Invisible Man

I wasn’t there
For myself
I was there
For the moment

When you needed proof
When you needed
A hammer to bring down

So I let you use me

Drove
Parked
Waited
Watched you get out
And confront my past

My proud passenger
“Right, Jake?”

Point to me.

Thumbs up as I sip
A cold brew, thinking
Of all the petty memories

Let it go
Run away

Like it always does

You’re stronger than it is
And I’m more invisible
Than I ever
Was

Happily
Spitefully

Rightfully

Sinnesloschen

Olympia October
In
Puyallup in April

It’s all senseless

We’re both passengers
In a seasonal vehicle

Each sidewalk step
Kicks up loose pieces
Of eroded concrete gravel

Skittering down sparsely
Crowded stalking streets

Oly is fearless except
When she’s not

Vulnerability is a constant

Olympia might be corroding
But she’s also consumed

By things exhumed beneath
The asphalt and grass
Thoughts permeating through
The nightlife

Moons burning to black
Ashes in our mouths
And the smoke billows
To a cloudless sky

While we speak we lie
That we’re both not
Hiding ulterior
Motives

Ambivalent mist
Floats thick, miles away

Oly October

Just like the city, she’s
different.

Not off, like the way you feel
walking down certain streets
downtown in the capitol city,
but different. A new flavor
of a coffee from Burial Grounds.

A book you never saw before,
In Bower’s library.

Indeed, a store or spot
that you never really had
visited yet, even through what
you’ve said.

You’ve been “up and down this place,
and know it like the back of
the hand”. For certain, but even
then no history can make up
for raw exploring. Don’t you
love it here?

You couldn’t count every
falling leaf in October
just like you could never
know what you don’t know
about your favorite city.

You have to find out. Be as
vulnerable as you first were,
when you were afraid of getting
mugged that one time on
3rd Street, and how uncertain
it felt to be out at night like
that for the first time.

You have to find out.

News – Miss Information Issues Statement on Dazzle Figures

Day 1,253 – The Administration issued a statement today regarding the people who don’t exist which seem to be roaming the streets.

They say the key word in that sentence is “seem”, as Miss Information holds fast that the dazzle-painted figures moving around parts of downtown are nothing to be afraid of, and in fact aren’t there at all.

This comes in the wake of a month-long stretch where Mayor Dean has stayed silent on the number of sightings reported in by locals.

Miss Information came forward and declared, “After much scrutiny, we have determined that the figures must have escaped Destiny, or have come from Somewhere Else. Therefore, they do not exist yet, if they are going to exist at all, and should be disregarded. They can cause no harm.”

Some have reported the figures talking gibberish, as well as conjugating entire sentences about where they are from. So far, none of these entities have said anything about anything that has happened, and instead reference events that seemingly haven’t yet.

We’ll update as the matter continues.

Panic

It’s not about the shot
It’s about the journey

Every riverbank trail
Every cold clearing
That fades
Into forest

Fog lying low
Brisk noontime throe

Looking into the sky
Being stared back at
By abyssal
Overcast

Why has this
Come to pass?

Looking back
At the
Mountain pass

Did these rocks and trees
Grow here to fear me?
Roots in the riverbeds
Turned to driftwood clay

This pass will know
My veiled face

Pathfinder’s tracks
In this place
Stay stratified
Where they’re made

Dug up dirt
Trembles before
This spirit
Of frostbite

Steps rift
Frozen soil

Eating away
At this wintry domain
In misted isolation
Alone in havoc action

Lungs shocked
By sub-zero air
Blood sluggish
Lashes shot

Each moment a panic
An otherworld

Each shot
A viscous copper
As the hills
Pass over me

Following the trail
Left behind
By my
Quarry

Can see stoic moss
Trampled upon

Branches snapped
In haste

I will not make
Its same mistakes

Its blood on my blade
My bite will soon taste

The pass quivers again
Knowing I am here
I trespass, yet this
Mountain should fear

A spectre of cold blood
Floating over steps
Of a misnomer prey
Fleeing

An abyssal monster
The size of man

Stalking among
The overcast day

Trixie

Didn’t expect this
Red lipped
Buttoned up
Monologue
And strip on stage

Weird to think I know you
Strange to be a party to
This cold opening
Display of… fragility?

Every color of the rainbow
Cradling the panties worn
Of a volunteer who soon
Removes the lacy bra
That was left behind

Leaving behind stickers
And imagination

Making the most of those
Assets, and moving
For all that movement
Could be worth on stage

Cult appeal so surface
It fucked its way
Across almost
Every continent

Making sex so undervalued
By wanton display
To what end, I wonder
But I don’t wonder for long

The show has begun

And if I didn’t know yet
This starting pistol shot
Was what got
Everyone’s attention

Adrift Key

Roses in our old beds
Laying unmade
Are only wilting
While they rest

And the ones we tend to
Grow mature

Sand is only blacker
The closer to the coast
Tightly packed beach
In between your toes

Lit by a sunset
Closing down the world
It’s time to go home
It’s time to go home

To a tent
To a car
To a house
To a home

To sweet music, jokes,
And a family your own

Sand between your toes
On a border of two states
Cape Disappointment
A bridge between two worlds

We all walked to that wedding
But came back so different

Even my eyes, I know
Were drunk by color
As the sun set again
That night

Even my back
Felt less tight
Sleeping on the ground
With the person I love

Wide shots
Tighter view
Optical zoom
Shutters and apertures

All about the capture
All about the love
Old beds made in harsher weather
New beds blooming above

For what better way to express it
Than to call something your home?

Lay beside your thorns
Your flaws and dreams
Your hopeful things
And let rest your woes

You have found us
And you have found me

Let’s pitch our tent
And fall asleep

Beneath the stars
Within earshot
Of Pacific waves
Crashing that way

We’ll wake up tomorrow
And it’ll all be
Different
Again

Different again

Everything is changing

Nothing untouched
By the march of time
And time marches on

We’re just one family
Among a world of families
And homes
And love

But you’re mine
And that’s all
In this world
That matters to me

Antennae With Rays

antennae

Sony Alpha 6300, f/5, 1/3200, ISO-100, 42mm. 10/4/2018 3:46 PM.

This photo was taken through a car window. I’m surprised it turned out as well as it did, frankly.

Mother Tongues

I’m a wordsmith
But in Arabic
I don’t know
How to speak

Couldn’t find myself
To your home
Without stumbling
Through language

But no one at the airport
Would know I’m a poet
Nor would a shopkeep
Suspect me in English

Not now, at least
Do I know your tongue
But someday I will know
And it will lash me free