The limits of my language mean the limits of my world.

Ludwig Wittgenstein, Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus (1922)

he's an artist without hands

without teeth

without toes

without tongue

in his head he paints

landscapes of unseen pleasures

he could save the world

in his mind a sculpture

oh it is devastating

and beautiful

there would never be another war

if he only had hands

it is the way of the universe

to cripple the astonishing

he crawls his body

like a worm

over canvases

he kneels in the clay

and pushes and pulls

away the day

but it will never be

as lovely as a tree

inspiration

that's what others say

his art is inspiration

but that is a long way

a long

way

from expectation

no escape

for an artist

no escape
from interpretation

i loved you first

its been a secret
and i left it
my heart is bloody
and rotten
kicked to death and forgotten

i want to bury it
but i can't
i want to shove it in your hands

above they are builders
its not a glass house
or a chapel
perhaps a sepulcher

i haven't been this dark in a while
i could have forgotten
every smile

i can't help but rhyme

are they building a monument to every failure
of lost chances
upheld hands
empty glasses
my collections
worthless
ashes to ashes
its one of those moments

wet coughs
wet eyes
dry mouths

longing for something to feel

god damn it
god damn it
all to hell

can't escape it this time
can't out run you

what would it be like
if i never let you in
who would i be now

writing to survive
i've got to get it all out or it'll eat me alive
i loved you first
i loved you first
i know i'm awful
full
full
up
excuses
and sickness
and endless drought
i'd doubt you forever
i'm a rushing river
changing

different fish in my stream
different dreams
i can't make it make sense

i'm the desert
i'm the sea

i'm an ocean of sympathy
i'm a vast heat that eats your tears

i'm a definition of all your fears
ridiculous
and
ridiculing
circling
encircling
drilling
down in hopes of spring
hoping
for a rebound
hoping for health
or just a joy
one simple sound
what if it never comes
keep saying its
ok
it's going to be ok
but i'm there
i'm lost
again
looking up
from the hole
from the forest floor
can't find an original thought

just the hope that i can write it out
spinning webs
need to be forgiven
need a house to live in
need to need less
to want less
to be more
this will get better
this can not
last forever

i broke my heart

When the lights came up

where the matress
positioned center stage
lay crumppled

under two bodies
a murder of sorts
it would seem to be

she sits
alarmed

gathers herself and flees

When a thing has been said and well, have no scruple. Take it and copy it.
- Anatole France

he dies

the rope,
if you can call it that,
the rope,
is taught around his neck,
what a star,
what a fan,
what a joke.

how
how
and
why

oh dear
tighter
tighter
tighter

doe doe doe dont
stop
.

the sound of breaking

he took a step in the right direction
and the ground cracked under those feet
a construction of crackers and sweat and saliva
eyes opening after a long sleep.

a giant
a monster
a god

the
words
would not come
a struggle in silence

the death of humanity

noisy creatures
held a gasp
even the trees were streaming

oh unbelieving.

crumbling
crumbling

as a poem
unfinished
diminished
forgotten.

The Great Enemy

The great enemy of clear language is insincerity. When there is a gap between one's real and one's declared aims, one turns as it were instinctively to long words and exhausted idioms, like a cuttlefish spurting out ink.
- George Orwell

The reason why so few good books are written is that so few people who can write know anything.
- Walter Bagehot
To be pleased with one's limits is a wretched state.
- Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
The surest way to make a monkey of a man is to quote him.
- Robert Benchley

scraps of paper in the park

slow & steady
fast & uncertain
slow if positive
fast yes negative
slow no positive
~0~
throat closing
runny nose
eyeballs inflating
its the season
of love
unfathomable
discomfort
the wait
remembering
you couldn't
sleep over
because you still wet the bed
tumbling
bumbling- kicked
in the head
joyful noise
makes heads ache
time slime
and another
mistake.
that time- the
last time- the
first time is one.
burst that bubble- pop
time to blow
again.
chew you up
and push it out.
capable to gather bits
of trash and
land and heals
on wheels