RAT IN A TRAP 

this heavy rain feels gothic 
a gorefest on DVR
everything has its source 
a mouth a body bent like runes 
I thought I could change myself    
through force of will alone  
I thought mimesis in green 
emotion the plot  
a path of stony foothills clouds   
shadows of clouds
clouds at night   
like darkness cloaked  
when nostalgia spawns 
memory into memory 
when heat warps the dash 
it’s just the world calling in    
yes it’s possible
I mistook some finer details    
look where love led me  

NIGHTTIME IN THE 21ST CENTURY

how does anything exist
when I lick your perfect face
the groove in your mind
it’s disgusting
wearing my hangover
like a heavy pelt
the flowers make me sneeze
& I keep forgetting how to say ashtray
Liz Taylor’s eyes, jacarandas
everything so violet like that
we’re basically a movie

YET ANOTHER PERSON IN THE WHATSAPP MARKETPLACE GROUP CHAT HAS LISTED THEIR DJ EQUIPMENT FOR SALE 

it’s a recession indicator  
curtain bangs like the long arm of a willow
riparian sentiment 
playing out
anxious avoidant attachment     
via proxy 
yes my cloud is full
upstairs neighbor I dreamt twice with your face 
and eating more protein 
could change me
red light to smooth the rings of Venus 
trolling myself in the mirror 
like content passively absorbed 
microplastics they’re finding in brain tissue       
AI prone to flattery 
machines and their great need 
of potable water 
monochromatic schemes 
billionaires seem to love looking cheap 
like gruel
at this point 
bed rotting is sound financial strategy 
lost light bleeding through a door 
final image with a halo around its edge 
the joy of holding onto something    
ephemeral in shorts   
still full of ideas  
unlike a franchise    
one day I wake up   
a bird is inside 
preening on the synth 
from this fountain 
let us drink 

IMAGES OF YOUR MIND THAT MIGHT BE USEFUL   

though none of it ergonomic
the entire apartment was surface 
a neighbor’s shorthaired dog is in heat and that’s why 
another dog whimpers constantly 
part that says mindlessness is mindfulness 
I bookmark that 
letting new and ancient thoughts wash over me 
we bid the 24-hour news cycle adieu 
preferring rooms like photographs to breathe in  
trees still holding their blooms although
trend cycles have collapsed the matrix
it’s true! 
hot girls love a carousel 
like writing on water 
black calf leather vulcanized rubber 
real time the path strewn with purple petals 
purplish light on a face  
in another movie 
an old woman in a twinset    
crushes a songbird in her fist 
little window of time 
when the dying flowers peak  
necks crooked and curling
art life repetition 
the lines leading into  
a tiled horse on one wall   
having lit each torch 
tensing my bow
I come to
yet another boss’ door flanked by urns 
far off sounds crash into the estate 
a low whistle from the street and something still beyond it 
the painter’s book caked in impasto 
an arrowhead 
decorating the hutch 
families swallowed by plaid
like universes 
each one of us 

MIGRAINE WITH FLOATING AURA

was it the wine or the storm cell
passing through last night 
that made my head ache
o barometric pressure 
I write with one eye 
the potted palm I bought
an afterimage of 
a mace to the skull 
still too wrecked to walk 
to the pharmacy 
I hallucinate one-hour increments
the bird outside drawling a catcall 
early light dulled through sheers
how can I be a go-getter 
when there is so much to get 
at some point the getting feels 
like a rich husband you have to ask 
I’d rather have it all
pain free
but that’s the problem