acraein

If I could reach out in the night
If I reached out through the cold
If I could reach you
What would I do?
(A picture of a pet)
(A song composed by friends unmet)

If I could stream you bits
And we passed on the old road
Would you filter it?
Would you listen to my voices hiss?
(My flaps and taps and stops)
(My croaky northern packet loss)

Interaction is diminishing 
When I speak you aren't listening 
When you call upon me through the fog
I hear my inner monologue 

A billion voices flung to space
Wave creation at unrivaled pace
No ears to hear my poor guitar
My voice will nestle among the stars

It's not the bloom
Not the hue
Nor the blues
Or the cues
It's the flora fauna

Butter tunes 
Filling shoes
Fixes crude
Super glue
Got that azure aura

Look alive
Little moon
Rocket ride
Landing crew
Watch the crater

Too
In the groove
Miss the muse
Camera crews
I'll do it later

Turn to you
Still I swoon
Stutter smooth
At twenty two
Until forever

No excuse 
Drinking fumes
Faulty fuse
Hit the snooze
It's the carburetor 

A sloop
On the soup
Maybe four
Maybe two
Later alligator

If I cleaned my gutters out
I wouldn't think about
Violet flame.
Flowers drink rain.
So I wouldn't say lilacs 
Are hydroponically hard to maintain.

I'll know my fire went out
If I eye that bathroom grout
and feel ok.
There's no way
I'll get to it.
Nothing you can't clean with spit.

So long TV static sound.
You'd turn it up because you'd found
You'd feel ok.
Feeling frayed,
Another stage,
just treading common ground.

What is joy but what we make?
Another view of the same shape.
A little twist, a figure eight.
Just twist for me, babe.

Meaning is meaningless in space.
And constellations don't know their names.
A solipsist has lost the game.
Nothing in the mind remains.

The only real I cannot see,
from vision to visionary
are quiet eyes when you look at me.
Are quiet eyes that see through me.

I can't see my eyes you see,
And you can't see inside of me.
The side of me you want to see
is sailing Saturns rings.

Why do you run?
What is at the core?
And what is it you're dreaming for?
I love just like the winter sun.
You love like the old cartoons.
Patterns of teacups in my mind
Passions once held, far behind
And somehow I lost it again.
Writing names with acrostics.

Every line I parse
makes my heart tear apart.
That moment in history
Feel it for eternity.

Invisible threads
stretching from our eyes
that weave the world that we despise 
I take my place up on the ride.
There is no paint, pastels or time.
Plotting points inside my mind
mapping these old globes of time
well black and marble, gold and glass
a situation logged and cast.

Some days we can't fake a face.
Feel foundations crumbling.
The cracks and crows are showing age.
Spreading to another page.

Speaking the language of mothers young
to mothers of a different tongue
you watch the fathers nod along.
You tap your foot and sing a song.
Speaking the language of lovers old.
Tones with decades of layered code.
An eyebrow that can stop freight trains.
A tensing lip that summons rains.

I want to say
that I think it gets better.
A simple song
that probably could have been a letter.
So dry your eyes
before they get a little wetter.

I likely lied
when we sat there by the water.
I think your fire
probably burns a little hotter.
Bless your mom
we're so lucky that we've got her.

A carnival
of thoughts falling from your well.
A simple smile
is how I know you broke the spell.
It's ok,
now help me clean these eggshells.

One year
in the span of a day
we know.
We've grown.
Butternut just whittled away.
Got the
Feet of a crow.

In time
could the daylight hours grow?
If so
who knows?
Could you bank a few extra dimes?
Sublime.

Don't say
'one day' ever again.
Let's go.
This glow
Getting dim by the day.
Classic refrain.

I know
I'm slow to get going.
Please stay.
My brain
works like paper mache,
just a patchwork of paste.

I'm down at the corner cafe sipping bitter cliche.

This house of flies

I spun.

If I

Could turn back time.

If I

Could un-spin the sun.

The calm of cool undone.

Spool un-spun to pools of wool.

Isn’t it though

The perfect rhyme?

A softer dough

Still rises fine.

Through halls of wax

I run.

If I could turn

Towards time

If I could un-sing

The sun

And just be done.

An omen a magpie told
The three swords a seller sold
Not for silver
Not for gold

A long forgotten domino
Three birds adorn the rose bough
Does it care?
Does it know?

Gotta gather up the mess around you
Gotta mess around and glue it to you
You calibrate and find your breakthrough 
You're turning off, you hit the drive-thru

Oh I have seen a world
so different from my own.
And one where I
Harvest what I've sown.

A bone will crack 
A stitch and suture
In my place 
I see the future 

Artifacts as clear as day
Matters of the composition 
One choice one outcome
Stay the course or reposition?

One hour I may feel
A certain way.
A change in waves reveal 
My dynamic range.

I wonder if I know anything at all.
Maybe my experience 
Is fractured at the fault.
If I took apart my essences
Recompiled my chemistry 
Would I whir,
Or would I stutter
Screeching to a halt?

Oh I have seen a world
I love to call my own.
A glimpse of some
Winner's wishing bone.

A photograph
Pristine and pure 
No work in post
Captured the allure