Connote

I took the elevator

to the rooftop.  I

walked out of the

moving box, opened

the door, held secure

with a huge latch, and

stepped out into the

grandness of it all.  The

immense gray sky lies on

my head as a large hat, the cement

rooftop bore the weight of

my obese body, like my shoes,

and I, intense, stretched

dimensionless, tarried at

the edge of the rooftop.

Your image stood up in

my brain as I studied the

people puny, taking a

pinch of steps on the

sidewalks.  In sync with

the view, my dysthymia

shrunk into a small

crumb.  Ah, yes, that’s

much, much, better.

Redundant Killer

The Heroine

smokes Heroin.

Heroin

destroys  the Heroine.

Hairoine sucks.

Harrowen blows.

Hareowin kills.

Whichever spelling,

Heroin Destroys

the Heroine

who smokes it.
(or shoots it ).

To Write is to Forget...

 You or I?
Or to enthrall
the third eye of
detection?
To realize the
surroundings of the
border of self.
Where a gentle
mist falls on deaf
skin and green and
purple trees confuse
hearing eyes.  For they
sound the same when
swayed by the wind.
Where birds bark and
cats tweet, to the third
eye, it's not
revolutionary,
it's reality in side out.
A child skips by speaking
the language dead, Latin.
The child's innocence,
the nudeness of pallet
of his brain, impressionable
perhaps.  Definable, indefinite.
All the while, the tide rushes into
nothingness, so it effects nothing.
The third eye blinks,
blackness, then what?

Don't Read This

Please, because out of a read
you may make waste. (shit rather)
My aimless prattle and pointless dribble
may cause you to bang your head (on a counter).
How interesting can a 36 year old woman's
life, on disability (the mental kind) and meds be?
Unless it's spruced up a bit...
Say, she made out with a movie star
in her college years,
in her twenties she thought over and over
that she'd kill her father by way of stabbing,
and to wrap it up, in her early thirties
she escapes death by a hairbreath from her own hand.
What if her future buzzes before her, like a humming bird?
What if for every second her future adds up, a dollar collects?
What if her writing improves as experience drips from every word?
What if she base lines, becomes normal, not shining?
I told you not to read this.   

Everyone

Knowone nose.
No1 noz.
0 knoze
Noone knows
gno won nozes
    but me.

Shhhhh.....

Please speak softly to me.
The ache begins like a
bullet to the back of my brain.
Oh, hell, could you turn the
lights down, the light shoots
poisonous darts into my eyeballs.
What? Are you kidding?
Im laughing, hee,hee, as I cry.
Tears of joy, Tears of pain
Both are King of my Domain.
Like water in a light socket
or a boney ass on hard ice,
They are my love(to hate) and my vice.
Ok, calm down.  I need to rest.
It's so vital  to the smallest detail,
that I welcome the lulluby of the darkness.
Still, in my wakefullness, gentle, smoothe hands
caress me down, into sleep by way of sadness.

Restrained

Restrained

Six men strong hold me.

I wither into a lifeless doll.

Yet, I hear someone screaming.

The six men roll the doll

onto a stretcher.

I reclaim my body again.

I wiggle, kick and punch.

One hand, the second hand,

one foot, the other foot.

Four point restraints pinch

my wrists and ankles, I scream bloody hell.

The six men lift the stretcher

off of the ground.

Into a room I’m pushed

with one light and no sound.

I’m alone.  How long this time?

Twenty- four or forty-eight hours?

I’m spinning upwards, spinning.

I’m a propeller, I defy gravity.

I defy six wimps on top of me.

Soon, I’m not restrained.

I’m restored to my right mind.

I soar above the bullshit.

You can restrain my body,

You can’t restrain my mind.