we lie beneath
oh, so much
the steel gray
dreamclouds

the torrential rivers
of lifewater
and fastgrowing
tadpoles

and beneath this
beneathness
who am i?
who are we?

Rather than hounding me
for writing "his"
instead of the much more respectable
"his or her,"

why not work
for a more practical goal--

get people to start calling Philly
The City of Siblingy Love?

No baby has even been
articulate enough
to confirm my conjecture,

but I suspect that,
when they cut the umbilical cord,
it hurts like f***ing hell.

here we are, fighting again ( Read more... )

mommy said she didnt like the wall
down town

i dont like it either
i said

but mommy just said
that its an ugly color

and it needs a new
cote of paint

thats not why i dont like it
because

i dont like it cause
its for keeping pepol out

and i dont like when
pepol do that cause its mean.

you would laugh freely
at some one-liner i told
even if it was stupid

and you used to stargaze with me
looking beyond the sky

we would flap our wings
and soar together; a pair

you have always been
made of beautifragileful porcelain
with a ballerina's stride

and now i am curious
where you are headed

storm clouds
clock ticking
deep breaths

wild imaginings
knuckle cracking
still waiting

speaking words
hearing none
focus now

i love you
so here we go

we're always removed
for some sickening reason

six inches between us
becoming miles
lightyears

my thought merry-go-round
revolves around you
turnspintwirlturnspintwirl
roundaroundaround

then my heart vomits
between turnspintwirling
and lovesickness

find me out here
in the sandy wilderness
and meet me now

it's a world of yous
of storms
of fingered guitars
and lullabies which offer
little comfort

words are too fickle
choosing to remain vague
they're desolate some days

i can't connect
to all you yous

can't cross the chasm
to the place where
(i imagine)
there is but one spirit
and one heart beating
so lovedly

( Read more... )