magic


haunting is the past.
guide to prevent
repeat offenses,
however, blood drips.
     hate stains on my pretty yellow sunflower dress.


     master-minding time machine
     impossible. Hammering late into the night.


Father, can I tweak time?
Promise no craziness.


present moment love trust on a scale
grams/divided I sniff lines
fetal in a cloud
eyessqueezedshut (sniff)
     no tears, but hopes
     trickling down mountainous cheek peaks.


Father, can I tweak time?
Erasing the gashes only?


future holds it's secrets tight and loose
leaf paper.
scribing in the middle of dance floor
spinning,
     wide eyes
     dizziness evades, clarity reveals
     steadiness in a pretty yellow sunflower dress.


running out of tools.


Father, can I tweak time?
I'ma do right.


just a tweak.

Window Seat


don't want nobody next me.
(I don't)
don't wanna time travel no more.
(I wanna be here)


not there. in a


tangled thicket
mental.
garish makeup
face.


worthless as half-baked cake,
silly witless dove
heart ablaze for intrigue.


aflame with lust,
children of Samaria like,
Daniel wrote.


replica replacing authentic,
external shell inches to make
miles instead of the soul.


what's really real?


window seat please and if anysoul selling trust, I'm buying by the BULK.

if i could start all over, I would.
lay a new foundation
build a new house

if i could start over, I would rename history
not compromise eyes in battle
rather stand and fight then turn thine back

if I could start over, nothing irrelevant
would seep through the pours of life, but
rather die on the surface

if I could.

so I did.

the word

regoegocentric. heard it in my  dreams
the vibe is new

regoegocentric.

Dreams

woke from an extended dream of drama
and chase.
he clinging obsessively, gun in tow
angry vicious same hungry pits on hot sauce
ridden with abuse
he sought me...
hopped in aunts truck, spilled the story
"he's crazy"
even mentioned my offspring!
shot at me! not to kill, but rather instill fear.

he was teased in the end..looked very much like a little girl

unconscious mind gotta a lot to say these days.

whatevER

3:34 a.m. and not enough snow on the ground
to cancel ANY FRIGGIN' THING!

Surmise God laughs at man attempting
to predict the weather..

Sounds a lot like trying to grasp water/
Live apart from affection/

Damn!

It's 3:38 and not enough snow on the ground
to cancel ANY FRIGGIN THING!

No regrets

earlier than a thief's stuck-up-
up and at em
meditating on events
with no void to fill.


no regrets.