Ripping Holes in my Cheeks


Ripping holes in my cheeks
Listening to haikus of the Friend
Slowing the violence at the lips

It is everything in me to be here
To be here,
it is everything in me

Warm winds of vaporous angels
Let the summer flies pass
here and gone through the back window

It is everything in me to be still
To be still,
It is everything in me

And surprisingly
It does not hurt,
It does not hurt at all



Towards the Blue and the Red and the Red

It’s a 𝑛𝑖𝑐𝑒 day in Chicago again
And I woke up with a 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛
I could 𝑝𝑎𝑑𝑑𝑙𝑒 down lakeshore drive
I could turn 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑒
into 𝑤𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟
into 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑒
I want to travel with my 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 again
Through the 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑡ℎ and the 𝑤𝑒𝑠𝑡 again
Towards the blue and the 𝑟𝑒𝑑 and the 𝑟𝑒𝑑
But not the colors 𝑦𝑜𝑢 know

𝑆𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑝ℎ𝑖𝑐 shades of aliveness
Bonded hues 𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑤𝑛
Somewhere 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 Chicago
But not the layers 𝐼 know

I 𝑚𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑚𝑦 routine trip
𝐴𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑒 last night
𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑛𝑜𝑤 It’s time, time again
to let these the streams run 𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛

and 𝑎𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘roads
of my head again
To 𝑝𝑢𝑙𝑙 this static 𝑡𝑣 screen
tight onto my 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛



Slow burn to September

“Seasons change”
I've heard it before
Time and time again they do

If you live in the midwest
(& you’re lucky)
You get four

But I’ve yet
To bear this devil’s winter
Without you

They get a little longer
Every cycle, it seems
The climate is changing and changing

Or maybe time’s got away from me
Soaked up
in sunshine deficiency

Isn’t it strange
to not want you
to want me?

Isn’t it strange
to practice
What I cannot preach?

Isn’t it strange
to smell
The burning Autumn leaves

Simply in the sound of “September”?

When you can’t yet see
The changes in color?

When seasons change…
Shouldn’t they change color?

When climates change,
Shouldn’t we seek cover?

Over floating, drifting
In cold, open water

Slowly approaching the thought of “September”

Isn’t it strange
to not want you
to want me
Forever?