the echo that defines the abyss

I wake up at one thirty
then I forget to eat and and fight myself
the evenings are prettiest: I drink
and watch hero movies in which heroes
follow a direction

the echo that defines the abyss was originally published on Meandering home

Toothache :)

I want to write an ugly poem about
it that is fully artificial
a temporary edifice in broken verse
I want to reinvent every word to prey
and rape the makers of my pain

I want to kill the little man who reads the pain to me
turn off his sound and wait and see
and then kill also, his comedy

Toothache :) was originally published on Meandering home

do you know a name? (parental guidance advised)

every Monday i wake up with with a pain that i am not allowed to call pain
some subconsciousness has conspired to destroy whatever vital ambition

i hate this fucking show but i am not allowed to turn it off

week by week my life is rotting away
i have lost all interest and inspiration but i still get it up

so neither am i allowed to call it a depression
do you know a name?

do you know a name? (parental guidance advised) was originally published on Meandering home

real hypochondria

I created this illness
together with histamines
and B lymphocytes
to you, I imagine the pain
worse: you nod and I recoil
I have no heavens to curse
and shallow is the temptation of the soil

real hypochondria was originally published on Meandering home

Subway station

I imagine feeling elated
when I walk in the underground concrete
counting irksome smiles and turnstiles
breathing bubbles into transient thoughts
that need not be fierce and piercing
I imagine yellow trains leaving
on the lower levels that connect the shopping
and further I imagine electric voices
barking liberation from melting speakers
and all the imagery on the other side

Subway station was originally published on Meandering home

The gizzard of Halcyon

The world is a forest
we cheapskate light on the forest floor
high above flies the body of the bird
of cool. We fools look up to see if she’s gone

halcyon, junky of the cloudless skies
deal me more words, I want to play.
I want to prove I’m here
I want the spirits to turn me on
and live as long as the fish
who dies in the gizzard of halcyon

The gizzard of Halcyon was originally published on Meandering home

Ceci n’est pas un poème déprimé

The hatred of my hatred vindicates me:
I am still a consciousness
in and of the world, death foreshadowing
in all of its tissues

My body tortures itself
I must watch, I watch
pain is no measure as my spirit is gone
this is not suffering: I am an automaton

I don’t want to wait
while life flees from me
like a scared rodent flees
from bigger rodents

Ceci n’est pas un poème déprimé was originally published on Meandering home