POEM A DAY 2019

After Haiku

blown out by the wind
displaced tropical birds sing
to find their way home

too tired for rain

i am tired for days
and there's rain
the best weather
for when you're not supposed to be sleeping
and really really
want to

It Could Have Been Me

Self-regard,
yeah, in the octagon,
with self-loathing,
settle it
with the world all around
roaring for a winner,
it doesn't know who.
Self-regard, with no
other regard,
and the nerve tree jangles,
branches bow,
they can't be cut back,
a boss stretched out
in 16 bits,
ending.
I was full of hate, then,
but it was so unfocused,
pointless without reasons,
groundless without solutions.
I was so lucky, then,
just to hate with purity,
that negated precision,
reasonless, unresolved,
with no need,
and now what has it become?
A pebble that I clutch,
that draws purple to the
rings of my eyes.
Just look how the others turned out,
my god, it could have been me.

portals i traversed today

portal of being held upside down
portal of crying while witnessing acrobatics
portal of wind and cold
portal of a singing bouncy castle
portal of omphalakeptic whiteness
portal of the bartender's labrys tattoo
portal of two whiskey drinks
portal of crying on the kitchen floor
portal of purple lipstick
portal of my vibrator
portal of thirst
this portal: HELLO!