Detergent does not nicotine

Playlists, Poetry

Detergent does not nicotine
but a boy’s hands hold soap
in our stomach’s guts, an eye
for an eye can see, it isn’t
in there with a black and blue
that’s not flirting, for pity, for age
lost and wandering into glass
where there was a open door
taste a welcome with a shame
death fills a room with enemies
who still love one another
keep blaming burning paper
squinting in the wind beams
shining off the hospital window
in your Sunday’s best

Playlist

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Kintsugi Detective

Lyrics, Poetry

https://soundcloud.com/smiththeband/dust-to-dust In last season's leavesWatermelon bits of you are beetle-coveredand evaporating withwing sheathes whisperingdeliver unto us the fuse-lighterThe church basement tip-line is ringing off the hookIf you or anyone you love becomes the victim of a cold case bombingYou may...

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Narcissist

Poetry

I am feeling Onward and multi directionalI am realizing I am painThat sits with the CircleAnd unlearns Mother's teachings mischief? No goblins nowjust orcs with jobs to doand slit-finding knife tang wordsin our Grandfathers' backs my future?In friends' handsLike she...

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Dear Nora Ephron,

Poetry

playlist https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3pwisS4UcCfMAccNm8k5qS?si=2eIvxTg3To2CSd85gm6K8g voice written There is at least one boy who prayed that his wedding would be a misunderstanding interrupted by an obsession but instead found every moment with her as constant and unbelievable as river stones and sea glass...

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It begins to tell at midnight

Poetry

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4b5IJWv9JQJIXwRVs3N7fJ?si=709eccc4b0e04189 If I did anythingI'd do this firstspare the next onethe note would read"imagination is a maladaptation" fingernails in the bone ashburied half of youthe women shudderand move on"let go" whips of memory and attentionmolar sharp but twisted necka drug...

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Top 10 ways to dream hyper-normally in 10 days for no discernible reason

Poetry

1.I am angry in my dreams more than I remember thembut dad turns to look at me like a boy in oneand joy in his eyes is joy in mineI cry until it feels like an orgasmwake up and write...

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all i wanted

Poetry

an air conditioner and sunglasses on Christmasthe winter sun peeling my cheek, I'm squinting atan ad for a lawyer looming above a freeway accidentthe responding officer in a Santa hat we arrive with headaches to dinnerat the last inn across...

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Hungry and New

Poetry, Words

Your heart is a candy barI got for freeI didn’t dress up for HalloweenI just sat on the bathtub with youin the red water waiting for a moment we were already inI think I ate the whole thing there Is...

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YouTubers are idiots like you

Poetry

On general principle, and perhaps skillI cannot take advice from peopleSilhouetted by bare wallsIn empty boxes How are there no coffee-stained post-it notes on suffering patiently?Or crayoned love letters crooked with lip-cornered tongues?Where is that tear-stained polaroid of your mother’s...

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entomologist

Poetry

in a childhood bug bookI keep dog-eared, water-stained hopesthe nighttime silhouettes heavinghands like bricks on my chestthe smell of pineapple rainwhen my wet face stuck to your t-shirt unfurl those back pagesI remember the best kisses likea battery on my...

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People staring at me, but I haven’t spoken yet

Playlists, Poetry

I hate that you have no answers
but I also hate good cops looking for excuses
pour the heavy molasses of my unrequited grief
into your fillable chest
then hang up sweet iron cathartic
fist fight on our tongues

Do you call me to hear them?
in between the waves of repeating myself
a screeching cry cracks apologies
in choking sobs, there they flash,
a little girl, color on all she touched
the little boy with his wheel on the edge

You get what you’re giving yet
You keep staring, I haven’t spoken yet
I can’t unsilence until your inner child
is satisfied with my teeth
cutting your little face
enough to tell the truth from reality

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Prices or Colors

Poetry, Words

When I learned Derrick Bell wrote science fiction, I cried in my car,George Wallace screaming on Color TV 500 armed veterans and 9 black teenagersprobably still alive to vote in 2024 In the shadows of temporarily embarrassed immigrants, were my ancestors bittering,red...

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My Lungs Hurt but I Shouldn’t Stop Typing

Playlists, Poetry

My lungs hurt
but I shouldn’t stop typing
shouldn’t stop asking Them what’s wrong
I couldn’t possibly stop
the “How can I be better?”
I apologize, I meant
“How can I consume every living thing in the universe?”


Many economists and spiritual leaders are now recognizing externalities to growth, such as:
– Death

Me and Perplexity at an impasse


In the night heat of my bedroom, I am dreaming of:
The future explorers finding a cardboard sign
encapsulated in the plastic ocean
blood of The Former Mother,
tilting it up to the phosphorescence to read,
“NOT ON DRUGS
WILL WORK FOR GOOD WATER.”

GenImage of the last stanza

image credit

Hsin Wang | De-Selfing
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THEY are who THEY surrender To

Poetry

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0PNcVkCIHLeKV2eGHG98JV?si=3344fbdea23a4753 Your journey is learning quickly:THEY squint at questions Elders Taught for eonsas Their Eyes widen at The vanishing Horizon of answersto notice Teachings like:do not cut The body or The shall-not-be-namedgloaming in the repetitionswill fold its origami intelligenceinside The...

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I started smoking again

Poetry

without warningI heard her voiceand was afraid. sad and friendly grateful for kept booksbut I ran too late. my mouth, my father's mouthexhale memories at the sunlighttheir evaporating under. tan legs on the dashbut my body twists at the beats...

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Sorry, I’m Busy

Playlists, Poetry

Every pleasurable thing is full of

t r a p s

My jaw between sweat and the carpet to prove
Your peace of mind is possibly at the eye of only one
Sorry, I’m busy, don’t we all

Beg for answers over chewing breakfast,
few know yours, like their own so
Apologize for the smoke in their noses
at 6 and 12 then 6 and 12

Laugh at the consequences of an unearned love
Open your fist for the orphaned keys
They will be the last chance
You get to get the bleeding down
before the next one

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Fuck this

Playlists, Poetry, Words

I wonder about
the knees behind the backs

of the holes in the bodies
in the ash of the wreckage
after an ad for therapy
I am reminded that
I have never left my cats in a war
to escape with what’s left of my life again

I wonder about
the inside of the skull

of a woman in yoga pants
next to a gun on a bridge near my house
The cops asked me to describe each moment
as construction workers spray painted RIP 5/4/2023
while 100 cliff swallows under the bridge
became a spinning cloud of
little did they know

I wonder about
the blood on a cowboy boot

being hosed off an hour after
having said I love you to the owner of it
His body appeared
half crushed and preserved
in a suit and a tie and a coffin
returning to the spot where he died
I met an angel named Titus
who taught me, to learn is to hope

I wonder about
the silhouette of my mother’s body

in the carpet of my childhood home
Among the piles of online deliveries
there was 1 puppy, 2 cats, and a carpet cleaner
1 lived, 2 died, and I rocked in the shower
after 3 gallons of solvent would not remove
the shame of the quiet that settled in between us
after she chose death

I’ve wondered about
taking the exit

before I’d taste the earth again
between my teeth like dentist tools
reminding me that the human right to grief
Is not allowable if the body count
does not climb high enough
to lower the price
or make the news
or kill the witnesses
or reach the deaf ears of God
before the winners become the losers

Some will delay the unknowable with certainty

instead of misunderstanding the language that
Some have not been raped for their wings repeatedly
by the hawk that combusts from thin air for the pitiless chaos of renewal alone
Some will not admit the cancer is systemic
because it was not heard in words they hear
So I propose we pretend to vote
for the human being who speaks the following words:

We either get up for work in the morning or we don’t

Fuck this

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Beliefs

Poetry, Words

Whether a hypothesis or a prayerboth are still a wishfor something to be truethat is not yet provable Baby spider or baby humansquished or bombedthe life hangs on the threadof your unspoken beliefs Ten slides pitched tostakeholders nodding while texting...

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Every time you think, you are avoiding death

Lyrics, Poetry

https://soundcloud.com/smiththeband/this-makes-me-think-every-time?si=7dcea5f68ece400ab286fe5cf286c1d0&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing mama was a painterand dad was a working man's sonmy youtube therapist said I'm a good boy if I get good grades and pay the bills and see myself in mirror naked meditate until I see nothingclean every corner,...

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Love in our hearts with the pain and the memory

Poetry

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/66wvQbe3gFTWZHROS7J1RK?si=454708a55bf6408a what is happening is only happening Again, Spring tramples the slurry of death like a white warhorse's blood-caked haunches pounding fertile earth cracking and spurting the green orgasm of intentional chaos into forgetting the memory of decay. Unlike where...

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Some melodrama does not change

Playlists, Poetry, Words

it ends without ending with an ending

You cannot sleep without wet matches
You cannot speak without candle wax
You cannot mirror without a bright flame
You cannot love me without firewalking

You allowed me to burn the past too desperately
even though I am down to coals

You removed the pans quietly and scraped me up so slowly
even though I am down to coals

You wrestled with the breath that put me out possibly
even though I am down to coals

You stoked another coven fire carefully
even though I am down to coals

You cleaned my broken skull lovingly
even though I am down to coals

You wet the ash under your eyes tearfully
even though I am down to coals

You are renewed and green beautifully
even though I am down to coals

You attempted flicker and shifting ineptly
even though you are a forest growing salaciously
and I am down to coals

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debt

Poetry

you owe a debt of love to everyone, even the nameless beings who wake at dawn to facilitate clean, endless water. You can pay it back, or agree to suffer a perforated solitude.

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Be a fucking man about it

Poetry

Regardless of anything you hear  You remain a man  And in your ears you hear the words  We must test you to limits to see how much we must love you But how many do you know  Who have not...

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I can only fall in love with wings

Playlists, Poetry

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nice_guy

I can only fall in love with wings
flashing between the pews of a funeral,
divorced from keepers,
testing a scab against The Ward’s lightbulbs,
call shy at a shotgun wedding,
unwelcome awe in the rafters,

I volunteer to handle them,
throbbing with fear tapping the glass casing,
what if there is not even a single poetried music in still air,
or rest from the fear of unrelenting madness?
There is wonder in preening missing feathers,
where tattoos glisten mistakes like sweater sleaves did

in bed within them,
no threat, my sweet, ghostly company
I learned the peripheral shadow kept in careful vision
pet like an animal, if I was one
my mind trained on the chestpin released,
wasting no time to leave with the breath of fear
underwing like the lamentations of the mama
preferring caged songs to grieving bodies

Can I become a thing that flies?
remove the liminal body taught to me
by survivors of survivors of survivors?
Is it resilience that comes with a map of the heart?
Or the potential memory of violence that genders us?
yet still I am more like the wind I was before I knew them well.

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the rain in your bathrobes

Poetry

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/50xU5R954ABcTC73Z38ck2?si=defbc27500b14c6d the unsheltered shuffle namelessa spider twitches a web in the corner of your bedroommemories run like rabbits with pocket watches for all of you, the rain in your bathrobes a face of a loved onewakes you in the darknesswhile...

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Enough about me though

Poetry

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4bOK2BPJOSfxHCDarb8R0Y?si=73779b61873f43e2 I'm afraid to let you inwithout a contract binding agreementI want you to stop moving my furnitureI know that makes me afraid of changejust like the abusers you used to date I'm afraid to let you gowithout a dinner...

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Nobody knows what you must do

Poetry

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6X0hevsFLPAGJzkTAdoiUV?si=b247d750b0b143a1 Nobody knows what you must doNot even the dogs who settle for crumbs know what you must doSome benefit from your loss, Others are left behind teddy bears One cracks the edge of a wine glass with their teethAnother...

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A wound will always seem to find you, an answer is coming.

Playlists, Poetry

My princes,
My boyhood friends,
Do you still remember the sun sickness in the pit of our empty stomachs?

The frozen vegetables cooling our wounds,
while we watched the final summer sunsets
outline our tree house kingdoms shadowing
bruised hips with a kiss of the headache cool water
fountain bubbling across our squinting.

The crown now pulls stunning violence across my eyelids,
and the headmaster rips my palms
pouring diamonds into the orchestra pit
where a first chair violinist evaporates in the beams of the limelight.

As curtains break, as crowds sigh,
an untied burning upwards smolders
roofs of an empty home against the midnight sky
where blood stuck hair and half closed eyes
tilt and wonder why there was no warning.

A wound will always seem to find you,
an answer is coming,
like a voice calling from home,
when your feeling so far away.

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green shall spread over all

Poetry

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wHkYVvCck9I But green is the color of earth, of living things, of life. And of rot. We deck our halls with it and dye our linens. But should it come creeping up the cobbles, we scrub it out, fast as...

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Missing the Family for the Trees

Poetry

Poisoned or fertileThe roots are permanent Great-grandmother handed GrandmotherHer first of many ValiumBoth of them point out the most beautiful cloudsin the middle of conversations When the speed of things wears me down,I desire euphoria and cry at the site...

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in the wake of death, you swung high

Playlists, Poetry

Wedding dress threads sewn carpet books in childrens’ shoe boxes stacked where now 83% of your practicing dissassociating is landfill photography.

Is there no drug to erase the euphoria of a 5th grade swingset where in the wake of death, you swung high and relearned every pinhole camera moment you felt small kisses on sudden cuts.

A tone of sorrow drones like a refrigerator fan that never remembers that dreamed voices are dreamed voices, numb heartache on a full moon to the next moon, grief is a cycle, hon.

Crack open the carcass of your childhood home and find the object you were trying to forget. That’s the price of a vacation from pity.

Please and thank you, we are so sorry for your bless you loss, merry xmas. They were so young.

Wedding dress threads sewn carpet books in childrens’ shoe boxes stacked where now 83% of your practicing dissassociating is landfill photography. Is there no drug to erase the euphoria of a 5th grade swingset where in the wake of death, you swung high and relearned every pinhole camera moment
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Mother’s Child

Lyrics, Playlists, Poetry

Are you ok
It must be hard on you
Pouring the ashes for two

But I am my mother’s
mother’s mother’s child
Bearing the weight is the proof

That my love goes as far as the moon
And If I’m dying I’ll die like a coon dog
Go out with style and grace
Or die from the grief of a
Loss of the trust of the master

How ya doing
When are you coming back
Just checking in on your mental health

Oh I am my mother’s
mother’s mother’s child
Hard work’s always the cure for the blues

Oh my idle hands are devil’s tools
I won’t loosen my grip on the lives we could lose if we
filled up our closets with
Uniformed skeletons who
Played by the rules of the master


peripheral darknesses; in the right corner of my eye a tear of ethanol, long distance phone calls from purgatory, the fear in your voice with my hand on your slipping pulse, you came so far just to get here. I am my mother’s mother’s mother’s child and I am witness the permanence of shame

putting it together
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Stop it, now you’re just trying to make you cry

Poetry

undoing nothing, memories from midnight to 4am, sunshine through golden hair, out of the tree and into the birthday cake, sing psalms to a frightened child, touch the softest part of your hand to his brow; stop it, now you're...

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I’ll take the house fire, please

Playlists, Poetry

grip the leftover skin and pull, separate the tongue with doubt and bite, blood sugar in the gaps of teeth, swish with ocean brine, disrupt the despair with a careful smile, will not do anything without a drug of choice, otherwise four blank walls anticipating a house fire.

codependency and love and trauma and ultimatums and tropes and sex and regret. Alternates between recent pop songs and 40s-60s pop songs.
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Ignaz Semmelweis’s Lament

Poetry

In Sciens, Nemo NocereWe, the Guides and ExplorersWe, the Healers and View-changersOur timeless assembly of Professors and Prophets We, the Witches and Heretics We, the Charlatans and Truth-tellersWe stand, foot to shoulder, free of the burdens of our discoveries From towers...

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How to Quit Your Job and Enjoy It

Poetry

Before I was barreling through the tunneltighter, faster, more death and frictionfear and fear and fearflying past the flashing lights and screaming sirenshyper focused on every shot, evading every ripostethe voices of power droning in my earpiece"Abandon Ship""Stay the Course""It's...

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I keep having the same daydreams

Poetry

Misunderstanding the futureforgo your disbelief in the possibility of eating the pieDo not tempt her with any farthing-like sensibilityGet over yourself, you confused soul. Authenticity is the only thing that sells anymoreThere's not even a market for picking a sideConvince...

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Incarcerated in a question mark

Playlists, Poetry

Cover your corrupt voice from other’s mouths
Define your only friend
Miss your missed opportunities
Ambiguous loss

Infinite heirarchy
nuance and explicit
Context and immediate concern
I am unhappy with who you’ve grown into

Divorce your inequities
Thumb your anxiety
Blacken your markets
Sacrilegious security

Sell your many faces
Eat your peace
Rent your feet
Inauspicious bootstraps

Consider spite in the crow’s feet of your death mask
Be silent for the unnamed graves next to your own
Incarcerated in a question mark
You apes in gilded cages, sing

some are obsessed with being a hypocrite since others cannot bear to be called ignorant, incarcerated in a question mark, I am an agoraphobic ape on a blue dot.
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A Madman with a Box Describes His Companion by Means of Shades of Time

Poetry, Words

At times, my lover is an artist who doesn’t grasp she is an artist She is abstruse and indistinct but to me, at times, she is concrete At eras, she is the lone sunflower, reaching past the others, arching in...

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