the horse is made out of pixels, it pulsates
through a field of bees
kicking up dust from the moths the night before
…hoofprints on the moon.

she is a whole country on its back
swirling with the strength of
a million lovers.
5 hundred thousandthousandthousandthousandthousandthousandthousand
unions
lemon lavender twirled tongue
punctures numbers
-the ones that won’t show their faces!

so let me erase this from my digitized exis—————–

synchronized minds- hard to find.
running my nail on the width of a dime.
put your lips against mine.
let go.
your travels explode on an infinite centerfold
and i do or die lie awake like a body in detox
swaying in treetops…
i stare at the sun, get past the flames
past the white light and look into the heat spots
sun spots/little black dots. knots in my neck/rock pockets.
AND MY PIXELS EXPLODE!
over new york, jersey city, LA, san francisco…
kaua’i…the belt of orion…
then reappear inside the roar of a lion
i was dyyyyyyyyyyyyyying on the inside.

scorned. dead. reborn.
sworn to myself
i was, am, and will be in love
with the idea of love
my heart explodes!! -pixels.
the idea of love suddenly turns ugly, sickels
and cuts gashes into the flesh that i’m clasped in
the bakers are wolves for molasses.
a song has been born
and a song, it has died.

the past is a sandblasted grain
it’s like quinoa rain
…it’s like something i just can’t explain…

tame my ego, my esteem
me. she sets me free when
she decides to leave we
upside down me
in a backwards world
playing marbles with pearls in the sea.

pet the pony goodbye.
gallop away on the part of me that needs to die.
ride your horse through the sky, pegasus breath…

under the last palm tree on the moon,
throwing up…
more like throwing out.
watching fake colors swirl out of my mouth.
so gone. i am gone. gone. gone. gone.
dead to the world that once knew me.
blue cheese penicillin moon beams
rumi.
the poetry of rumi
hopefully soon we meet again in the stars
in the great light
in the fight of my life right now
no words i write down
aren’t knives to the throat of a clown…
cloaked, crowned
in the land where no king resides just i
alone, lonely
for the first time blind.
by design
i crawl in every crater i find
on the dark side
tar tide. asphalt cream pie.
give it here! let me try…

it looks how it smells how it tastes in my eyes.
death the next 3,000 miles.

no words left.
(all things are made out of words)
no breath.
…natives describe what they see,
make your translation
then give it to me
…trying…
i’ll pry at the sky to get free
shaman and monster. shamonster.

dalai lama and mao are the same
-in which they both feel pain
but display it in different ways…

i am a dinosaur
getting in the way of an asteroid,
cacacacacacame from the earth!
representing the earth!!
there.
what the fuck do you want from me?
i am toxic.

…all’s it takes is a whisper
in the form of some roar
and this avalanche becomes yours.

all’s it takes is one flash of your face
and i smile
which cracks to a laugh
and i laugh
until i cry
uncontrollably.