the best in the world

sometimes it doesn't feel like family

it's an old sticker book

they've been stuck for so long that they will not come off the waxy paper

just keep looking at the fuzzy ones, the smushy ones, the plain ones, 

the traded ones.

but they're not going anywhere

well, neither is family -

choose A or B

true or false

once you scrape that sticker off it'll no longer have adhesive

reattachment is not an option.

see suns

its a heat that hangs idly

and moments when hearts beat hotly

time slows in the summer

trees stop holding hands with crisp leaves

after foliage arts the highways

colors and apples drop from skies and the air is fresh in fall

cotton balls blanket the streets

and fluffed white pillows and silk sheets

the earth sleeps under winter

birds sing sounds of morning

the first warm day holds the heart in its hands

and flowers peek toward the peak of spring

is there still life in still-life?

she bent her knees and leaned forward, 

scrutinizing his waistline like a seamstress to the fabric on a mannequin.

she clenched his hips in her hands and jerked his waist, 

abruptly, an inch or so to the left and stopped. 

his arms limply followed, first extending out like an opened umbrella,

his torso the handle, 

arms twisting right, then left, while falling closed in one swift motion at his sides.

she nestled her head under his chin

and pressed her cheek into his chest

and crossed his arms over her back

where his hands landed loosely on her hips, graspless.

she waited, standing still, still felt nothing

nothing but an imminent heart beat and before body heat

so she let him let go 

ambi-dex-trous

[-teacher teaches-, student learns]

[student teaches, -teacher learns-]

anyone can do it, right?

-anyone can do it right.

and anyone can do it: write?

-yes, anyone can do it: write.

but only i can write with left, right?

-no.

well only i can write with right and left, right?

-no.

so then i left.

thanks to the trail markers

i can see where i am headed

and it looks like promise, but not like the promise land

and it looks real, but not like the real world

but it feels grand, maybe like the grand canyon, 

or playing grand theft auto, 

or a grand piano - - -

and i want to hike hills and press buttons and stroke keys

to let everyone know that i knew where i was going and i went there,

and look, isn't it grand, isn't it real, isn't it promising? 

look at all the people who followed.

i saw it all on the see saw

i wonder if it would work

if i sat on one side

and you sat on the other,

and although our bodies wouldn't balance right

i am almost sure that

what i harbor in my head

those mistakes, memories, thoughts and things

would compensate for the ample 

physical existence you have over me--

regret is heavy on the conscience,

lost love is heavy on the heart,

and presence weighs more than pounds.

in fact

i believe

i would be the paradox

little girl,

big boy,

and you are the one in the air while i am rightly grounded.

the number game

is it getting better?

because i get about 50 on the highway

and every night you sleep

but aspirations never sleep.

so drive, get back in the global game

it's incredible in and of itself

even if it certainly doesn't feel that way.

to take numbers

t0 s4y th1ng5 1n w0rd5 th4t c0u1d n0rm411y b3 3xpr3553d

take the multiplicative inverse of now

square it, get it out from under the radical

and be, be radical. see it from a different angle.

it's all an algebraic/geometric/personal proof

that doesn't need to be proven

to anyone

but

you.

dreamland

but he was angry and it was scary so i left that room and went across the hall to the other room

and i found uncle stu

and we got really high together

and he suggested we get in the elevator

so we did. 

and as soon as he pressed the button the elevator became a glass elevator in the middle of the bottom of the Palisades Sill where we were surrounded by rocks and mountains and nature on all four sides

and it started going up and up and up and up SOOO HIGH

and then it finally stopped and bumped up and then settled.. as if it got to a floor.. then we looked at eachother, like hahah that was fun and were really high, and then it started to go down faster and faster and i started to get scared so i said 

"is this gonna kill us?"

at first he said "no," with confidence.. but then he stopped himself and thought for a while and realized it would

so he looked at me right in the eyes and said,

"im sorry.. i didnt realize.. im really, really sorry."

and i think, I SHOULD PANIC, but then i stayed REALLY calm, really really calm.. 

like 'okay, we are going to die, i want to think of nothing, clear my mind, meditate,' 

and i am the calmest ive ever felt, ready to face my death, and then the elevator finally hits the ground, the glass shatters and we walk out and away.

e.g. scooters, vacation, fall

she uncapped the poland spring and sipped at the lip of her eco-shape bottle, 30% less plastic, and she stared blankly at the unappetizing freezer-burned baby carrots, cut and peeled and ready to eat! 

her eyes glazed over as the cold escaped the open crisper drawer. 

she kicked it shut and lay down on the kitchen floor, still staring at the fridge's contents.

the cold linoleum tile felt nice against her cheek

her heavy eyelids fluttered then fell shut

with the door. 

she dreamed she stood in front of a giant refrigerator, both doors wide open 

and she wanted celery and carrots.

but all it had was beets.

laces leaves sleep sleeves

when i said i could breathe underwater

i was serious.

my masseuse told me i have swimmers shoulders,

but it took me 6 years to pass my deep water test

because i can breathe underwater

and no one believed me.

but i was serious when i said it

or maybe i dreamed it

but it's becoming awfully difficult to distinguish a difference between dreams and reality

because i wake up and remember exactly how i felt, the same way i remember how it felt

to breathe underwater that time...

so i say 'you were in my dream last night'

i swear my senses are honest

i felt your touch, heard your voice, saw your face

and it never felt so real until it happened in my dream

and when i said it i was serious.

most effective machines

that valley up north

could be a machine

pumping out doers, not thinkers

see-ers not feelers

sentimental overflow: friday through sunday

dehumanization: monday through thursday

move by the bells

tick with the clock

study by the book

scatter marks on square bubbles

rules and rulers, marks and markers

wait until friday to feel something

because emotions are distractions

and human beings don't test well - robots do.

glass walls

seal them shut and let go

of that pencil

loosen your grip, you hold on too tight

-onto people's words when they let slip

when you get it

it'll just look realer.

yeah, realer.

such a small mark makes all the difference

from a picture to a person

if people could be controlled by pencils and pens

i'd mark you up so good

but i wouldn't touch your eyes.

smart fangs

the new trend

is getting yer wisdom teeth removed.

all the cool kids are doing it.

yep, yank those suckers out if you want to feel cool.

or a whole bunch of mouth ache.

how layers clear the air

wanna go? let's go.

where?

bonkers.

why?

because we can.

and then where?

to the moon.

why?

because they say we can't.

do you think we can?

i know we can.

how?

jump.

how high?

just do it.

how high?

just trust me.

trust you?

trust yourself.

pitter. patter. teeth. chatter.

its a cold soothing wet

individual droplets sheeting down from clusters of the same

falling upon anything and everything

so indiscriminating

so encompassing

smells of rain

trickling down treetops and rooftops

i sit outside and soak myself in smells of rain 

and the tears that are mine mix with the sky's

in an indistinguishable river that blows with windy gusts and heaving sobs

uncontrollable weather and uncontrollable feelings 

combine to create the storm within and without hesitation

the unstoppable torrential downpour and the unforgivable emotional outpour

dual in a stormy competition for attention

hear me because 

it rains on you, too.

what is it?

so this is what it feels like to _________

a jittery calm

a flutter in the fingers

a desire to listen, learn, read and write, to watch the news, to converse with adults, to network and research, to expand and express

a choking inner voice, deafening, exhilarating

impulsive conversation

human gestures

sexual desires

resisting 

sharing, sharing, sharing the same sentiments

it's all so real

too real

this is it... what?

this is what it feels like

to grow up.

recipe for hunger

when you crave something

clench a pen between yer teeth

chew but don't swallow

spit words with ink

taste textures and tones with tongue and teeth

enhance with stylistic spices; dash of repetition, pinch of alliteration

frost with a glaze of appealing punctuation;/.,-:*&[--]?!

bake, let cool, taste.

share with a friend

eat and digest

your words.

it's a manbearpig world out there

eternally pissed off

fire famines floods thirst vengeance

clear water tried to kill us

now, you watch this video

leaves choked as bad as models

i call these days mondays

it all changes but, you realize..?

everywhere will become the ways of accident

they will corrupt

so,

i'm gonna turn it around, of course.

sell a fish

people are selfish

because all we really know we have is ourselves.

the world revolves around me - people and places are perceptions

becoming selfless is a choice.

the decision to be a part of someone else. someone else's process.

'there's a little bit of you in me, a little bit of me in you'

and it's easy to say i'd go further for family than i would a stranger

but random acts of kindness surpass relative ties

when all we have is each other we realize each other is all we need.

what is up there

and we have a thing for things like running and skiing and swimming and swings

i think it's because they bring us as close as we can get to flying

and we want to run faster, push harder, jump bigger, swing higher

but we're always grounded

in thought- to each other- to home-to mother

nature brings us back, gravity grounds us

but in the process we have those moments when we realize "this is what it feels like..."

this is what it feels like to ________ and we make our own blanks.

oh man

omen

oh men

owe min

omen

packaged pride

what is it like to make someone proud?

it is a feeling opposite but just as deep as heartache

it never felt so real until it happened.

when you miss someone, and you say your heart hurts, it actually hurts.

heartache is exactly what it sounds like.

but a proud parent is a precious gift

or a privilege

or both because gifts are privileges. 

i advise that the wrapping paper be saved and reused.

for that feeling is the same no matter when or what; making someone proud hurts so good

because you didn't do it right until now.

nature is unforgivable. that is all.

when i am standing alone atop a snow capped mountain

in my kelly green pants, rocking suspenders that hang down from my waist

and the toggles to my gray jacket are fastened

and my boots are buckled tightly

and my helmet is clipped under my chin

and my braids are knit

and my skis are secure

and my headphones are in

i am ready... i am ready i am ready i am ready

for whatever tempts me.

that snowy ledge

that mini mogul

that icy patch

that steep downhill

eager to tear it to shreds with the sharpened edges of my skis

i'll carve white, wavy train tracks into the mountain

while white wavy wires stream soothing melodies through my mind

and when it snows over

others will follow my feet

without even knowing i was there.

the music will resonate through the snow capped mountain

because nature has a memory that spans eternity.

roll call

dangerouz youf

is taking over

don't scream too loud

authority will hear you

authority is a joke

madness is fair?

fuck what you heard.

we make our own rules. some do's and dont's: 

1. don't apologize

2. do what you want 

3. don't take shit from anyone

the youth is the future.

what's it like to miss

sunburns 

take a drive with no concern for time

instincts signal left and right

be a cliche: the journey is the destination, what happens on the way can be what happens at all. 

what separates

tradition from cliche

one state from another

undrawn boundaries that scream, 'trespass if so inclined'.

sunburns

originality

is

hope.

why so serious?

it just makes you smile

uncontrollably

like an idiot

a toothy faced blaring idiot.

but everyone is jealous that you can seem so goddamn happy.

so he tries it.

sitting on the subway, singing to himself

white wires streaming out of strangers ears

he smiles at one of them - and waits. and forgets.

and slips into a surreal subway situation - songs and smiles, strangers and self.

weep steak, sweepstakes, meat cakes, MUFFIN.

and i said i jacked a copy of skymall

and he said, technically it's not stealing if the words "TAKE IT. WE'LL REPLACE IT!" are printed on the cover. sorry to burst your bubble.

well, bubble bursted, but -

when i took it home and read it a second time

cover to cover

i laughed harder at the upside down tomato garden,

the marshmallow shooter, and the 10 foot open tunnel backyard dog agility course

than i would have if it wasn't free.

finally, a decorative litter box i don't have to hide!

making lemonade has never been this much fun.

i can break the language barrier with this talking translator!

and i can sleep with confidence and comfort anywhere in the world.

thanks to my free copy of skymall.

smooth, sticking to rooftops of mouth houses

nom,nom,nom

slapstick it's magic

one two four seven

i laughed at his hat hair.

he took it off

and i laughed.

that may or may not have been a good move.

checkmate.

oh, fuck.

oh sheet.

The itch under my right knee screams 'scratch me' and I keep scratching keep scratching like the never ending itch of a bug bite on the bottom of your foot, unreachable until you settle into bed at night, rubbing and rubbing your sole against your sheets. Soles against your sheets, souls against your sheets—sharing secrets under comforters and covers, sewn into satin, an inner tug and pull, a nag that nags naggingly – the constant threat of revelation not revelation but reveal-ation. there it is out on the sheets, bare and beautiful- the naked truth.

only if it tastes good..

words like sprinkles on a summer's cone

sweeten the already sweet treat

they enhance the product, they satisfy the consumer

they entice the reader, they lure the observer.

sprinkle my pages with colorful words,

enhance my stories with adjective and verbs.

the final production, a sweet simple something 

that provokes feeling and thought,

laughter and tears,

words to savor over the years.

lets

we are alone

as separate beings in a single world.

lets merge in though but scatter in feeling.

lets put on a front and cover the real thing.

i exist, you exist, we exist; independently and individually.

but we rely on each other.

so say what you mean and mean what you say

because nothing is as it seems.

homeland

you can only smell your smell after being away from home for a long while.

and it is only an instant-you have to be ready for it- that first step back into your life, into your house, that first whiff of musk when you step inside is your smell.

well i came home today- but i forgot to smell my smell.

oh well.

yeah yeah yeah

today i found a lovely nook

the button bench

and all it took

was a little looking here and there

it couldnt be just anywhere

museworthy, secluded, immersed in some nay-cha (sp?)

me, the bench, a pen and some paper

o, gpomg tp ;pse tje wjp;e afffaor wjem tjos nattter eims ppi o

oh, well, that made sense in my head.

xoxo

O's are circles and they go on forever

X's are lines intersecting at a fixed point and the lines end somewhere

this is because

you can hug someone forever but eventually, during an extremely long kiss, even batman would need to break for breath.

[out of a conversation between me&sis]

to actually live

you need to make contact: eye contact, body contact, mind contact.

the physically present interaction is real.

the interwebz; that box of cyber; has 2 sentiments: really happy or really sad

two extremes that do not exist in nature

why?

because humans feel like one thing: shit. all the time. 

and it is being able to get ourselves out of feeling like shit that makes humans so excellent.

pulling out from under restrictions, shaking off that wet blanket

the interwebz box of cyber streams happy and sad wavelengths, distracting the human from contact.. feeding and fueling us with false feelings- and yeah, you feel good when you

get

shit

done

on the internet. 

but after you check yer email, update yer blog, send perfy bumpastickz on the book of faces, download that crazE song, sign up fer x, register for y, and beat level 13 on snood - you are still devoid of contact. where are your people? 

i should, but i cant yet

growls,

it does so with a kind undertone

hello i'm hungry, but it feels so nice to be empty

warm nuts in the front of the plane, sipping champagne

yeah, we're going out in style.

to let yourself go, exceed the limit, color out of the lines, overstep boundaries

it's not trespassing anymore. it's creativity.

hunger strikes at midnight,

and do you want to know a secret?

i say names to make things personal.

i lock eyes to make things personal.

it works - 'you knew that would work'

no, no one ever really knows if something will work, for sure

but it can feel like it will.

feelings?

i feel like you hate me.

i feel a vibe.

i feel sleepy.

good night.

londonland

british lads, breakfasts, bath, beerfests

covent garden, coaches, clotted cream, cordings

doest he have to be half naked to make a pound?

piccadilly circus, pounds, pence, peanuts; please, do not disturb.

sushi,

the tube, tea time, tins, turbins, tickets, toast, take a picture

lion king, frinton on sea

good ole british lad whose breath smells like death.

oxford street, open late, 

regent street, soho

unfinished business.

flying through physics [an excerpt from a stream of consciousness]

Force can be dangerous- so characters emerge from the hindsight of my babble- and she sits in physics class F=ma and this shit presses down on her with a torque that turns her insides out ‘when am I going to need to know this?’ But still she listens because her future rests upon her present knowledge, tomorrows test, next months final exam, tonights homework- sometimes she thinks she can neglect it all. ‘So what will it matter if I fail tomorrow I’ll be dead eventually and not a single soul will remember,’ how morbid, think those she shares her free period with, that is depression, NO that is REALITY, is anything she said false? No.  And that is the true false question for the day, and we move on, multipleguess the teacher says because you’re all gonna bomb and I have no sympathy.  Fuck you, she thinks, I see the sympathy in your temple tan lines from those nerdy little glasses, I hear the sympathy in your mickey mouse after puberty mixed with barney VOICE, and I taste sympathy in the starbs I sip while you babble nonsense, NO babble is brilliance, and I feel sympathy in the flimsy rulers you pass out before a test. GOOD LUCKKK, you mumble, but I know you really mean it— so she sits in her chair and her stomach grumbles with digestion and she wonders where in the world her sister is at the very moment because for all she knows her sister isn’t doing anything- the perception, nothing outside of what I see exists – and still the tests are passed out and she laughs at problem 1- sketches a freebody diagram FREEBODY DIAGRAM. it is of herself- with wings- not wings like bird wings, wings like long eyelashes that open her perspective wider than the room can handle, wider than the pencil can draw, eyelashes that OPEN UP THE WINDOWS AND DOORS SO THAT ALL SHE CAN SEE IS ALL THAT THERE IS. she is flying through a field of fascinating feelings and friendships and fourtune tellers and finders keepers and fuck buddies and fig Newtons -and NEWTONS law of gravitation tries to distract her but her pencil erases all thoughts of physicssss and continues to trace her freeee bodyyyyy diagrammmmmmm right there, where numbers and formulas should be. Should be? Who says? Will I get points for creativity? nooooo never, never, never in physics. its just the solid answer, underlined twice with a unit written right on the end of the line. there it is in sure satisfying Ticonderoga pencil—permananently ethereal- that's so legit- and she hands it in- just like that- never felt so goddamn real- and she flies out of that classroom with her eyes wide open and her freebody diagram comes to life.

inaprops ya hurd?!

It’s whatever I want and expressing it truly, it’s vulnerability onto the page and out of the human holding back.  To be able to change a life solely because I am experiencing mine and sharing what anything means to me in that way that way that way that makes people think any way they feel they can and feel beautiful. Not making sense to everyone, but making sense to someone.  It’s like running wild, sweating profusely, squirming randomly and keeping secrets because no one is watching.  It’s like being alone but finding company inside the wooden corridors of thought, the rocky pathways of belief, the tiled tunnels of truth and love.  Or maybe not at all.  Maybe; maybe it’s the realization that intimacy requires company, that loving another is loving yourself, that spontaneity is actually fate, that reason is crazy but certain. And so am I.

do drop jelly jars on orange flavored floors

today i had a feeling that the frozen food section was spreading its chill

like a sour cream cheese

that makes your nose twinge

and your face cringe - 

luckily i left before the frost kissed my lips

and clouded my eyes

and covered my ears

and tainted my taste buds

i thawed on the sidewalk

while reading a hot InTouch i lifted on my way out of the inferno.

wasted words are worse than weapons. why?

because reading shouldn't taint thoughts with fakery.

when it does - with falsified fame - the frozen food section freezes feelings.

you would know.

he accidentally took too long tying his shoes this morning

and she purposely stopped at yellow lights on the way to school.

working against each other they fought fire

with feelings.

fuck what you heard, there will be no traffic today-

flying over frictionless freeways-

traffic lights turned blue and spontaneously combusted into spaghetti and pennies

make a wish and take a bite

while the day transitions into night

stopping at a yellow light

she looks up and in her sight

he's tying his laces very tight

and with no more feelings left to fight

a bolt of lightening can seem safe and bright

under the dome sky

the storm shelters heartbeats,

heartbeats that skip and stop and synchronize

and at once

lightening bolts and beating hearts break

at daybreak.

thundercrack countdown

looking up at a golden sky

the breeze chills, the trees sway, relief.

tomorrow i am going away -

high tea, fish and chips

people watching, shopping trips

just to find a space

a grassy patch, a park bench

a hotel desk, seat A6

where my muse

spits secret sounds into spiral notebooks:

naked words.

three aye emm

tweed, twas, twizzler.

tourists talk in tattered tongues

try to trick the teens into taking time to think that thinking takes time 

today the turtle tried to turn over 

and they took turns taking turns turning turtles over

until time took the teens and the tourists and the turtle

and turned on them.

yeah it says it so does it that hint of manner

extermination drawbridges peanut sterling silver

a cat crossed the road with such elegance i swear a ballerina would be jealous

and then the ice cream truck pulled over with a vengeance 

that would scare any father with a wallet, silly.

what would you like?

what would I like?

what would we like.

it tastes sweet but intentions were sour.

paper green paper swap it for sugar and NO

the interaction might stick if its worth it

was it worth it?

even though its melty?

and your hands are sticky?

she looks up, locks eyes, smiles.

yeah it says it so does it that hint of manner.

quilts scream sounds of sleep

take it further than you thought you could because surprising yourself is almost better than surprising others.. surprise surprise it's what keeps us alive - because new and different is constant progression and constant evolution and constant advancement - when will it stop? it wont. time never does, we never will. hearts stop beating but people keep reading - it is all infinite because things are indefinite - they say it's all relative - i connect with my relatives - after feeling so disconnected i can finally connect through thought. how curious because my thought and their thoughts are perceptions/perspectives that exist on different levels - connecting through thought is one of the most difficult connections - farrrr more difficult than the intimate physical connection and THAT is why incest is a universal taboo- there exists a challenge to connect with family intellectually rather than physically because WE ARE ALREADY BLOOD RELATED.

rolling hill of an m&m made of lipstick and salt

we're being honest

but we're both relaxed

and

after all this time

i have nothing to tell you.

if you give me your hand

open, palm up

i read secrets in the lines

i hear truth in your lines

and they match.

stop and think about not thinking about what you're saying

because it is real what comes and goes

he knows

she knows

we know.

feelings in your face

eyes plead

hearts bleed

nothing hurts

when we're being honest. 

heroes and villains

well, camp echo lake

it's funny how you play into the "real world"

tribal themes become movie scenes

but that isn't real at all

it seems, in order to be a convincing actor you must convince yourself you ARE the character you are playing - you are no longer you.

a parasitic portrayal of hero or villain

out of control, under your control

it is potential chaos. but it is actual security.

"you either die a hero or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain."

once there was a ruin-ism.

 

So then the pretzels got stale and the air wreaked/ /reeked of half hearted honesty.  The tour guide opened the windows and changed the air the way you’d change your underwear in the morning- just like that- off and away. The visitors filed into the room, replacing the aura of previous persons.  The guide always wondered what would happen if he flat out just ruined his life. All it took was a tick of the clock and there he would be, standing naked on the ping pong table screaming   SAVE THE TREES AND FUCK YOUR MOTHER MY DOG HAS A BEAUTIFUL ANUS AND THE GRASS IS NOT GREEN

and just like that 1-2-3 you are labeled insane- 

Well the truth is that everyone has impulsive thoughts, 

and they creep up on us like humans that were, 

and they coat your honesty like sprinkled sugar glaze that says 

EAT ME DON'T RESIST MY CREEPY COATING 

and you know its true- because it came from inside of you- and that is scary. You want to keep it down but you want to shout it out, 

I KNOW HOW YOU FEEL BECAUSE I AM HUMAN TOO, 

but together we try not to understand each other 

because sharing our secrets is sharing our flaws.

i'm gonna vom

mumbling something seriously undecipherable no matter how hard i strain my eardrums to hear the words escaping his mouth.. its impossible. im driving, i cant talk on the phone. but i want to hear what he is saying back there.. i hear the taptaptap click click phingers on the phone keys sending signals of sensuality. but not to me.

i am probably driving my own lover to a date with his lover.

this is a sick joke.

i'm gonnna vom.

good thing he let me drive his car

today.

brainz

i'm gonna beat the system.

do you care to join mE?

mindz run wild while batteriez run out

pen ink battles gasOlean 

one two three

you and me

beating the sysTem

sister.