March 17, 2016

Faceless to Faceless

A tour guide through your robbery
He also is

Cigarette saying, “look what I did about your silence.”

Ransom water and box spring gold
-This decade is for accent grooming

I guess

Ransom water and box spring gold
-The corner store must die

War games, I guess

All these tongues rummage junk

The start of mass destruction
Begins and ends
In restaurant bathrooms
That some people use
And other people clean

“you telling me there’s a rag in the sky?”
-waiting for you. yes-

we’ve written a scene
we’ve set a stage

we should have fit in. warehouse jobs are for communists. But now more corridor and hallway have walked into our lives. Now the whistling is less playful. The barbed wire is overcrowded too.

My dear, if it is not a city, it is a prison.
If it has a prison, it is a prison. Not a city.

When a courtyard talks on behalf of military issue,
all walks take place outside of the body.
Dear life to your left.
Medieval paintings to your right.
None of this makes an impression.
Crop people living in thin air.
You got five minutes
to learn how to see
through this breeze.
When a mask goes sideways,
barbed wire becomes the floor.
Barbed wire becomes the roof.
Forty feet into the sky
becomes out of bounds.
When a mask breaks in half,
mind which way the eyes go.

They’ve killed the world for the sake of everyone having the same backstory

We’re watching Gary, Indiana fight itself into the sky

Must Be You, Rusty Blue

Old pennies for wind. For that wind you feel before the hood goes up and over your headache. Pennies that stick to each other (mocking all aspirations). Stuck together pennies was the first newspaper I ever read. Along with the storefront dwelling army that always lets us down.


Where the holy spirit favors the backroom. souls with blue and red behind their taste buds. Stained glass jailers. Souls in a situation that offer one hundred ways to remain a loser. Souls watching the clock hoping eyes don’t lie to sad people.


“what were we talking about?”
the narrator asked the graveyard
-ten minutes flat-
said the graveyard
-the funeral took ten minutes-
“never tell anyone that again”
the narrator severely replied

“You just going to pin the 90s on me?”
-all thirty years of them-
“Then why should I know the difference between sleep and satire?”

the pyramid of corner stores fell on our heads
-we died right away

that building wants to climb up and jump off another building
-these are downtown decisions

somewhere on this planet it is august 7th

and we’re running down the rust thinking, “one more needs to come with me”

on earth, so
that we could
be sent back

A conductor of minds
In a city-wide symphony
Waving souls to sing
He also is

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