Miscellaneous poems from miscellaneous times
i'm skipping the whole description thing, for the time being
“Butchers and Erosion” (Fall 2024)
[White noise kind of drown me out,,,]
I'm aiming at veracity
I'm trying to speak the,,
truth
And of course there's obfuscation
And of course there's obfuscation
And of course there's obfuscation
When I'm trying to speak my,,
truth
It's like the words just fall a,,
way
Tired of passive-aggression
Tired of feigning interest
Tired of sarcasm
Tired of the,,
truth
I inherit
This language
It says it speaks
It says it speaks the,,
truth
But when I stop and stare that way,
It just all begins to sway
It says, "I'm trying to find the,,
truth"
Truth and imperfection
Truth and imperfection
Truth and imperfection
Truth and the,,
truth
Signifiers signifying
Signifiers signifying
They say that they're signifying
I'm waiting for a,,
sign
Speaking that language
Speaking a language that's
Trying to speak about,,
me
Grammar rules try to choke me out
Emails and no complaining
It's all formal and inhumanely
It's all formal and it's,,
dumb
And now I try to learn to speak
While I practice biting
My own,,
tongue
If my words betray me,
What have I become
When my words betrayed me,
What did I be,,
come
Was it betrayal or maybe something--
Was I butcher or maybe something--
And so my body e,,
rodes
I am erosion,
I act out erosion,
As I butcher this world
As I butcher these,,
words
Irregardlessly
Importune to me
Make me,,
numb
I try to cry out
But I don't even know my name
And when I try to speak
My words don't mean
What they think they oughtta
What they think they,,
do
It's the butcher:
erosion
Me and
you.
"speaking makes it so (1)" (Fall 2024)
My stomach buzzes with disconnection
A soft fire sears. my skin
I need to pull my stomach from what's in
For
I'm not supposed to have a shirt
My sk the shirt rubs it raw
"speaking makes it so (2) - or no?" (Fall 2024)
My stomach shimmers with disconnection
It stings to wear this skin
Flesh. raw flesh. open wound. cut open
By cloth--by polyester--by chafing, loose veils(s)
Soft pain
Lucid rememberence
"Eating an ear" (Spring 2025)
It is soft
It is tender
Pinsered by teeth
Interrogated by tongue
Porous and smooth
The flesh gives way, but
Something underneath
Bite down
Feel it
The not quite connection of cartilage
Pliable yet firm
Inviting like a push door
Soothing
Skin cut by bone, tearing
Ripping inside
A warm embrace
Slovenly like a toothpick
Like tootsie pop
Like saliva patina
Crushed
Trace the ridges of the undercavern
Maw
Fat reserve
Dog food
Burnt quickly
Supple, settled
No resistance
Loose and inviting
No blood
Swallow
A salty shadow remains
The flavor of an impulse:
Top and bottom buoyed
Like magnets strangling a balloon
"Strangling" (Spring 2025)
Thumb pressed in from the outside
Feeling cardiac fingerprint
A lock without a key
The key is to lock it
Hear it click
Like bubble wrap
Like a poster tube
Grasp it
You understand?
Question
Desire
Unrest
Desire for order
Desire to know
Bone termites migrate south
By way of nervewrought thoroughfares
Sapience congested
Gasp
Sputter
Words writhe
Pain rises above air
But below pleasure
Tidal colonies shift like
Fields of grain (rooted body hair)
Speech
Stutter
Coalesce
Come together
Clench
Know it
Feel it
Shuttered blinds
Splash happily in
The first mud puddles of Spring
Interlaced memories
Remember
The penis comes again
It clicks:
A complete shut out
Bummer
I thought they'd win
"Privacy and the wind (the wound)" (Spring 2025)
Stop it!
Let me go!
Push it harder
Push it till it breaks
Warped wood square peg
In metal frame circle hole
Feel it in your neck
It the back of your head
Feel seen
Maybe
Feel life blood
Breathing
A rhythm of
To slice you open
Entrails of tissue
Eyes in the darkness
They're watching you
Sliding down
A deep hill
Into a trench
Exposed and alone
But what if you aren't
It won't fit
It doesn't shut
You press it and it stays still
For a minute
Of silence
Of forgetting
Of safety and
Solitude
Sliced open by midnight pupil
Pushed open by penumbral breeze
Bisected blackness of light
Just let me be
Just me
Echoes
Reminders
Shame
But the door won't quit
Threshold to the outside world
Organism that clenches
Circulation
Wriggle like carpet fuzz
Creaking stairs
An eye mask
An injured leg
Intestines crawl like neckties
I want to be alone
But my body won't let me be
My body that is not mine
My body that's beyond me
That swallows me
Within tonsiled ceiling
Where flaps swing open
As rotten me at abattoir
Fetid, hanging, limp, open, alone
And infested with maggots
Crawling in my head
In my eyes
In the corners of my eyes
I hear them every night
The sound of rusted hinges
And architectural nearsightedness
A place for no person
An experiment in falling apart
Turning to sludge every day
Being watched
Becoming invisible
Like leaves rattling in a dirt mound
An embrace of many, many more
Creeping shadows cut deep
Paranoia in the midnight sky
Other people live here now (too)
"Gravity haunted bones" (Spring 2025)
Pressure
Pushing
Straight and narrow
Tied up in ligamented catacombs
Electric cables
Flesh taped to the ground
Unstable
Rattling
Breaking plates
Smashed windows
A tourist in the night
Evidence of pain
Skin tight
Succumbing
Pinching
Chafing
Biting
Tearing slowly
Eating through time
Digesting
That is, acid melting down
Crayon blowtorched
Twig snapped
Hand caught in hydraulic press
The vertex hurts the most
Arthritic-like
Injured from knowledge
Scars that say, "you were here"
Cut open passageways
Loose panels
Electrical wiring
Spilling out
Tasting empty
Like yesterday
Like iron at the back of your throat
Fractured and whining
Push past it
Press it down
Cauterized trauma
Splintered intersections
Throbbing
Mewling
Clawing
Sleep it off
It wakes you up
It pulls you down
Like time-lapsed roots
Like reminders of infection
Dislodged
Limp
Limping
Secrets that whisper in winces
And stay secret
Since you haven't asked
If you look like an injury
"Sugar cookie" (Spring 2025)
Sugar cookie
Soft and chewy
Sugar cookie
Yummy yummy
Sugar cookie
In my tummy
Sugar cookie
Sharp like shrapnel
Sugar cookie
Cuts me open
Sugar cookie
Raw skin bleeding
Sugar cookie
Soft and chewy
"Radial Symmetry" (Spring 2025)
Arms shoot from my stomach (naval?)
Hands reach out my mouth (tongue?)
Two fingers dislodge my eyes (pupils?)
My neck bones are caressed, inwards like
My arms bend backwards
I feel it like it's new
"Rip my eyes out" (Spring 2025)
No stealing
Can't live
Everything is borrowed
Time,
Apple,
Etc.
"i want it i need it to make me feel heated" (Spring 2025)
I need to be loved
Like a scythe
Loves a wheat stalk
I need to be held
Like MrGear
Holds a 1000° knife
I need to be crushed
Like a hand
By a mallet
Like frozen play-doh
By hydraulic press
Like Monokuma
Loves Monomi
“MY FLESH FEELS LIKE FIRE (flounder.ing)” (Spring 2025)
*see illustrated version here -- note: the image gallery features a draft version of the text from the final poem*
FLOUNDER
And stutter;
Fall deep underground.
Open your eyes
To fear and confound:
Five tall doorways,
BUT NO ONE AROUND.
FEEL IT SO DEEPLY,
AND FALL
ON YOUR FACE.
CUT UP YOUR SKIN.
FEED IT TO ANTS.
Like you're growing some fins
(BEFORE DROWNING (DEEP END))
CHOKING ON AIR
Like it's an oil spill.
Plastic trash like a necklace.
It's so cheap. It's so cute.
AND SMILE AND WAVE,
FEEL IT SEEP IN.
LIKE MUD IN A PUDDLE
OF SOFT SEDIMENT,
BURNING AND FLAILING AND
WAITING TO TALKING
TO TWO TWO
AT A TIME.
TREAT THEM TO ICE CREAM
PAY, IT'S YOUR DIME.
FEED ALL THE ANGELS
THAT SWEET SACCHARINE.
FLOWING LIKE WATER –
LIKE BLOOD FROM A BIN –
PACK IT IN TIGHLTY,
SQUEEZE TO FIT IN.
FEELING SO LONELY,
SO LOST FROM WITHIN.
EIGHTEEN METAL ARMIES
MARCH ON PHOENIXIAN TYRANT.
BURN IT DOWN AND FALL TO PIECES.
YOU HAVE TO. AND THEN? GO AGAIN.
MADE WITH A PURPOSE:
FLOPPING, PISCINE, AND THIN.
“PELAGIAC” (Spring 2025)
*see illustrated version here -- note: the image gallery features a draft version of the text from the final poem*
TOUCH THAT LINGERS
TRACE THAT TRACKS
(THE HUNTER)
PRICE THAT PAYS, FOR ITSELF
IN FINGERPRINTS
PEELING PAINT
GLOMMING GLUE
FOOD THAT WON'T LET
YOU FORGET
FEED YOURSELF WITH
AND WIND UP CHEWING
CRUNCHY CHITIN BONES
but mostly it's the stick–
the residue what remains.
The sludge that piles up in
Sewers and slides down
The sluiced grooves of veins.
Corrosion fills the void.
(The void that needs be empty).
Pick a path of pestilence
Pursue the promises of a purge
Of soap and water and alcohol
Rub them till you're raw
Yet even then it lingers
(IT’S THE ONLY SKIN REMAINED)
And lower down, a larceny
The theft of a dream that tames.
Fingers touch the world like
Thorny vines; glass jars seem
As thistles (stickily sublime);
Invasive species dominate
Whenever you wet your whistle.
Breath in poison; feel it filter
In through follicles; feel it
Flow faster than blood (your blood)
Feel the contagion that contains
<all those petty pleas for solace
(A weight – a tax – a pain)>
"INTERLOPER//INTRUSION ;(Dear Diary...)" (Spring 2025)
GET OUT OF ME.
GET OUT OF THERE.
STOP IT. FUCKING COME
OUT-- (it rattles.
my spiral skeleton staircase
-- my twisted spine --
my blistered posture).
get out get out get out
(You need to breathe).
You can't make me do this on my own.
The flesh won't move how it's supposed to.
Stop Stop Stop....
And my toes clench and my palms curl.
Living as a mech suit. It hurts. Stop. Stop.
(Why won't you, the pilot, just pilot this shit?)
Why does it hurt to breathe?
Why does it hurt to be?
I know what I must do,
I just don't know if I have the strength to do it...
My phalanges sear.
I need to cut it out... but I can't--
I need to cleave, I need to speak,
I need to eat but I fucking can't...
Why won't my body do
SOMETHING???
IT HURTS SO MUCH TO KEEP THINGS
THIS WAY AND I KNOW THAT IT
KNOWS THAT--
stop. stop, what are you doing?
get out of here. you're not supposed
to be doing things this way...
Plastic glove covered hand
Making sandwiches.
Thin coating that clings to your skin
-- that etches in an unshakable
Reminder of where you end.
And you can't help
But feel it all the time everyday
When it's like this...
Stop. I need you out of here.
YOU HAVE SHIT TO DO. GO DO IT.
stop stop stop stop stop stop
don't touch that...
Leg like lightning carved tree stump.
Charcoal skeleton shoulders,
Under soft breath of dew:
Expand. Contract. Expand.
Contract-- Expire. Shatter.
Eclipse. Lapse. Retire.
CEASE. GO AWAY!
YOU'RE NOT FIT FOR THIS. DIE--
The sea's turbulent topology
Reaches to return home,
Scraping against architecture
As an afterthought...
Grind your teeth to dust.
Shut up and die.
Your ribs shake. You feel it break.
Fucking invalid.
Can't speak. Can't do shit.
Fucking shaky palms,
Knees weak shit but no gall
Nor so much as an ounce of mom's
spaghetti...
Fucking torso; obscene and hideous--
Leave. Leave.
DO YOUR SHIT ALREADY.
IM TIRED OF waiting...
...(NO ONE'S HOME)...
I leave before the echoing silence
Can tell me the truth.
I want to be disconnected;
I want wires and a sputtering heart;
I want flesh that fails;
(I want to try crystal)...
...
...Where did everyone go?...
...
Corner of the table
Sinks in. Sinks down...
--slump.--
...
I'm scared. What if I can't do it?
What if I am where I am?
And (what if) I start there too.
What if I'm the well of origination?
-- Stop it. You don't belong here (anymore)
"Tessellation" (Spring 2025)
Why does this shit always keep going?
Why does it keep compounding?
Every hour that goes by,
Is an hour that gets eaten.
It's just on, and on, and on, forever.
It slots into me.
It succumbs to me (me, I do).
It keeps going, and going, and going, forever.
Zoom out/zoom in
Spin out/around
Fall up/climb down
Kingdom/one crown
Ascendancy
Incendiary
A scented breeze
A second fee
Fracturing into little fragments,
Polygons break down in polynomial time,
And collapse into pulsing polyhedra.
Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow,
I see it turning ahead of me:
A bloody, big, old oak tree:
Ligaments and tissue and soil:
Heaving; slumped, like
A paper igloo in the rain.
Construction season because
Cracks emerge(d) because
Water freezes(froze) because
Time proceeds(proceeded) because
Being(s) precede(s)--
The kind of love that's symptomatic;
Teeth falling into fairy-fisted jars,
Falling into soot into sprite
-Ly like spawning in the light.
Like feeling when there's something
Thermo(nuclear/dynamic) and feeling like
I am fading (like Bôa "Duvet" on a TikTok feed).
It's all just this jigsaw shit (moral
Misdemeanors that slot into
Sewn shut secrets
And swine flu colored masks
That fold into bicyclical sets of spiraling eyes).
Drag it up.
Punch it up.
(Like a jump drive).
(Like a cow caught in a tractor beam).
Push it through. Force it out.
Make it real
-Ly ripped open like a mesh of squares in a Blender
Full of edges and faces and vertices.
And extrude it again,
All cubic and
Culinary like Maruchan Ramen.
Bakery that bakes it in.
Ray traced and painted faces of
Donuts in the parking lot.
Asphalt that tears to pieces,
Like making an omlette in the winter.
Like marshmallows and Hershey's
(They're manufacturing industries):
Moving mechanical,
The gears of the factories where
Cocoa and powder tumble together
In giant steel mixers--
They turn as one.
Milk and chains (of commerce)--
Louis Pasteur and spontaneous
generation--
It comes from within.
Within within, it's in, it's in.
Cuz there are people there too,
Up in the mountains and churches,
Where soldering copper tints
A triptych of stained glass windows
With a
Spiral on a spiral on a spiral;
See its splendor:
That splintered vitrine plane
(Because you are/n't/ the only one)
"Salmonella" (Summer 2025)
I stick my head in a furnace
And it feels real good
Squeezing my guts like a lesion
Where my skin runs thin
It tastes so peculiar
I can't stop myself
From biting and gnawing
And frothing away at the mouth
Grab my fat like a handle
Of soft play-doh
Play with it for miles
Roll it into stringing ropes
Arms twist like a pretzel
And I can't let go
I'm searching for something
While I drown out every hope
The abrasion's so soothing
It lifts me up
I'm faux levitating
(It's like I'm gonna puke)
Seize it so tightly
And don't let go
Sharp like a screwdriver
Made of bone
Twisting and turning
I won't give in
The world falls out slowly
And I feel so sick
Biting my tongue off
Ripping off all my limbs
I don't know how to swallow
Or else I'd fit right in
Caught in a landslide
Bl3ad1ng like a broken stream
I kept pushing harder
Trying to be all I could be
Carving glass with a hammer
It burns to touch
I rip my eyes out often
And now I can't sense much
But what I can seems awful
And makes time stretch
On for so long
I'm so far gone
2 minutes and forty
Seconds
Eyes glaze over
Staring at my screen
Watching Macbeth for high school
On five times speed
Eating peanut oil-soaked prop apples
I bite through the skin
Retching and spinning
The ground caves in
Now there's a knife
Knocking at my door
Scraping a contour
And busting up the floor
I'm squealing all nocturnal
Like a farm mouse who's
Lost and afraid,
And freezing to death.
It sounds like--
"<3 love u :P" (Summer 2025)
explosions are not enough
i need you to be pulled apart like a ball of yarn
all at once
every thread its own momentum
i need you to be razor soluble
i need you melting
i need you pumped full of pink goo
wrapped in meat plaster
Sisyphus on a hot dog roller
snap your back like a wish bone
broken glass in the sandbox
heart made of gushers
oozing with human centipede feces
sea sick and dizzy
dash your head against the pavement in the parking lot
"subway diaries" (Summer 2025)
hands shake
and skin
everything
dry and slippery
teeth chatter on their own
and i can't stop
tracing this ghost that's
chewing me up (inside of me)
vision slips
in a slimy arc
as it brushes my temples
no stasis
everything rattles loose
screw myself
into the shape of contortion
wasting away
jittering
jitterbug in a bright, new city
hair does it too
falling apart
and you can taste everything
wrenched out by gravity
always
you can't not
is that rain on the horizon?
the world warbles when I walk nearer
"running_to_the-store_crying.pdf" // "A 17 Year Monopoly;..." (Summer 2025)
be fair to some
and fair be full
there is
somehow a charge
to source your parts
and interests bad enough
to get censored and
ground in to a point
a still point
meant to have been in space
no broader way
a just world
is willing and erotic
another type of flies
create me
to already been me
the sure time of infinity
games of little reminder
limitation to visual cover
a single way to sort
this for you
at you
by you
best by 04:54
to thrive by luck
luck of #17
and to best of best
luck at to--
04:54
best of luck
so splurge
even though retaining
is just somewhat recent
at 02:27
#4 birthday
at happy 02:27
#4 by #4
birthday by #4 at happy
but i have to succeed
instead of that sad building i loved
because we're dead
and shouldn't be considered
more than the archival moment
still lots
left at 10:53
17 lots
only growing
by 10:53 there's #20
hesitant friends send for a site
to be maintained
i'm happy but hesitant
barely a use for my goal
my intended goal
of years past and years over
and at least
the worst has past
and the well has stopped
at 07:07 (migraines discouraged me)
by 08:38
#17 (birthday at)
i'll be happy if i'm a tracker
i'm barely happy
but tracker is my intended goal
by 08:38
#17
happy at
#17
by 08:38
happy at that?
or is that fact a coincidence?
out here by 11:34
you shouted
BIRTHDAY
at 07:16
HAPPY
at #14
POG
by 12:45
happy #24
by 07:13 happy
paradoxical
birthday #12
you shouted, time out
i've been out here
for a long time
you should've been here
by 09:01
you long for this
but at 09:01 I've shouted at you
I remember #25
the still birthday
discovering
at 07:16
happy #14
happy birthday
birthday #14
by at by
all my love for you
my monopoly
next is about losing us
losing pencil privacy
to eraser security
::about poetry::
Most of the poems I've written over the past couple years. I like poetry as a medium because it lets me push language to its breaking point and is the easiest medium for me to translate some of my more intense feelings into something semi-legible. It also lets me frame my paranoid, repulsive, etc. thought patterns as something closer to beauty.
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