electric evangelist
sending paper airplanes on sparks and wires you’re on the same side of a different coin a flip that gravity claims you call heads as it thuds in the mud slung fat jackal irrational practical you should try to have the unshakable faith of a paranoid hypochondriac and the tongue of Jack Kerouac you fidget with the truth if you ever knew it yeah, you blew it your charisma ecstatic static burns down chapels makes man wanna eat the apple your plague of fumes they fucking arc art paints your christ with a trademark but you send the charge that flashes blind the corroding terminals of all mankind lied and what a shock nobody waits nobody rises no body waves like the starr’ed flag in the sky we commune in grounded gavels electric evangelist please arise.

Chew it Slow
We’ve all got a lot on our plate
Typical American gluttony
Swallowing time like cheeseburgers
Every serving, a heap too big
To go right back and fill it up again
Shovel it in.
Go here, do that, volunteer, cheer, soccer, career
We can’t afford to sip the drive-thru latte slow
GO!
“Serve us seconds of wind so we can go again, again again.”
It’s the 5k we’ll never win,
(someone forgot to tell us there is no end)
Viagra, super-size me peckers,
4 hour erectors,
it ain’t no good ‘less it’s a marathon
Unwanted commitments are stacked buffet high,
and washed down with half-assed accolades.
We’ve all bitten off more than we can chew,
and we will choke on the ambition.
Me? I want to relish each taste of each minute
slowly quenching my soul;
every morsel of every millisecond dissolving on my tongue.
I want to feel the wind blow through my hair
and pause long enough to ponder what it means.
If you can’t taste it, you’ll never be satisfied
If you can’t pace it, you’ll never savor life
If you run the rat race,
at the end, you will find
somebody moved your cheese.

Geriatress
bound in this thick pulp
lumbering, laboring through this mill
grinding, shaving down
paper thin
remold, reshape me
into something useful
I am no sequoia
reconstituted
but a disposable particle, bored
reincarnated, someday to something useful
my timber gone
a missing tooth in groves, green
my grizzly bones
bound in this pulp
bound in bark
withered
disintegrating
pecked
my canopy, sun-baked
dry
leafless and ready for the first cut

The Present
There’s no time like the present
the present is a gift
it’s the gift that keeps on giving
the gift is living
open it up
play with it
until it bores you
’cause tomorrow there’s more for you
keep breathing and there’s more in store for you

Well Kept
I will keep my mouth closed
so that when I finally open it to speak
my breath will be warm
and not cold and bitter
I will keep my mind open
so that when I finally share it
it will be free
and not merely bound by my own perception
I will keep my heart open
so that when it finally feels
it will have braved the worst
and be ready to discern real love
I will keep my legs closed
so that when I finally fuck
my depths will be clean
and unchapped
I will keep my hand open
so that it may give freely
and take without asking
and slap when I am solicited by the one
whose legs and mouth are open
and heart and mind are closed.
Warm words do not work for those.

Your Muffled Mistress
