a field guide to fuck off to
a character of answers
it's over for me just keep going on and shake ya head loose, all this time easing into the truth
counting, lost and all in, i'm gone
patch yourself over and put in the work, find yourself breathing into the dirt
i won't be spinning around the sun
it rides on your shoulder when the bird sings only of angel wings and of its own worth
i won't be falling into your arms
kiss sweet solid nothing, say goodbye through a dream, this home it's only a machine, a body of blood
i won't be waiting too long
life between the light and wall
running down the secrets of life
just as you risk running out of air, it begins, wide awake
laugh it off in your usual flair
it can be so hard to care in a heightened state
two fistfuls of a bird taking flight
conceived up against the wall they'll say life finds a way
through the shadow puppets in the light
it's not just something sung the waters of march are a thing
and through this passage there's a rite
you'll take nothing to declare to the keepers of the gate
and place your wishes at the site
and you'll listen like you can hear but it's silent's peak
walking off the pains of a life
off into nothing's thrall or some kind of outer space
as if it's all to point and stare
at life between the light and wall in some kind of heightened state
flowers of where gates grew
out of an f hole into an a hole
waiting out the storm, the heat and cicadas
digging through the gap, collecting the traps
exploits of the heart, strangers for money
honest perfume soaked a dynamite fuse
the star crackling sky lined it and my point of view
while i sucked and suffocated drinking the juice
through a smile diluted with visions of the truth
i timestamped and rated it against the maps that they drew
i took sharpened blades to flowers of where gates grew
the distance was weighed in, i reached for my hands what to do
holding my virtue, do you believe in love too?
w/ the intent of the wind or at least of the branches swayed
coming down from the end into town from the mountain
oh, how i crave and i crave for the surface
as if i've been saving all my breath for a ticket
working out present intentions, breaking out from past apprehensions
oh, how i rave and i rave for a purpose
to give my sanctity to the service
surrounding found shaking and lucid, its floating weight relieving the curtain
if this the way to get back to the circus
of what it's about i'd rather not debate this
running proud afraid of the nerves and shaking off the loose ends uncertain
and this the dream where all of us make it
the evening out, the mystery awakened
wins + free spins
growing out of your kink into fall colours
everything's ok until
the secret paranoid state of dilemma
the bowl outweighs the carrier's will
the landscape is losing its power daily
and the path to truth through beauty is hell
bad knees and cardiovascular disease
i'm getting fucked up for nothing
in a bad dream diving head first under the covers
don't let the fears stop the flow of tears
there's a hole in the floor that's the rhythm
a wide open escape for an excuse
getting so high it's like getting away w/ murder
w/out a body for anyone to search
a place of good where i go to throw away my evil
a place where my coat is always hung
a brighter sun than ever, the caveat, a ceiling
where every little feeling is one
out of the woods back to the beginning
everything's ok until
anyone can't ever tell you anything anymore
my joke fucked up, my touch too much
in so far as you're never going to laugh this all off
my words misspoke, my look exposed
anyone can't ever tell you anything anymore
it's lost, it's mustered up, fucked off
it's clear through fear we're tripping on pheromones to nowhere
now it's on, the always broken lock
it's so you'll know you can't even tell if it's ever off
hope
i've given it all my money and all my time
i've pissed away my liberty and all my fight
to corner down the right degrees of its upside
the things you have to say to please the light
i've said it all or so it seems in the middle of the night
careful not to let it dream and take off in flight
i swore i wouldn't let it breathe or out of my sight
to build up all my energy through its life
as if all the countless meddling would ignite
something sort of like a flame in my eyes
all the while singing wild “hope's a thing fine”
but looking around and nothing's found
and that was all right
how can you be so sure
discarded or disfigured it's brought here in your mold
it's not light to be so broken in an image cast in bones
through embittered homes out a hunter's poem w/ an arcane fist self imposed
you have chosen
the part of you that givers in exactly how it's told
it's the endless tales that litter past your parchments promised folds
in ink of gold it is woken up in pain and in person
it is known
there's hardly time to figure what anybody knows
it's a kind of you to throw me on the coals here i'm still coming
supposing i'm alone and a bumping brumpumpumpump
i'm stomping on the coals
though hardly praise is nothing enough's already sold
it's mine to deliver with the soul and my one joke
and my river stones i'm holding in my pockets breaking my back
forever
fields of vision
patriots throwing rocks at the sun
the last killers fucking w/ the gods
like little kids throwing rocks at frogs
at institutions like getting fucked up at the swamp
w/ excessive dreams of selling out the farm
at institutions like cabaret in a bar
it's spilling through a seat and onto something hard
in agreed on pictures of a lost cause
starting from one phase of sorting out the frauds
into another, it's a phrase about the virtue of their poetry
into a gun, the only one left listening
after all is fought and done, they'll leave the world whistling
i thought you'd find it funny
it's fine to kill it, a divine feeling
it's fine to feel it, a divine killing
it's found in filming, its upside steel
inside it's reeling and also, it too is killed
in often lines, these lines for rest
these apotheoses, it's lines for often plenty
but whether ashes or a name carved in some mind
below the ceiling in all tellings of time
the hand is steady, a stone on a photo of mine
and if it's letting, i too will get in line
wholly
cartoon figures shrouded in doom summoned through chanting and dancing to tunes,
freaking out in the middle of the night
the whiskey shakes and a hole in my head come sunday night i'm on a roll again,
believing in the beauty of the light
validating depression w/ success it's such a fucking mess,
the serious lengths to which we're all due
say goodbye to the saint lawrence river
past the tree line, past the horizon
i can't see ya, i can't see ya
beyond the lakes across the country tired
outside of my time, outside of my life
i can't feel ya, i can't feel ya
w/out your power i'm losing my mind
fasting sunshine, the sky painted and wide
if i can't see ya, if i can't see ya
light a candle give in to the moonlit night
estuary tongue tied, the silence, the sign
i can't speak to ya, i can't speak to ya
out of the dark, straight into the tainted light
closing these eyes of marking this mind
the bells have rung for ya, the shipyard sings to ya
say goodbye to the saint lawrence river
it's enough that it's beyond us
going insane about money, a pittance of a body in taxes
for wearing the suit that protects enigmatic tats
for polishing boots that pretend to be roots to the past
the never ending act
we're witness to a promise protecting the reason you're always remaining
to be seen in a field w/ a flower, a fire, or in water
a subjugation of self, a collection of scores of your iq
in happiness and sadness
and travelling parallel, drifting in time as the living and breathing
negatively meditating, posing as a flower
instead of separating from self, empty of all your power
delusion and this madness
so i lost it on paper happily through fits of your vision and conditions exacting
actively disengaged, smelling for death across the island
entitlement to land is a curse in a moment of silence
and i'm never coming back