it's all about finding your people

chunky cable-knit sweaters are scary

big, fat stitches of restrictive fabric

weighing on you like last nights lo mein

sleep it off,

wake up in a thin striped cotton tee

with moth holes at the collar and frayed sleeves, 

seams broken, but doesn't seem broken.

comfort over fashion

but fashionably comfortable

'look at her, isn't she adorable'

finally able to adore herself

a split second

with her people

and then it's gone.

together

fall to the ground

leaves and people

rustling in the grass on crisp colorful pillows

pumpkins heavy sitting on cornfields and scarecrows

straw, hay, chapped lips and static

pie crust, the steam from hot apple sider

thawing the ends of noses

eyes tear, blink 

but don't cry

because tomorrow the first snowflake falls

and fall falls to the ground 

with flakes and frost

a new feeling.

resonate in rivers

use things

use people

as distractions

use places

as escapes

from anything we don't feel like feeling like doing

do not use the verb do

do not use the noun things

specificity connects person to person

let's see if this is understandable 

song sings through wires into ear

that says

i change today

just from sounds that resonate

pen to the thin lines

spew life

scribble love

say anything

remember me?

videos capture a life lived

and playing ended lives

should spark-

it's weird.

strange and peculiar is also curious

when just taking what you remember

and what you see

and how you feel

merging into an eclectic combination of

see?

make a magnetic memo somewhere like montana

the magnetic memo

on the refrigerator

reads smooth as glass

it says

control is a feeling that is part of a mood

and when feelings change as moods do, control is compromised

what happens when you

relinquish control and close your eyes?

write without lines on the paper

dance without expectations for grace

walk without shoes on your feet

and love without the fear of losing self.

these were magnetic memos on the fridge at the kelly writers house

mine:

where secret was brilliant 

like a winter cup of coffee & talk   slowed

theirs:

were thine raw like a question

inspire is road

frantic spark after his naked cry

open season

they forget morning aches pounding

pull the live stream chanting 

perfume moon water 

the recall ache

they say it all the time, you know

it's time to start doing things for yourself

self, self, selfish,

be selfish.

i need to be more selfish.

self, self, selfless,

be selfless.

i need to be more selfless.

dear self,

did it rain? 

love, self.

love self.

love yourself.

it's all you really have

to yourself.

uno.

there is still just one

follower

one moon

a single second of heat

the moment it changes

that happens just once

i still have one

feeling 

one intimation

a single doubt of consequence

the moment with tomorrow

that will happen just once

and still just one

day

one time

a single space of happening

the moment that moves

only once.

high fructose corn syrup

sugar stars

and a dark chocolate sky

with a coconut moon

oh what a sweet night

cigarettes and chocolate milk

caramel and cobblestone

strawberry fields

syrup in the streets

lying in glazed grass

eyes glazed over

staring into madness.

play in a box on the ground

to have no fear of

walking barefoot on asphalt 

heels in hand

bag over shoulder

shades over bright eyes that

glisten with the water at the edge of the pier

stepping on small stones

remembering milestones 

recall collecting round stones 

to fill dress pockets with to weigh down my side of the see-saw

at Tallman park

those swings seemed smaller then

when

i was smaller, too.

i still have small feet

big dreams

bright eyes

and the swings still carry me into the air 

just as high as before but this time i understand why it feels so right

to fly

because we do it all the time.

i think this conversation would be appropriate

' she ain't no fuckin' e.e. cummings. '

' oh? '

' no. '

' oh. '

' yeah. '

we have become accountable at our assigned positions

you want to know why

winter is so damn magical

well

think of

the smell of  c  r  i  s  p

brisk cold air through nostrils

s  e  e    your breath in clouds in front of your nose

so cold you cant feel the tips of your toes

taste the smell of     swissmiss     hot chocolate powder 

and 

really look at a snowflake on your sleeve

i promise you

it looks perfect

because there is no other one quite like it.

it is you

oh, it is you.

just making sure.

words slip off the back of a farm truck like loose strands of hay 

sss through the stack, little rocks make the ride rickety 

but they hold on

and loose strands of hair slip down into her face

and he reaches out with one hand to brush, his fingers like bristles,

the strands out of her eyes when graze eyelashes to hand

butterfly broke the silence

flutter so loud, eyes flutter so loud, hearts flutter so loud

and leaves fall softly to the ground.

i have a follower

i have a follower

her name is cherub

or maybe it was turnip

i cant remember.

she walked in my shadows

and lurked in my dreams

but never creeped me out.

until one day i saw her

pocketing my pencils

packing up my pens

and stealing all my paper.

that's when i realized

oh shit, she can really have it all

because she has time

this doesn't take time

we no longer have time

half the time we're wasting time

and half the time we're spending time

never saving time.

tap tap tap, no time to waste,

turnip or cherub, you can lead now.

look what i found

sometimes you have really inappropriate thoughts about pickles

no, not inappropriate... peculiar

peculiar cucumber

cheese and triscuits

mozzarella string cheese

fasten your seatbelt 

i'm about to dream a car crash

blink twice and then keep talking to make sure you're still alive

no matter what you do

do not

let

anything

touch your heart.