metaphoric mornings
with majesty no greater than
drowsy convenience stores in heat
the sand swallows the worm
and backyard birds remember the sun

distance equals deception
and with detached actions
we whisper stuttering secrets
as we question
this dusty security

following a fertile
pagan machine
we’re dreaming and
hallucinating
in fields of passive delight
and
the scenery of insanity
is scrawled upon
the rhythm of authority

matched mouths,
mating with climax and realism
chaos is wound,
round lips
of skinny infinity
as silent souls
seeking sanctuary,
hide in frequencies
of fabled flesh
forgotten, and complex

chance vs change,
bullet shells
and black feathers,
could we abandon
these obsolete rules
in favor of
a spiritual transition?

playing the long game
we sit in seasonal symmetry
as medicine men
in lazy attire
coalesce and
quietly conspire
to privately inspire
random energies

drifting dreams
map human extremes
and moving characters
interpret keepsakes
of adventures past
as we embrace
formal informality,
challenge the ocean
and write epic poems
on the back of cocktail napkins

grasping wooden bones
and copper cubes
shadows are my friend
as i, summon the dead
on shores of foggy art

and just below the horizon
pious pirates
claim
pornographic poets
in flames
of hungry expectation
waiting for
stolen melodies to arise