average

peaceful but with treason

decorated in excess

more disabled than dishonored

precious previous prepositions

littered the ground like gum

slanted

unclean

uncut

angled

a ramp a ramp an incline for answers

lavish like the lucky

presentable, at last

 

frantic forever

forever frantic 

lies looked luscious

this time around

but i just looked average

underwhelming

my mitigated manuscript met its match

with a time tuck turnstyle of a defense 

the devil deserves the hear the end

spoiler alert or whatever

why were wastes of time winning

why was waste winning 

warm, without reason

seasons, a shift

i could feel my bones

suffocating my marrow 

 

writers block

i'd stopped becoming 

the words

i didn't even feel like writing anymore

 

there weren't combinations

delightful playfulness

mixed satire

like chunky peanut butter

all the luster was gone

all the glitter was dulled

 

i was mad cuz i was happy

i was mad cuz i was happy

 

i just assumed that made me boring

i'm boring you

aren't i?

 

bricks and mortar

mortar and bricks

emphasis on the 2,4 

no... the 1, 3

no don't worry about it 

 

i could be strength

or i could be weakness

and i could be a run-on

or i could just cut it shor-

literary analysis

i tried to be poetry, ethereal, unreal

apparently my metaphors can't show you how i feel

my illusions fell flat, my imagery a bore

i'm neither the lock nor the key to your door 

you're not a leaf, a tide or sun in my eyes

i'm literal now, not some moral that dies

or the bones or the scars or the dust on the shelf

you're you. and i'm me. now go fuck yourself. 

 

my thing

particles of dust more like lust more forgotten than not

changing rearranging (that was an easy one) i'll take what you got

framed them shamed them bit my tongue so i wouldn't blame them 

deplorable and portable and not fucking adorable 

my patience running thin my creations first of kin

but timing wasn't my thing

rhyming was 

blackout

clamor wrought clocks
undesirable went, flipped
fragility took up a little more space
plots, just a freeze frame
shock, just a freeze pop
beauty, less attractive
lust, there just... wasn't any
confusion meant correction
practicality ate the abstract
the lights were brighter
til the bulb burned out

when i

when i smoke cigarettes i feel like a poet
i’ll take it plain
i’ll take it black
i changed my mind again
i had become so good at changing my mind
i was slowly transitioning into a gimmick, a cartoon
and was hilariously okay with it
the room cleared
as each confused
bundled themselves up
as i grappled and debated
twenty six seemed like
the exact number
to make me cry

when i tear pages i feel like a poet
i tricked myself into a memory
layers peeled off
layers put on
layers peeled off
layers put on
layers peeled off
layers put on
i tricked myself into a coma
i begged my eyesight to be better
i wasn’t really as destructive as i wanted to be
i shook my head at obsession
every page more full than before
every clock more wound than before
every sunset, a sunset
every meal, just a meal

when i count stars i feel like a poet
distance wrung itself like an old rag
and i took a bath in what was left
i always cheated when i did a trust fall
i back peddled
i back peddled
i always wanted to be the highest point in the room
i climbed
i climbed
i always made rules
i followed
i followed

when i sleep late i feel like a poet
i was aching to see my name more places
so i wrote it
over and over
i just wanted to care less
i’ve always wanted to care less
but i exist with less than two minutes on the clock
and so i watched the replays
i watched the replays
i watched the replays
i watched the replays
i wish i could become
the space between my contradictions
i wish i could become
the off beats
i wish my hearing was better
and my observation skills worse
i spend my time wishing
i spend my time writing
i spend my time hot but mostly cold
i spend my time there but mostly here
i’m looking for persuasion

but i’m not looking that hard

easier said than done

rambunctious fading divided by secrets kept secret
an underground delusion flocking towards popularity personified
last week wasn’t so bad
this week isn’t so bad
ruptured less calm than before ruptured
i am the function
i am the collection
i am the spell breaker
devised and spelt out
severed and drawn out

rather than swindle
rather than this and that and that and this
rather than giggle and giggle
rather than guzzle and guzzle
i
bit
my
tongue

property tax

i tried to take the old words
and turn them into new words
i tried to sell my samples
undersell them, i should say
held tightly
quickly gripping
a light storm, at least
a raincheck
a nightmare
i desisted and ceased
with complex layered chaos
in sixths sevenths and thirds
i stopped before complaining
cuz i myself couldn’t play
free wheeling
gentle distrust
the friends of the beast
the homeless
the discourse

i bought rented and leased

a sonnet on a cold day

sometimes there’s talking after the song is recorded
sometimes there’s breath after the smoke’s all out
the old man’s blinks were intentional but discordant
the young girl’s teapot had a handle, a spout

there was building and building, a determined new start
there was digging and digging for the fossils below
the old man was balding, gone was his part
the young girl matched her tights to her bow

the postcards were burned, the letters obsolete
the emails begged for the clicked resend
the old man swore off his hands, cursed his feet
the young girl murdered her imaginary friend

a thousand hands in the air, a thousand aches to be involved

all the specifics became generic, all the ages dissolved

looks like we made it

i like the jokes i don’t like the texture just a jester an underhand gesture downed a gallon for your health FOR HEALTH! spell it all out because the end result was always under construction anyway leveling it out delving into it scared of the underwhelming sure to overbear learn a language write a song appetite doesn’t have to die with the changing banging charisma that used to reign supreme seek your shadow send a postcard with a nun hula-hooping on it door to door sales are sure to stop caress the impractical laying down the law on a new reality deserting a liar for a smile and a free hot chocolate spanning the globe with a small attempt to just dissolve clarity lived down the block from realism and the hurricane hit hard so can we all please settle down and get excited and stop a second stop a second second enjoy a joke for a joke and maybe a little more spread it all so thin revel and revel and revel there is no end

back2bk

it’s not coming out as words these days
there’s plenty-a cashed bowls, cigarette ash
soaked coasters
half charged iphones
lipstick on straws
worn heels, broken heels
plenty-a roof screaming, lengthy exhaling
overpriced bagel sandwiches
new faces saying not new things
old faces saying… something awesome, i’d assume
seems like there’s lots of hazy arguments, free free days
complaints on repeat, jokes jokes jokes
on layers of awe, anger, annoyance, abnormality
of wandering contention
it’s not coming out as words these days

but there’s plenty-a laughing, I gotta admit

no ulterior motive

i will rhyme i promise i will rhyme
it will not be a slant rhyme
it will be good
it will make you say ooooh that sure was clever
what a clever girl
you will like what i have to say
you will like how i say it
you probably will not like me as much as you like those things

i will smile because i have dimples and when i smile you can see the dimples
and i am cuter than when i don't smile. i think you will agree

i have a memory that is persistent 
it does not forget details very easily 
there is a poison that i sometimes drink that makes me forget details much more easily
you have drank way more poison than i have. so have you and probably you too. 
on a friday night (that is the night for fun you know that of course (please don't have fun other nights))
the amount of poison consumed in my city in my state in my country 
is relatively terrifying. saturday too. 

i can feel the muscles in my back.
i can feel the muscles in my legs. 
i can feel the muscles in my arms. 
i think i'm stronger than you. you too. not you though you look pretty strong

i've read a lot of poems. how many poems do you think you've read? 
how many songs do you think you know? 
it's weird because big numbers are still numbers
it makes me mad that infinity can get bigger like the equasion infinity + infinity = infinity 
does that make you mad?
(i don't think i spelled equasion right) (i looked it up it's a t not an s. english sure is strange but it doesn't make me mad does it make you mad?)
i like to ask questions with no ulterior motive
i don't think this happens that often 
the next time i'm asked why do you ask i vow to answer i like answers
do you like questions or answers better? 
i like how 6:45 looks on clock hands best out of all the combinations of clock hands
i'm excited because it's 6:08 except i don't always get excited for 6:45
but i still think it's important to have favorites
i just realized my favorite color is glow-in-the-dark

i don't really think time is of the essence anymore because i kinda think time is mean
i tried to stop hating everything that wasn't my favorite but it was really hard 

the backs of my eyes

i can’t write poems like i wrote in january
and i can’t count cards like i counted in october
can’t take shots like i took in august
and i can’t trace stencils like i traced in april

weather turned to weather
snow to rain
water on water on water

i was not ready
i was not collected
a map unnoticed
i was a map unnoticed
frenzy dissipated
(like i fucking predicted)
ten clicks, glazed eyes
a brand with plans i refused to recognize
i burned another calendar
and the results weren’t so clear, after all

space was suffocating me
as level as scripted conversation
i backed out on my star contract
i reneged that meteor deal
black holes kept calling...i didn’t pick up

breathing became my boyfriend
i was queen of affection
i was queen of attention
i was queen, oh i was queen
femininity was mine for the taking
so fuck all you suckaaaaaaaas

i started smashing
all those orbs i saw
i started clashing
shoes to pants to shirt to hat

the splattered crossover caught my eye
but i was faithful
the deadline spent it’s inheritance
but i was frugal
the tools rusted, rust on rust
but i was flawless
the clouds created a prison
but i was free

i kept raising the stakes
but i wasn’t in love
no, really, i wasn’t in love

i stopped investigating the sky
but breakups are never easy
they started charging me for change
but, like, it’s not really my fault
that I’m as young as I am
and that everyone’s an asshole

i knew all about magic
cuz i believed in magic
i knew all about style
cuz i believed in style
i knew all about words
cuz i believed in words

what i knew and what i believed
started fucking, couldn’t stay friends
oh it was all messed up

freedom for freezing
(my words were becoming something else)
practiced participation, parallel precipitation
nights on nights on nights

flurry of the laces as means to hang the globe
flavored lightly, seasoned lightly
disoriented ricocheted oblivion
the weight was hard to judge

i couldn’t be what they thought i was
i couldn’t get taken seriously these days if i tried
plans became numbers
became puddles
became debris

it wreaked of unknown territory, of creativity shouted
collided waiting for a chance to go really go really go for it
not force fed, not persuaded
a nocturne paralysis for the sake of something forgotten

i gathered dismissal slips
i found the shredder
i found the shredder
i found the shredder

i thought there’d be more words
by the time i grew up
thought light would be liquid
thought money’d be morbid
thought people would be free

i write poems so i can become them
not like a weirdo
more like a transcendentalist

sometimes i become convinced my leg muscles
are too long for my legs
sometimes i become convinced
of a lot of things

i was rather misconstrued about how i would feel in the world on my own
but i’m not mad
i used to think it’d make me mad
and i’m not even sad
i thought for a while, i’d get real sad
but, i guess,
when i’m all of it
and when i’m none of it
when i’m a midwest winter
when i’m a brooklyn ice cream truck
when i’m roots, trunks, branches
when i’m leaves only leaves
if if then then
i’ll get less scared
and i’ll see it all decorated

in the way i imagined

slide to open

a million strangers will come and go
they’ll look at each other
and at me
but mostly at their phones

i’ll get distracted and sad
and i’ll get temporarily inarticulate
and i’ll cry in coffee shops
in very close proximity
to a bunch of people

looking at their phones

pragmatic, ya know

almost like breathing but easier but cleaner
almost like bleeding but eerier but coarser
almost like breaking but eagerer but crazier
almost like boasting but eviler but colder

fragility convulsed on the brink of her first original idea
reassurance as propaganda or so she thought

the air she smelled missed photosynthesis
she did too

her contradictions convinced her she was interesting
her needs were as needy as everyone else’s

happiness hugged remorse
confusion killed impulse
fear fucked balance
the time was her time and she begged it to stay

you can see the colors if you look into my eyes really hard

jamming and jamming
to the unheard tune
framed inside four 90 degree angles
sure seemed like a lot of pressure

if you don’t want to go, you don’t have to go
if you don’t want to go, you don’t have to go
if you don’t want to go, you don’t have to go

i didn’t need sympathy, i needed a haircut

barely accurate means not accurate

I’m sorry I’m so so sorry
something about april reminds me of mortality

and if it’s not sadness what is it
and if it’s not fury what is it
and if it’s not now when is it
and it it’s not later when is it

like memory

ONE
i remember when it was less beautiful
and made more sense
i remember when it was more beautiful
and made less sense

i remember when my brain moved slower
when time was my telescope
when distance took naps

i remember my broken CD player
my broken boombox
my broken box

before there was beating sun, there were beaches
light stole shapes stole sheets stole shore
before there was hot sand and cold sand
there were sunsets, mostly the same

TWO
my cooling coffee
in my cooling coffee shop
inaugural adjustments
on the fire escape
talking full voice
sorry, can’t hear you
walking bass line
sorry, can’t catch you
mixed messages
crass jokes
i got brought back
i was brought back
i kept expecting someone i knew
to walk through the door
ok i was waiting for him
to walk through the door
placated simplicity
asked who really was the smartest
all the creatives
started asking for their money
all the money
started asking for it’s mom
all the banks collapsed
all the debt dissolved
all the everything
got madder and madder
flaccid chord structure
and terrible lyrics
washed me over and over
choices as mosquito bites
open windows in the rain
exaggerated flamboyancy
distrusted recognition
power punched combinations
i googled every sentence
i googled every word
variance became my edge
flippancy became my-
never mind I’d always been flippant
health at cost for a cultural embrace
as both an involved and an anti
mirror into mirror into mirror
rather replicated and okay with it
canned, convoluted, oversaturated, overdrawn
an anticlimactic break
in an old fashioned fashion
i felt i was being too quiet
so i got myself interrupted
i felt i was taking it too seriously
it was fiction, after all
but none the less
i still get nervous eating pomegranate seeds
and i’m constantly leaving dean to the road
i always check if he’s a montague
and i swear i didn’t kill the albatross
i’ve seen the same bearded face
over and over
i’ve heard the same bushwick hipster joke
a thousand times
and still, i minded neither
and spent all the money i made

THREE
i get so sad at the ends of pages
and far less sad at the ends of roads
i remember a trail much longer than i should
i remember their names much more often than i should
it’s not the rules i’ve forgotten
it’s the record
i’ve never been the girl with the umbrella
i’m the girl with the backpack
qualitated vocabulary
a restless comedian
authenticated wisdom
trying to remember
which meant greater than
which meant less than
flavored distaste
inarticulate past tense
i shortened the wire
i shortened the rope
i sorted through profile picture after profile picture
the cover version just wasn’t the version i wanted
bricks were laid by that bricklayer there
but i didn’t want to believe
layers were made
of jazz and consonants
of peace and nicotine
of passwords and naivete
of gin and color
of blood and guts
freezing and unfreezing
frozen and unfrozen
i piled recollections

like the woodstacks of my youngest youth