Designs of Delivery

He'd hold her
while she slept,
she'd never know.
He'd kiss her in hopes
her dreams would kiss her too.

He supposed what he felt
was something childish,
but maybe on some other level,
it was something more.

Yeah, I'm sure it's something more.

Practice Day a Poem

We meant nothing by it
we shook hands,
that was that.

I was certain that I cried,
blurring my vision.
I watched you walk on and on,
constantly reassuring myself.

You were right.
It hurt like hell
and kept me up all night.
You were right.

Pavement Loop on the Behance Network

Books!
Brilliant stacks!
Endless pages!
Depictions and pronouns!
Prose and motifs!

One stretched out sweater
to accompany a lamp.
Glasses and my unlimited fixations.

Why hide?
When with you,
I can turn around.
I can give birth to the idea
the lead to my reciting.

But what we do is secret
(saving 55 people) at a time.
Brought bikes to cut our knees,
Our fingers break the inevitable fall.

The physics behind a punch,
the punch behind physics.

Day 7 or 6

Tell Madison it was all necessary.
Her flat never told anyone.
It kept her secrets,
Along with keeping her.
It anticipated her arrival
And the flowers that would join her.

Tell Alexandria that I could've.
I was busy with big sky reflections,
She should've seen the sand.

A guess we should have;
I found the quiet place in the country,
Letting out smoke.
Shouting threats to the passer bys.

Freeman, Montana.

"Throw on your sunday's best
and make me proud."

It seemed to flow
from her palm
and fingertips.
Reciting it as though it were-

Brothers bucking
and sacrificial cars,
mothers in the streets
and the heart's third chamber.
Parallels and verticals.

Vertigo.

But does it float?

I'm awake still, don't say goodnight.

Life on their backs
and warm greetings via hand.
Body warm and blue,
lips as red as stone.
The sheep that flocks,
to the wolf that never strays.

Sleeping bags and glazed eyes.
She'll turn away from a bleeding gun

You used to be alright. What happened?

Paved

Reasons for why I'm returning.
Reasons why I left.
I blame it on a path.
I blame it on logic.
I blame it on my shoes.
I blame it on the gun
that pulled an unforgiving trigger.
I blame it on birds.
I blame it on the ocean.
I blame it on little kids.
I blame it on my mother.
I blame it on my friends,
they knew best.

I guess I blame me.