These are the words.

Wedding Party

These days when I try to blister clearly under streetlights in the dark, riding taxis through the Autumn sun into a forgotten park where I cut apart the feathers just to hear the lazy sounds of the machinery in your throat, it goes quiet then resounds.
I slept in all Saturday, thinking about lakes, tracing and retracing the sudden opaque outline of your spine in the sheets from the night before the spiders and traffic lights.
Time is a fickle romance in my hands, and love is a memory left in Japan.
Another wedding and I will soon be dead. Another movie soundtrack to clear my head. Another sentence fails I decompose even if we end and begin with 'propose'.

Pills Pills Pills

History and time wrapped around your eyes.
Bleeding blue appliance - watch as the insulation rots.
She was nothing. She is everything.
She is nothing, and I stop.
The tape recorder is set to 10.
You take the pills and try again to picture yourself
in a sweater from the working little pictures
in the corner of your office desk,
missing me and hoping to death
that I am missing you to.
I was afraid. I was betrayed, but you wouldn't stay.
I locked the door, held my breath, and prayed.

Song for Dead Cats

First, there was the look on your face
in the apartment where we lay.
The parking lots and stop signs looked pretty bleak,
and I loved you that day.
I am coward, dear, but you've been here 17 years,
and all you are is chemicals and meat, and
all those pretty elements I've seen.
I've seen it all.
We are nothing now.
We were never anything.

Zeugmatic

I'm surrounded, broken down, and
where is the storm?
Seven bodies, seven faces, seven times before.
I even tried to pray (each night and sometimes day)
for a sign that you would see me cutting grass near the lake. We could drive on singing some stupid blurry song.
We could drive along until infinity proved us wrong.
In dreams, I lie to her beside her and feel a little better.
Every time we go to the sail setting, I want to tell you I'm a sailor and I know this is the way things go. Out of reach we saw the sea. Oh oh oh.

Vision of Autonomy

Apathy and sympathy, they sound pretty good to me.
Rampant simplicity overwhelms me in the grocery.
My father and his family are father than they used to be.
I used to think autonomy would slowly be the death of me.
Once, a long time ago, I heard a song I swore I knew. I followed it along the ocean's mantle into solid snow.
My frail frame cracked apart.
I bled from my bleeding heart.
I am lost. I am accosted every morning with these
thoughts and visions and revisions,
all these lesions on the seafloor, all these specters
all these spirits, all these people in their cars and in bars.
I put a little trust in you, it didn't go far.

California, Kentucky

My therapist told me to calm down,
to come down from the clouds and
taste the earth and strangle pets in my sleep.
We left the leaves on the grass, felt wet dirt at last.
My name faded first. The lipstick was not hers.
So I died a little inside a little life.
I tore the eyes.
Leave on the lights when you don't come home.

Paradigm Shuffle

Darling, it's been a long time
since we've went sailing together,
but I'm feeling that the weather
will cooperate today. Hey.
I guess I've missed you,
and I've been sitting on the windowsill
waiting for some lightning to strike the wake.
You are acceleration, and
I'm just stationary.
Let's be dead and leave it in our heads.
Let's be kids, just two kids following some wind.
Let's just lie awake and watch the stars all break.

Farewell, Ms. Universe

I said goodbye in a postcard.
It was a long drive back home.
I often thought of you
when I was out at sea.
I often read saw what you'd wrote.
Another year, another week, another month
and maybe we'll speak, but probably not.
Aaaa.
Everything you've done just seemed like fun;
I am fucked I am gone I am lost you are something else.
I don't know what to do so I sit around.
I've seen it all.