I died in Winter, was born again in the Spring, and died once more in the Summer.

Act I
The stage is set
White Wisconsin snow turning the landscape into grey Wisconsin Winter
Darkness
The snow, the cold snow;
Falls from above continuously
Piles high upon the lawns
Packs tight among the concrete and feet
I watch it fall
I watch this transformation from behind the gaping mouth of the garage door
Winter coat bundled tightly around me as I'm slumped in a folding chair
Preparing the Ritual
Madness Madness Madness
Inhale

Act II
"A mirror is your best friend.", I mumble as I watch you snort three consecutive lines of white powder off the reflective surface. "Did you say something?", You ask wiping residue from your beautifully shaped nose. "Nothing important. The snow is melting.", I reply. We sit silent for longer than a moment and finally you break it. "Why do you Love the drugs?"
"Do you mean besides it being fun?"
"Of course, that's a given. I asked why you Love them not enjoy them."
I look like I think hard about the question as I pick up my coffee mug and take a sip, looking reflective, but of course I already know the answer right away.
"Because there is no reason for this life, there is no eventual pay off after you die. Therefore, life is a lot of work for pretty much nothing. I guess you could call me a hedonist but it just aides in putting up with everything."
As I'm finishing my sad little speech, I take note that you are no longer there.
"You never were.", I remark to the empty room as I put the pipe to my mouth and try to forget I ever Loved you.

Act III
Exhale
My breath is heard within my head as I stare at the vibrant pastels of this sickened Illinois Summer
The smoke leaves my lungs and moves with the breeze
It's time here is no more meaningful or stimulating than anything else
I've walked through a million spider webs
None slow me down unless I allow them
The Grass. The Clouds. The River.
They all call to me
Just as the dirt below me whispers
How it always does
Selling me, telling me not to stay

Fire(d)

Paranoia holds me to the brink of destruction
Keeping me close to the flames, forcing me to fan my own insanity
"Quickly! Leave town now before anyone notices!"
Saving face, losing hope, gaining nothing, forgetting trust
I am Fire
I will consume without discretion
No matter who it hurts
No matter how fast I burn out
Fire cannot stop itself
Just weep as it burns down an honest man's house
Be secretive
Communicate to the world only through codes and messages in bottles
I am alone, an Island standing by itself
No water or food
Nothing the fires can destroy

Awakened (The Sickness Is No Longer Dormant)

Brown dead heads hide behind the brilliant yellows that stand out like a curtain call
Lonesomely alone again in the flower box bearing the rays of the day
Courtesy calls quickly calculated to excuse one's self from work today, "You see I don't want you getting sick. You're welcome actually."
While later long showers are taken and coffee drank in excess and breakfast eaten with the newspaper read
But there's no news I want to know of
Not today
Royal purple undertones brighten the day, the majestic early morning day after a short fungal conversation
While I drink my coffee and lonesome mothers converse in the background
The sexy bicyclist turns me on with her outfit and independence from fossil fuels
Where She HAS to be, I don't know but it's probably not too pressing
Golden Golden Golden is the moment removed from others
The World is not an object but many put together
That is why the World is broken when Her children are orphaned and shoeless and starving in the streets of societal expectations
Do not go forth
But BE where you are

Extinguish Me

Slow to gain speed, but retaining it once achieved it is a driving force in the night. We are all orphaned children of society, huddled around the fire shaking from the cold and the madness. Communion gratefully passed around on glass alters to our own Gods. Our own Demons. The night brings a feeling of safety, hiding us from those who fear, as we crawl on our hands and knees from daily shelter. Planted in the grass or standing one's ground, saving face while the earth spins and rotates for those with eyes that see. "Let me walk free!" He shouts while none inhibit him let alone bat an eye as he walks into the tree line, not to be seen until an entire Dylan album later. Open fields for chasing one another and one another's dreams and one another's Love, not to catch them but for the chase itself. You've already exposed yourself completely to me, won't you sing for me? Consume every resource without discretion. Let us be fire.

Release

Winning isn't what's important
I always did finish second
If at all

I want to read your body like brail
My scarred finger tips translating every discreet message
Disaster prevented, ear to the surface as if a Dead Apache

Living symbols with Dead symbolism
One explosion follows another; The shock wave builds
White knuckles. My fist, full.

Release.

I Can't Tell You The Secret, Only Describe It

The Truth, when found, is not earth shattering nor is it complex but it is remarkable and so simple it takes a child to truly know it. But isn't it children who experience true uninhibited joy? That rock you now idly kick, as you pass the time and pass the beauty around you, was a part of something much larger and monumental than yourself a millennia before you were ever thought of. I sigh but not in sorrow, but in Love of the unfathomable beauty the Mother has provided. How simple yet complex all at the same. The truth is so simple it can be forgotten. Why must one plan for the future? Do you think the Bird, the Doe, the Tree, the Weed, the Mosquito make plans for tomorrow? Just as they all live and die, we all live and die.

Texture

Hard wood grain, artificially marked a brown that does not evoke Earthy emotions
I drag my scarred and broken hands across the surface of the scarred and broken timber, long felled by perhaps another lost generation

Our Mother(Nature)'s Room

Warm acidic karmic bliss flows from my midsection into the roughage and foliage,
The unseen unnecessarily said necessary part of the water cycle.
Taking nourishment and energy and work and dollar bills(Later to be taxed by the Father) from the Mother as she asks nothing,
Only to have spent it all on gambling and debauchery chasing while tea drunk indoors indoors indoors
Only to return outdoors into the room of the Mother that fits us all perfectly, only to piss upon it all

Wooden

The Earth takes back the forgotten wooden bench,
left damned to rot, to take on water and vines and graffiti.
The Earth takes it back, it's Brother's rooted next to it clinging up and down the frame work.
Left to be shit on by the birds who couldn't imagine being chained to one location
Or
Are they placing their own social statement over the long taxed copy of a copy of a copy man made corporation made graffiti, that one who knows not to read knows MEANS nothing?
This is why I do not plunge my knife into it's wooden grain textured surface, for certain defacement is only desperate nothing.
The green, The green of the River, The green of the forest, The green stands out as I sit upon the bench that has seen hell
And is still being reclaimed by our Mother.

Dialogue With My Dark Brother

"Isn't it sad?", Mike says looking at everything but me. Sitting at a four person table, the two of us sit diagonally across from each other. Some nameless elevator music plays above us here in Starbucks.
I answer back, staring at my empty plastic cup,"Is what sad? The fact that we're in a Starbucks right now or that this town closed down the last non-corporate coffee shop?" When I say 'this town' there is a certain bitterness, because I do not speak of the township government but the town as an organism. This old town of mine is no longer mine and it's infected.
"Well yes, there's that." Mike says to me with a slight scoff in my direction. "But isn't it sad that it's more socially acceptable to Fuck around than to ask someone to hold you so that you can weep?" The rings of condensation on the table are what hold both of our gazes but not our attention.
"Are you saying you want me to hold you, Mike?" I say still looking at the moist rings on the wood grain.
"Reilly. I've already go ahold of you."

Third Person

A cruel trickster has stolen the floor beneath me with charm and poise right before my eyes
She will see the rain with reluctance one day and have naught but the slightest wish for drought
We'll fool them all and take gold from the well whilst they sleep
Just think like this. Just, do it.
Now, dry your eyes.
Maybe see what conversation the spores can hold when given the floor
Glamor and fame are the name of the game but wishes and riches stitch the paper for the misses.
Coffee in a children's cup
Sinisterly sip and feel your pulse raise as the bitter liquid warms your young esophagus
Feel control. Feel no control. Feel.
I need to feel.
Connect, but the wires are frayed.
Just make contact.
That. Is. All.

Curve Like a Q

Do you want to bear his christian child?
We need more Sons to bear our names and our crosses
Imperialistic dogma rules the land and the seas, the uteruses
More troops on the ground, but not to work the land or farm the crops
Karmic revolution will have no last man alive but a last Woman
The last Woman, to clean up after the Men are done
Tell me my name and now take it with you
Disguising any past accomplishments with male valor
The debt and the blood and the dirt is on our hands
While all the while we're watched with wringing hands and nervous eyes
A hostage crisis. Women and children first.
Femininity Femininity Femininity
Wrap the world in your arms and don't let go until it's fallen into a deep trusting slumber
Tell them what is best but force nothing upon anyone
Guide but do not command
Love like a Mother.

45 Degrees

Ice and glass clink clink clink with each interaction and gesture
None held back, never restrained. Not. In. These. Moments.
Falling with no branches to hit on the way down
The room moves around me and introduces all the one and the one to all
tip back the bottle and let that poison fill your belly
Feel the warmth grow within and glow like an expecting mother
I've caught the killer within me, but what are you to do with the convicted?
Tip back the bottle. Blink Wink Think Clink Go the movements and another life and another lie is ruined.
We've won the race but we haven't realized the finish line is long behind us.
Along, with the setting Sun.