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It’s embarrassing to think of

how long I’ve been thinking of 

you- Mama made me colder than this, told me to

stand up straight and always be late and to throw the first punch- drunk off whiskey for fighting 

but, come on, I’m a scavenger darling

these talons are for eating not destroying

and I am proud of my holy work


I’m not angry or nothing

towards the way things turned out,

it was just easier when you were in California

and I didn’t have to check every black-brown hair fair skinned chic girl

in every goddamn room I walk into

and then you are there and I have so much to say

but no way to say it- I’m frustrated by

the way things turned out

honestly, I pray for your happiness just in case

some benevolent god hears my voice. 


As Phil soothes himself with his guitar I sit out here dreaming of a different form of creating of capturing moments like this, there’s nothing like being high. I wouldn’t trade where i am right now for a pot full of gold and a beach with a babe in a bungalow- this is the grit of life, the gunk and the funk and the fresh and the getting clean tattooed body feel the universe if you want to call it that 

the vibes are all around, like sounds, like the ocean floor seaweed swaying and hipping so elegantly and why not say sexual? all the earth is reproducing the old with the new creating the first and the last and i am a part of it, feel how grand that is, the image of god, and stripped of my ego i will liberate myself, but not my, the self, which i am and am not. doesn’t rumi sound great right now? The trick is to find the time, the right now, to go with the flow and the dao and find yourself on eternity's shore smiling and wet and childish growing from a man to a human- it is a consequence and a privilege- don’t neglect what you are learning, what you are seeing, here, at work, while high, in between time and don’t forget the important parts- keep moving, i am motion and these words are emotion and together something phenomenal, if you walk and see, will emerge that is truly holy and profound and the first and the last, into more and more than i can believe.  

the Right Now

My mind has been on the slugs as I’m smoking green tea watching the rain fall in Seattle, does anything grow in Autumn? All I see are slow fades and bright colors, my eyes shift when I ain’t wearing my boots because my feet slip too easy on these wet leaves, I’m leaving, I think, but then I run into a new girl and she speaks in poetry and looks like a celebrity and I’m stunned, we’re dating, I’m staying I guess, this is all still a prayer I guess. It’s now seven in the morning and already I’m working/hustling to pay off debts looking in the past when my entire body is aching towards the future, and presently I’m sitting on my ass, I need a walk. I need to reassess where my dreams lie because my pillow is cold every night. Jesus Christ your name still feels like honey on my lips though bitterness in my stomach, where have you gone? I’m here still in Seattle, still waiting and running through snow exhausted thinking that there’s gotta be a better way but I might be blind because I see nothing. I am not yet in the flow.

Is this a good metaphor? I can’t tell if it’s hitting or not

the Flow

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