One

Wasted synapses
Scratched like a stuck record on
Old mendacity

The. Dead. Wait.

One hand clasped futilely to a wrist
As the familiar below fades
Into the icy deep black of aging memory

Let go, turn back from the dark
The journey has only begun, but already
I dream of breaking the surace, breath deep the salt
To watch a decade of fury set behind

The briny waves which push the tears back in as
I continue to exist
This is what I get to do

Edge case

Who sets the boundaries where the land meets the ocean?
Is it the water, saying
Cross this line and you will get wet
Or is it the sand, containing and crying
Higher then this and you’ll evaporate
Becoming part of that cycle
Elementary school science teachers know
You’ve forgotten about
Until reminded
By some stupid poem

Imagine if the sea and the sand decided to part ways
Who would get custody of the tourists
Fascinated, as are we all, by change
There’s no solution where the land would move inland
The water would need to become all cloud and vapor
Calamity we’ve already begun
As economics twists the knife
Already in our own backs
The idea of killing too alluring to ignore
Even if it is ourselves

Investigate the concept of touching
Taken to it’s logical conclusion
Electron shells repelling like charges
And now the air wearies of carrying the burden of the water
Is there gloom if there’s nobody to feel?
Watch as the light from billions of years away
Stops
Captured by your cornea
Isn’t this nice, you say, watching the stars over the waves
But we’re no longer there
As if we never were

The bringing of the time and the taking of the time
Each distant orb a mirror of us all
As we reflect
On how each light will burn out
One by one
As they reflect
The blink of an eye
Trapped between two eternities
Of silence

Today’s million dollar idea:

a machine that induces fake labor so that women who use a surrogate can know the sensation/pain of childbirth. It must be called “the contraction contraption”

I was today years old…

…when I realized that sip and piss, being opposites for fluid intake and output, are almost palindromes

No need to thank me!

Edit: while swimming laps, my brain informed me that by putting the extra ‘s’ in the middle, it becomes an actual palindrome: “pisssip.”

Okay, NOW you can thank me.

I don’t see pisssip becoming a useful neologism, unless the concept of a “shower beer” expands to include “a can on the can.”

This impossible ear

There’s no Fleishman’s this impossible ear
Gotta bake in the morning to avoid a self-sear
Cooling of the cast iron might just take a year
Hope you like fluffy bread more than fizzy beer

(Apologies to Brendon Urie)

Next!

An unerring beat
Gossamer second hand of
Time chases us all

Figure it the fuck out for yourself

When I wake up I want to be dangerous
Too much revenge on a world of beauty
and joy
and destruction

Every new sin prepaid for
Behind, the narrows with footsteps still clear
The turquoise expanse nears
To fall
Or take flight

The heat and the ashes and the layover
When hope was bright
Fifteen seconds to despair
Which too was ripped
From my heart

At the end I knew in the moment
Don’t ask me how, I will never have that answer
All that is left for me now
Is to become new in the moment
Again

And again

Sisyphean speed bump

Every step away takes the whisper of foam further
Each decisive turn becomes a haunting at 4am
When the dry branches scrape the window, releasing the need for rest

Once a home with music and magic and laughter
Now dodge the echoes, no corner to hide
Comfort, no longer desired, packed neatly behind flaps of cardboard
Until time demands it has decayed into scrap nobody could desire

I watch dispassionately as the fury flies around
Once collapsed in exhaustion, tucked neatly into the ashes
To rouse again and again with every reverberation

Are facts indeed a prison
Wardened by the idea that an empirical best practice
Removes all free will
Leaving only errors for humanity to celebrate

Imagine lying down above his rock, The rock
Will you be crushed by the hope?
Or is it a freeing kindness to embody the futility?

Use that energy to prepare for the future
Which will never again be today

It’s a bass guitar

You just might have to pronounce that differently than your first instinct

Since there are no big waves, it’s obviously tuned to “sea flat.”

Wake up!

I will now take a /goofy bow

Give and take

There’s an inherent paradox I quite enjoyed today in the fact that immediately after getting two vaccines, I had to wander down to the lab to get blood drawn. It’s like the medical version of “Dueling Banjos.”

It was a lot of blood, too – I had to sit there for 10 minutes to fill up all the vials. Another fun parallel: the nurse smacking my arm to get a vein to come up is much like anyone with a non-squeeze, glass bottle of ketchup.

Now that I think back on it, she was probably just hitting me remembering the last time I was there.