An itemized list of the things you would like to destroy

I can't think of anything today though. Let's rock!



Let's rock inside a neutrino detector and break half of it! Let's go!

Lionized, my face bleeding

Friendship like a directed pulse
edging me on into life,
just a small gap further each day
until I remember
the sounds of the sun
against your face, and mine.
Looking into windows for a change,
the novelty of not blacking them up
with blinds and barrages of unkind words
for people that barely scraped into my life
and barely just scraped out.
The sunshine of you, light limbs bristling
and whispering intricate disasters
along the crinkled faultlines of a stupid smile.
(Mine, this time and strange).
Small perfects, delights in the distances,
the only things I could ever have had.

The ways you feel like falling into a snowdrift and dying laughing and dying really because everything ended up vibrating perfectly perfectly just for the minutes you needed. A happy man, the world of the happy man is not the world of the sick man. And I'm not the same because the things of which I'm composed flutter into and out of me like people shift into and out of my life, which is not the same as itself even though it is continuous. What kind of world is this, then? The world of the happy man is not the world of the sick man, and the world of mine when it's the world with you along the hem of it is not the world I'm used to. And I mean that decorous and correct.