Why would you hold that waffle?

Out in the magic hour air

Did you think this was an oven,

Toaster, convection, defy convention

Display your pockmarked fingers digging

Into the blueberry deposits,

like the zits of papa smurf

Why would you hold that waffle,

With blonde flowing hair like honey

Filling each crevasse like chicken lakes

Poultry and sultry, smell my finger licking good

Leggo my legs mr butter, because you

Melt like a kids candy bar wet dream

Why would you hold that waffle that way

Unwrapped, uncooked, faced and frozen

Towards me, towards camera, towards sun

Throw a digi filter on that, vintage, polaroid

And call it Art, you tar rat

Eight minutes after eight
Your late for your date
How could you feel fate
Unless you were the bait

Either I do it then
And never again
Or never now
And forget how


I’ve never drank as much water in my life as I am now

I need it to replace the tears I’ve wept to be near you

Like the rain forecast in your hometown, I want to fall

For you, all over you, again, soak into your white V-neck T-shift

Around your shoulders, down your chest, past your scars

I need this elemental force to connect us again, to swell

By our ankles deep in the river bed to our hearts

H2O, two parts Human, one part Ours

I knew I could cry from my eyes, but I’m crying out of my nose

I’m leaking all over, an excess of you I need to

Replenish the reserve from the soloed sojourn of belief

Belief that Fortuna spins her wheel

Belief that my focus here will bring me there

Belief that the storm cloud I conjure will be so great

So immense, so powerful, the leviathan of love,

Yet so buoyant and light, that the smallest whispers

Of longing---I miss you, I love you, I need you---

Would carry it across faults, valleys, ridges and bridges

Over plains, mountains, plains and mountains again

To arrive at your roof as the pit, plank drops of truth

The only real weather forecast in years

Brought this swelling of pain turned to gain,

in seeing you, again, Washing your fears

Away, heads to toes, I replace your tears with mine

Blending our longings together, washing over us

Back to the source, soaking our hearts in each other


how think I these


these hopes of Denver

warm, comfort, sunshine

when you are near

four days of disconnect

the line still holds

pony express the love

in letters ne’er to be read

these images of hair filled needles


slivers of you push through my veins

as follicles thicken

ooh Denver, oh subjective love

you grounded me a mile above


Oh DENVER, beacon of stability

City of events

Like love, a festival for two

Planking white feet with flashes

Of skin, teeth, socks, and freckled cheek

OH DENVER, milestoned markers of mountainous

Delight, how can you be on my mind so much

Im addicted, im sooo sooo addicted

I cant stop thinking about you

You are amazing

I love you

Always and 8

Isnt that just dandylion

Convictedvictions sent to slip

Through the amorous entanglement

Of my developing body, knots kicking

The decisions of exponential society

Across desert and rock

Bleached and renewed warholian

Solidarity undoes my heart

Into sweetbitter loneliness


what if that’s the last feeling you had

3 minutes and 16 seconds of mountain

towns, wooden hotels, hot tub Corona

anecdotes with sunburned and swelled skin

aloe vera lubrication of sunstroke lust

little pleasures, fallen arches, stigmatizing sex

parked cars in lots with lots and lots of kisses

tongues licking glasses in flirtatious blindness

shirts lingered scent of skin and hair, next day


just two dancing, white giants on the foothills and

great open plains,

arid love, colorado cowgirl 


Have you ever sneezed in your sleep

And awoken a lucid heartbeat that skipped

The Jungian meaning of apple, turned to dust

The unconscious thoughts of bodily awareness?

we are not thumbnails

millimeter of a year

we used to ride lions

the hairs of my beard turn

mainly orange and black

before the horses gave us

their backs, i look back


unknown maybes

parallel days

updated eyes tap and finger

through it all

zodiac profiles completely plugged in

holding onto manes, reins

majestic footprint on this new society

doing nothing, for those lions, those stallions

and battalions wobbling their torsos down streets

we are not thumbnails, more than

retired veteran history

shaking, their phones, bored

interspherically connected, time is still the same

only the heartbeat has changed, another blip posted

we are not thumbnails, he is not a status, she is not a picture

you are not a thread, I am not a post

we are real


If you haven’t and you should

Ill tell you once, it might be good


Damn you should see the pockets on this thing

Its insane how many apples, how many seeds, how many cores

You can fit in these pockets

Processing you mind

A5? Psshh, its now A11

Do we really need 9.50 x 7.31 sized pockets??

Let me show you where your gala gala bills go

Right here, next to your reproductive organs

With various skins protecting your devices

Green, bamboo, monster, hello kitty, Trojan, virus

Whatever disease you have, its marketable

Am I Siri-us?
Yes, but
I am not a thumbnail
That’s what I want to tell you right now

I am not a profile pic, I am not a status

I am not blog, a note, a link nor am I an update,

I am a human being.

I am a face to face interface

With love and projection

Outside of your digital connection

Dial that up with DSL, timewarner, Comcast, AT&T, Verizon

How can we keep reciting the names of these insane corporate headlines

And not the names of our neighbors?

Keep them at a distance,

Block them out, H&R style, now go on, Sprint, Chase your neighbordhood

There is goes

I am not a thumbnail

I am wearing these pants, my iPants

Because its part of me, its part of my pants

May I interest you in mipants?

See IM interested in connecting

And I’d like to check the wi-fi status in your hotspot

B/c if we are not on sync, if im not beaming something up to the cloud

That you are not seeding

If its not updated and buffering at this___________very moment

Then I can’t tell you

That your smile is beautiful

That you look amazing in that hat

That I wish I didn’t walk by you that one day

That I wish I didn’t get in my car and not stop

Turn around and tell you that I want to buy you coffee

Serve and pull the espresso

Give you my java dreams, and

Maybe, just maybe

after a few beans

you and I can grind on, until our multi-cultural

sips mix into one single origin, of fair-traded

expansion in consciousness



Are what you hear


Are what construct my ear



the life of a fly, oh me, oh my

i sigh as i see how high i fly

so blue, so nigh, that great big sky

buzz buzz, fly fly, the life of a (SLAP)


I make haste to the waste

blue black and green

flies will not deny the taste

wrapped trash is mean

that’s why I like compost

heaps of (SLAP)


why don’t flies take a break and

stop flying, stop lying to themselves

they need to be on someone or something

else, the only way flies ever stay still

is if you smash em


I wish it would be the hour of 8am


never worry the sun will ascend beyond the mid window shine


always smell the cool night air with the warmed rays of oxygen

you feet

remain tucked cozy between two comforters and sheets

the pillow

pushed into my head and conformed to my nose, cheek and hair


making angular rays of light the parallelograms of alarm clocks


the suspended, un timed visit of the infinite hour, rolled right to left


table which holds charging phone, unawake, glass of bubbled, overnight


I just want it to be 8:48, the moment i wake, for the rest of the day,


my daydream can go on, so the birds keep singing, so the prospect

of a day full ahead, never goes away, so I can always feel

that moment

incubated, pre-conscious, suspension in astral dénouement

of ideas and feelings wrapped up like a burrito, I can have anything

for breakfast, I’m so grateful and fortunate to be alive and breathing,

I love this feeling

that moment,

when your dreams can be recalled and still make sense

that moment

when one car peacefully drives down your street

that moment

as the curtains heat up because the earth is turning

but suddenly the earth halts, the rotation stopped, your position fixed

plane passengers see the clouds jump and reload, the ocean tide skip

a wave and the surfers fly off their boards, hit the sand

a bird lands on your open window sill, scratching the peeled wood

it fidgets and hops twice, first to the right while its head turns left, peering

into the closet, and next to the left so its right eye sees you, the squawk

before it flies deafens your telephone ears, a busy signal, your bed becomes

a nest, the bird now 10 X larger breaks the window in one swoop and lands

home, pecking your ears

busy signal

you can barely make out a vibration

its not the nest, its not her huge digestive track hovering over you, waiting for



you wonder how crabs and crustaceans survive the birds eye attacks

how fortunate your hands are now claws, snap snap, the bird hops around,

it’s the middleweight versus the featherweight championship match of the world


my bedside table skirmishing around the hardwood floor

now that my phone is awake, I’ve snoozed beyond 9:30

you ask would I still want to battle the bird with my crab claws

suddenly wake, and fall back onto left side DMT comedown while it remains

the hour of 8am, forever?

Yes, so goodnight!


His headphones were too heavy

So when he left them, right speaker pressed against the return button of his computer

He had no idea the pages and pages of genius they were writing while HE was hitting the head

a set of hands his too busy upon return to notice

Where his mind will go

Limbs running on insane frequencies

To guide the eyes gently to the delete button


An iPad in one hand, his iPhone in the left

Update this post, and filter that shit, cool

He scrolls over the computer filled with new pages in his word document--unnoticed

How many tables do you need to take up in this small pig themed coffee shop to let everyone see you are a genius?

To go cup

Wrapped in plastic

With a disposable, planned hipster-lescence


All this marketable, gullible brainstorming written in invisible ink on the glossy finger printed screen infront of him

All these reflexive meanderings of the constant coming of age with the ages

Trapped in the return button being pressed

These unwritten, just now spoken ideas on our extendable wall socket existence

Were written, right infront of him, by chaotic randomness of gravity, the headphones listening to the artificial sentience that we humans give our computerized companions

All written in a mass of blank looking pages, by a pair of headphones, listening to the distractions propagated unto man

Who finally sees the strange page count (50? I only need 20)

And doesn't think twice, selects and deletes





Day after day, tides, my mind

Oscillate the shore

Supernumerary jet fuel


exuding fantastic voyager punk

While language drought

fills water bottles


Flapping along the waves

pelican viewpoint of floating mass

Is the land, ahead,

An island?


The air has a sweet taste

A first few days of summer, back of the throat twang

Like water after a hangover

It hits our nostrils, and all senses are firing

The heat

Creeps through the windows

In stale leaf blower air

Ocean setting and bikini bod mentality

All my friends gather and hug

Smiles fly like the seagulls over head

Beads of salt patch themselves on my olive skin

A tasty beverage filled with sunshine through colored glass

Warm air permeates and evaporated

Drips of memory

Bags of recyclables


LA is a gray mâché
Indistinguishable mass of matter
Congealing the products of waste and industry into sea and air,
The land is tattooed in tires and cement, plastic drives tin and combusting left laners will not pass a motion to reconsider the glitter and litter of the 72 suburbs syndrome from the commotion of the 1st state’s lunch date with destiny and change