Subway Scrawl

"How late the daylight edges
toward the northern night
as though journeying
in a blue bat, gilded in mussel shell
with, slung from a mast, a lantern
like our old idea of the soul"

KJ62

Caroline

Caroline
I’ve seen her lift that ton
bucket of sugar that I can
barely slide

I’ve tried to unlatch the
cappuccino cap after
she brewed a double shot
always caught so tight, I
try and fight
left, loose
but still- it’s stuck

I’ve noticed her teeth,
their grinding features,
snarl when she smiles

The style of her
thong, so wrong to be showing
Pulled so tight up her back, must
be why she’s uptight and
cracks when the crumbs collect
on the fridge’s ledge- she
needs to relax

I’m scared to scoot by her
belly or butt
with only tiles
length space

When she’s cutting
lemons or cake
the knife mocks,
stares at me
as it rocks back and forth
across the cutting board-
teetering in her hand, far away
from my face
but the mirage
makes the movement
fast

I cast a glance
toward her
eyes, catch a devising grin
on the lower rim
of her brown
pupils
She is stupid but
skilled at scaring
the wits out of
me.
I hope she doesn’t cut me.

Coffee Sleeve

Caution! Brown warning
A stop before you sip sign
hugging the mug
for customer convenience

Milkcrate

standing on a milkcrate
staring at the boxed cake
baskets hang the ceilings
sporadic misdealings
angry old man fights
Semolina Twist- not sliced!
"Last one, sir"
Grunt, scoffs "Failure"
Gone, back Nora's on
singin' me my soothing song
"sunrise, sunrise looks like
morning in your eyes."
I'm back atop my milkcrate

Plasma Orgasm

Is nothing natural anymore-
what can we look forward to?
The foragers woke up to beams
of fresh sunrise
We, to fake rooster calls
and trucks backing up
They retrieved their
berries, captured their
protein
We dial out for delivery
They fell asleep to timber howls
green leaf-bed
We never fall asleep
We fake or force it

Ornamental Serviette

Today I surreptitiously
pecked the sunflower seeds
off a lonely loaf
I peeled apart doilies
for the entire shift
Except the last seven hours

Separating doilies reminds
me of you
A person I am constantly
writing subconscious poems to
To tell you of my days
the time spent
or wasted away
from you
and your films
and your musicality
and your touch
that I mentally caress so much

Yet back to the bread
the customers’ call
and leave me back here without you
with withdrawal

juncture

Sitting on a crowded Q
in a stolen subway chair
(acquired by beating the frumpy man
to the chinese woman's
vacant seat)
on the east, furthest from
the city -
the horde of heads
all turn in reverie toward
the 5 o'clock skyline
creating their own curved
and crooked line of sky
with their tall squat short
thin figures blocking
the sunset backdrop.

I bob my head
to catch a glimpse but the people
structures barely blink long enough
to wince or shrink for me to see
they're packed too densely, immensley
blocking my view
A man moves left
just enough to leave me
a keyhole peek -
the tail end of the
Brooklyn Bridge slithers
into sight with the Watchtower
sitting still behind it.

I hunch my shoulders in
despondance and scribble down
this internal correspondence.

C.O.

Some confessions are meant to be kept
slipped snuggly in the back pocket
scribbled on Ivex pastry paper.

The thought could not escape you,
but the words to capture, could.
The mood might nearly rape you
from all you’ve understood.
He’s not acquainted with your secret,
you’d tell him but the truth:
you cannot disclose this emotion
in an explicitly expressive fashion.
It’s un-revealable
because it’s inconceivable
to the common mind.

You continue to keep the secret
because you want to conceal the conundrum
that his mind might also be frequent.

all things innocent

First the shock
such as caught under
the pool cover
Flailing gasp- choke on water
scream chokes
on tears
Dig break stamp slam
The numb hair follicles
invade the back of your head
Unconsciously conscious
whimper inside
inside inside out
tearing
such as layers of construction paper
unconcerned
is he
more implicated
less than beast
Tears, tears
Air , fears of losing all air
yet wishing
your lungs will
kill
you
before he does.
Not slashing
throat not stealing
your breath with
choke
but slowly stealing
your love
your mindful life
theft of something
greater than
simplyexisting.
Tainting skin,
touch,
love.
Polluting sacred
parts.
Crying inside
dying
would not fasten
rezip
quicken

this killing of
all
things
innocent.

Hey

Why a "how are you"
when you yourself is all
you care in terms of condition
your rendition of this idiomatic
dialogue
only enervates me because
I know you don't care how
I am.
Why, when I point it out,
you wither into a babbling
businessman with appeasing
"please, forgive me's"
and appropriate punctuation.
It was just a joke,
kiddo
you'd know if you knew me
and if you knew me
you wouldn't ask me
how I am doing.
You spread yourself too thin:
find your friends,
make amends.
Ask them sincerely
and to their face
after a real embrace
how things are
after that bad break with the car
after granddad passed
after she got that great internship.
Keep up
with the ones you love
and stop trying to hover above
everyone you've ever met.

P C

In this place, it is quite correct to act
in a PC manner
as a matter of fact, I'm sick of that
I'd like to hang my banner
stating : "Fuck politics and
what is correct in this warping world we
live in!"
Why we believe the media's schemes
and just accept what we are given
will never settle well in my belly
because I cannot stand to
stand for something I don't
even understand - I'd rather know
my convictions are bold
I'll even let them unfold and debate them
over a walk with you - as long
as you promise to listen
The problem, I fear, won't be
with your ears,
I'm quite certain they work just
fine. The difficulty lies in your
tragic eyes that don't operate
alongside your mind
You believe every sight
without thinking
it just might not be correct
You see, we've created PC
for society, not
individual you & me
Thinking is a process of elimination,
it's not continuing this dedication
to ideas implanted by the works
of the world
Think for yourself,
stop soaking and regurgitating

Rocked that Casbah

For just one night
we owned this city
burnt down the bridges with strides of pride
licked the sap off rooftop ladders
careened through the streets like nothing else mattered
Especially northward, we captured the night
Every brick, every building, every bum
within our sight
was a conquered trapeze
that we walked delicately
and then wrapped around our pinky
for later use
Oh, we felt the abuse the streetlights
all felt
when we commanded them to change
for our crossing
Left right up and backward we were bossing
the bridge to move for us
we knew by morning it was the
last they'd all adore us
sun rose, we crept home
tucked our feats in tight
remembering forever what we lived
that night

Giosefi

Red velvet reveals
the tears of your soul
the unlocked keyhole

I see in your skin
a longing for life
a fear of the night

Shivering, you confide
in dark, demons invade
and you cannot escape

Let the pillow consume
your beautiful mind
until you are blind
from the vile light

and it is dark, like now...
written invisible
your fears don't see as real
as they were under the dingy light
where sleep was not for night
when we spoke in elephant whispers
and quivers kept you cold
I heard everything you told
and understood the unsaid
all the thoughts caught inside
your shadowy head

John Galt

Everybody’s shrugging
shrugging days
shrugging nights
murmuring their maybes
mumbling their mights

but what about
Attempts
erupting through resent
for existing
without life
without zest
where’s the life,
when we’re all shrugging
and not struggling
for betterment?

I feel the tug
of one too many
shrugs.

Faucet

It’s Chinese torture
our touch and go tag
both of us are stag
both running the same way
but with different paths
But like a Chinese fingertrap
we’re both pulling
like we’re mad
and we are
we’re simply mad
got a fever for life real bad
we try to get real steady
but we just seem to go fast
and the moment hasn’t past
it's still sifting through the glass
unabating, grain by grain
building a mountain
made of sand:
A desert for our liking,
and isn’t it so striking
that we just keep getting better
our connection, so unfettered
and you just drip me
you just get me like a faucet

Free throw

I want to be smooth
Get you in one quick move
I don’t like triangles
Won’t touch a tongue
that’s already tangled

The prospect of a breezy
percolation of romance
has no chance without
some long shots

haven’t practiced
but I’ll free throw

Abyssinian eyes

*Photography by S.Kanksy

A cat’s blink is a half second longer
although they seem slow
I’ve grown a bit fonder
of the creatures
that take time
to contemplate their vicinities

When the sun is sunk under
clouds of grey hues
shift slower than
the chipping of plaster
I look to the sky with
a feline’s eye
and I elongate my blinks
to make my mind think
the clouds move much faster

first person singular

*Photography by S.Kanksy


Who me?
I love locution, grammar, etymology... etc
I judge people based on the softness of their toilet paper
Get giddy with new notebooks
Fall fast and hard for viridescent eyes
Horrible at underlining
I synchronize my breathing to the wave of the wiper blades
I sing loudly while driving solo
I was always a puddle jumper
Soaking in the cloudburst droplets
Get wet
Addicted to endorphins

I won’t pass up a Magic Hat 9
Won’t always color in the lines
I want more hours in the day to read
I want to do and be everything
I try
But not hard enough,
I feel

Lovely Creatures

I am the kind of person who believes in true love
and you are the kind of couple who keeps me believing



Thank you for the enchanting New Year's Eve

Rain Train

train in the rain
i watch you sway
it's a delicate
movement of steel ballet
north then south
then slow back
lovely, really to see this display
but i'm late for church
get the fuck outta the way!