De' Ja' Vu

Seeing your face
awashed in yellow halos
would the strike of that feeling
like an arrow piercing my thoughts
a midsummer sunshine peeling off
old skin
take flight in my head again-
would your feet in sandals
melt my exterior mask,
making me draw you, paint you,
write you, dream you
for years after again?

With one glimpse,
would that false web
of enthrallment
cage me
lingering until every scent
of you has been washed off again?

My falling star
was the twinkle in your eyes
and after every storm is taken,
every scent washed away
would my thoughts scream
anarchy-

After years
with one glimpse
would I know
what to say
again

Merry Christmas Hosebags

Merry Christmas to all my dear and loved. I wish to you the best the holidays has to offer. Merry Christmas to the taxi driver that tried to kill me in the walmart parking lot, the old biddy that grabbed those slippers right out of my hands. The douche who got 10 bucks out of me because he was deaf. (He heard me when I honked at him to move his mobile buggy full of beer cans). The parent at the 5th grade Christmas party who droned on about her husbands dually. That bitch had a Hemi. The lost boy who couldn't remember where he lived and took us all over town in search of his guardian's friend's uncle's car. The cashier that closed the lane after all my shit was on the conveyer belt. And most of all.... Merry Christmas Jennie.

Lullaby (pt.2)

I knew I had to get out of here. I just didn't know where? I step out from under the tree timidly. Baby steps, I tell myself summoning what courage I don't have. I tip toe to avoid the opalesque colored puddles left from the down pour, following a path that lead directly into the fog. It has to lead somewhere I think to myself and keep stepping. The terrain is rocky and covered with mossy roots. I loose my footing and the next thing I remember is rolling down a revene. I am unable to grasp anything on the way down. Just as I plunge over the edge I grab a thick root or vine. I keep clawing my way up the slimy pole. I couldn't tell you what was below me. I didn't stick around to find out. I continue to grasp at anything that resembled solid ground, until I could swing my foot up onto the edge and get the hell outta there. I look down wincing at the gurgling, bubbling bog. Damn that was close. A cold shiver overcomes me and my breath is visibly colder now. I am panicked now, I don't mind telling you fine people. My teeth are clattering and I realize it is raining again. I pull the sleeves of my torn and tattered jacket as far over my hands as I can. The rain feels sort of acidic and and burns stightly on my face. I duck under a patch of scrub brush and wait again. This time I realize suddenly that I am not alone. I have indeed come face to face with the creature the bird foretold.

To be cont...