Nassau, 2014

everything went white

neither darkness

nor light

perhaps shadows

could have been the drugs

but it didn't feel like

murmerers mumbled

perhaphs polite

unheard, almost silent

quiet, and nice

complete white comfort

perhaps a pause

just shadows

but it felt alright

Adam

sometimes - memories quiver
slowly, like sliding into a spider
suspending from its webstring

it frightens
drags the furniture into the bathroom
to get a good think on things, easily, cozily
restfully

driving buckets round the island
how old were we then?
linoleum floors
sounded like buildings cringing

it was just you and me
back then
you had the curls, the girls
I had the humor
and a naive sense of things

still do

just me now -
popping through life
thinking these things -
except for the memories
occasional dreams
that stick like spider strings
you're still here
aren't you?

Company

I'm glad you came
company is...
"as honey is to the jaguar"*
"how did you get there?"
I ask of everyone
Secretly
I seem to stay the same

the time that it takes
to breathe is all that I have
and to stare

true love
"we've never kissed before
and it might be strange"*
I'm using you

*courtesy of John Ashbery and Tobias Jesso Jr, respectively

Bird Caged

this is about you
    bird caged
indulging beliefs, believing indulgences
    at some point
there is no difference
    do you remember the wintery days?
with nothing else to do
    a long time ago
when why was everything
    we don't have much of a winter here
every season has it's own feelings
    with vacation variations
vacation has a melody beyond itself
    at least you cried
Thursday
    I know you did
Wednesday, Friday, I did too
    my family heirlooms are in the ceiling
my possible escape
    somewhere
I could sell them
    but they are strange
it's more about serenity
    loneliness isn't loneliness
if you embrace it (I think, I'm not sure)
    but this is your challenge, not mine
etcetera

I've surrendered
    all of these things:
        failures, realization
            country city kiss lipstick
                songs, companions
                    anguish for vagueness for silence

for what?
    I don't remember
do I project a greedy, bloated costume
    screaming brilliant noises
of gifts unseen?
    I should mention jazz
at this point
    not the genre
the strange, secret spasm
    is that right? is that what it was? it's always been there
what is it today though?
    everything can't be a costume
(time) is a pretzel, it works that way
    there are burning weaknesses
        there are complacent strengths
I rival a machine
but one of the earlier ones
this is about digestion
desires
observations
and the combination of quality and quantity of moments
shit! if I had known.