Bodies in Control

Our bodies are graves that we're digging,
Our flesh, coffins we live in,
rots and sloughs off.
It spreads, gangrenous, infecting every bit of us.
Yeah, everything that's us abandons love
to draw closer and closer to a headstone above
that soon, too, will crumble to dust.
Clay pots, fragile like glass lamps blown,
packaged, shipped and drove cross-country
installed and broken, illuminating nothing,
just hands on thighs and eyes on
nickels and dimes, and all things Spring
cast aside as if there were no autumn
as if nothing at all dies
when for most of us that's the meaning of life.
Live. Die. Live. Die. Live. Die.
Dig a whole hole and lie down there alone.
It's your only hope to hold
if your body is your control.
Let go.
Close your eyes.
Clasp your hands.
Lie.
Elope.
Your groom is waiting by the phone.

Flood and Guns (2 Different Things)

There's a flood, and boy, you're chest deep
and might as well be miles from the nearest tree.
What you wouldn't do for a relationship,
God, any kind of ship would be a help at the moment,
I bet you're wishing you were somewhere else
With someone other than your own damn self,
waltzing like 1, 2, 3, rather than in the street,
Trying not to drown beside a levee.

Change is Necessary

The blatant disregard for symmetry will not so easily be forgotten, no. "You need to go out like you came in, ignorantly nakedly full of bliss," never mind that it undermines your existence. This greedy twist of fate or turn of phrase just takes away. It doesn't add a single excuse to stay or change or hope for life worth remembering; just dust.

If you worship symmetry, you're gonna fold like paper.

there to here

there's nobody worth saving,
yet the life-vest exists as well as
the medic-alert necklace, sold lately
on late night tv to people like me
at sixteen in search of squiggly
pornography better than nothing,
better than sleeping, I'm such
a worthless piece of something -
swallowing seafoam and all kinds of everything
or anything I can, oh man,
how did I come from that to who I am?
from 3AM teen to church leadership team,
but even still perfectly imperfect
perfectly seeking perfection.