls unsettled in the acid of your stomach. and you close your eyes for the running. and you close your eyes and you hear the film again. seeping into your daydreams. and you wake up. and you’re back again. you’re back again with the film. and it’s okay. you know it’s gonna be okay. because they’ve broken up before. and they always get back together. and it’s familiar. it’s familiar like your childhood home. like the tin boxes above the kitchen cabinets. like the ceramic chicken in the windowsill above the sink. like the broken latch on the backyard gate. and you could quote the movie. you lip along the words. you anticipate the music. the transitions between scenes. and eventually you fall out of it all. as the dvd menu plays on repeat. and it’s okay. it’s plays on repeat and it’s okay. because when you wake up tomorrow this will be the day that never really happened.

Blues #2

he mourns the death of being a manchild
he thinks to himself this is the end this is it
after tonight i will be a manchild no more
i will no longer have the distinct privilege
of not acknowledging so many specific realities
and he takes all his paint-spattered action figures
and he throws them down the garbage disposal
and he flips the switch like an old-timey frankenstein
movie and he hears them crushed and crushed hard
under the weight of a future that will certainly swallow
him whole like a giant black whale that flies in from the
coast and as he walks his unread books to the corner
bookstore the whale’s black eyes open wide and swallow
him into the vacuous truth of it all

and then there it is
the vacuous truth of it all
the pain is better
it was pain that made the mountains
and the city he grew tall in

Blues #1

my tired squid arms
my back arched too hard
like a great bridge
broken in half and sunken into some dead sea
the hyena laughter upstairs
the moans of strange women
through the cracks
in the walls
the refrigerator laughing and laughing
the paintings that i could never bother to hang
the rusted wheels of shopping carts
pressed onward through my migraine
the undaunted lights
shining down on me like an interrogation
the flat tires on my bicycle
the migraine channel
the pity party channel
the death too soon channel
the disney channel
and the moon is beautiful
the moon is god damn beautiful
the moon is so beautiful
please stay beautiful the moon
stay with me
stay here with me
i’ll be good to this one
i’ll make you breakfast every morning
and kiss you to sleep
i’ll love you like i should’ve loved yesterday
and we swing and we sway
and we swing and we sway
as the gods watch on
most likely in pure confusion