unrequited

last night within a forest

that knew it is not eternal

you lead the way

this morning, from my touch,

you pulled away

 

i unglued, shoed

conjoined with sidewalks

under a dawn of gray

 

l.a.

no matter what time of night or day

can be a very lonely place

 

wary, hardened

some convicted, some pardoned

we ignore each other

pretending millions don’t exist

 

like you pretended this morning

so i left you with nothing

but the stain of my seed in latex

in the trash

because that’s all it

and i were worth to you

 

i stand in a long line

at a mexican food truck

famous for their breakfast burritos

i, of course, get a dozen

carne asada tacos

eat two

 

hand the rest to

two of los angeles’ homeless guests

that everyone walks by

and ignores

while they ask,

“brother, can you spare a dime?”

 

i molt

and the feather’s fall from my flesh

without passing on the wisdom

to not fly too close to the sun

although there would be no one

to circle and circle

searching for me

 

because

after all

the title of the book is

bulfinch’s mythology

 

can’t you see

that nothing was seen

among what we saw

except the mammal that pawed

at the dirt

searching for something that wasn’t there

 

then continued its sojourn

within the forest that knows it’s not eternal

to succor instinctual sustenance

our so called higher consciousness

claims separates us from lower life forms

 

but as i look at the sociology of society

i do not see enlightenment

just mammals pawing at the dirt

without knowing what might be there

just seeking sustenance for the solitary

which is easier than proving your worth

to the tribe

 

***

 

 

 

solos

washington blvd

the sounds of the ocean

i’ve left behind

are mimicked by passing traffic

 

a man tries to hand me a religious tract

while asking if i know where i am going

 

i answer,

“in quibus qula nihil est ultra absque me

non est perceptiuum, ut ubi ego sum,

illic sit apud umnes est”

 

if he had called me a solopist

i would have taken the tract

discussion with a knowledgeable  

individual is all i really ask

 

but he just stared

and i really didn’t care

 

i pulled out my flask

looked him in the eyes

as i took a swig

never losing eye contact

i then took out my smokes

and lit one

 

he said

“god bless you sir”

ewe, the last word

i guess he won

 

i walk on

say to myself

that was fun

 

select new order’s true faith

and half dance, half walk

down the sidewalk

situated on the side

of washington blvd

 

***

presentism

(The course of true love never did run smooth. – William Shakespeare)

 

the morning fare is salty air

standing at the top of your stairs

which lead to your dwelling place

my fingers fashioned on your face

 

i say goodbye, last night we tried

to sojourn to the satisfied

i breech the beach just within reach

while waves wash the shores of long beach

 

i met you last night before dusk

defenses shucked like a corn’s husk

but morning’s weaker than the night

no foundation, just a flight

 

red solo cup filled with beer

a cigarette and all i hear

are waves doing what all waves do

something so old and nothing new

 

so noisy that i do not hear

bare feet on sand drawing near

and when your stride is by my side

inside out i cannot hide

 

from the meaning of this gesture

love’s a vessel without vesture

red solo cup with its remains

you take from me and quickly drain

 

back of your head, hand in your hair

i pull you close in salty air

penetrate you with my tongue

forgetting we’re no longer young

 

dust and rust create mistrust

but at this age its love or bust

shifting gears without a handle

back to your place to get sandals

 

no shirt, no shoes, no service

we coalesce with compliance

breakfast plates and mimosas

tiny table, closeness thereof

 

i take the napkin from your lip

a pen from the waiter’s hip

with ink i print on napkin lint

“can what breaks the heart be a splint?”

 

you read my words unsaid but heard

say, “pay the check, let’s transfer”

then take my hand and say to me

“walk with me back to the sea”

 

upon the sand where we both sit

passing my flask after each hit

on your phone go to spotify

skylar grey’s “i love the way you lie”

 

no answer to my question

love’s mistake is in possession

no endowment in atonement

hold my hand within this moment

 

***

 

 

 

 

impuissant idolatry

“Hell is empty and all the devils are here.” – William Shakespeare

 

whiskey warming my world

it may still be hot at 11 p.m.

but the concrete façade of los angeles

is always cold

even though i’m told

i should put forth positive vibes

to create a consciousness of comfort

 

self-emanation is meaningless

whatever does happen

is because it can happen

the laws of physics linger

even among ley lines

 

neon lights flashing

“magic inside”

i pass by in stride

pass the meditating yogis

the high dollar strip clubs

the dive bars

i’m not going far

l.a. is like a magnet

it won’t let me leave

 

waiting for the “don’t walk” to change

a group of youth are talking

they need to get home and sleep

so they can wake up early

to go hiking

kids today

whatever happened to

sex, drugs and rock and roll

 

i was suppose to be somewhere tonight

notified with an amplified

wouldn’t be there

now i share a cigarette with

the dark streets of decay

i would bow my head and pray

but in l.a.

you never take your eyes

off your surroundings

it’s in the safety booklet

they make you sign

when you’re old enough to walk

 

everyone’s worried about brain cells

that are destroyed by excess

but i want to eradicate all memory

clean the slate

as long as i don’t have to relearn

there is no such thing as fate

or repatriate to

the dark streets of decay

but can still say

the gods are silent

because they don’t exist

although i also hate when science

tries to take up the void of meaning

with what their facts reveal

 

but enough of words

if you haven’t realized yet

that everything but this moment

is meaningless

there is nothing i can do for you

 

misconstrue

if that’s what you need to do

i’ll take a swig

light a cig

wear this song i’m listening to

like adam without a fig leaf

before the fall

till i am all and nothing

but arms extended at the edge

dropping from the ledge

without faith that the wind

will carry my weight

as a salvatory solution

from the juxtaposition of

the jagged rocks below

 

***

 

 

my wiring only conducts electricity of non-conductive intensity

don’t really know the meaning of your montage

i’m in a garage

and you’re talking

as if talking is an accomplishment

and i can’t help but see your talking

as a need

to garner my approval

 

i open up two beers

hand you one

light two cigarettes

and hand you one

select the song

river of deceit

by mad season

on my phone

 

yet you keep talking

as if talking

is an accomplishment

 

dogs are dancing in the dirty yard

my approval isn’t hard

you just need to quit talking

 

there is no sign on this street

which says

the journey’s ended

you have arrived

 

i can’t show you how to survive

cause i’m no longer searching

 

there just is

and then there isn’t

and that’s all there ever was

without a because

 

your harshing my buzz

with your need

there are no trees inside a yellow forest

deforestation is the only way

to unclutter your mind

until there is nothing left to share

except an “i don’t care”

because chatter about consequential matters

is just sifting through the soil

such toil

searching for a magnification of your mind

you never find

and so you keep talking

to someone who prefers

unfertilized soil

there is no reason to re-grow the forest

desolation is the only way to unburden your mind

 

not this endless talking

and attention seeking

that’s reeking

of reasons why

you can’t be satisfied

with situational you

to get what is due

as if something is forthcoming

before you can accept

the thoughts others planted

in your soil

as their weeds coiled around your roots

when they don’t even know

what the fuck they are talking about

 

i changed that channel long ago

until a slow mellow groove is all i know

 

and how bored i am with

your existential crisis

that slices into a non-existent

metaphysical mud pie

 

i should have just stayed home

drank alone

until it was time to roam

the dark streets of decay

 

***

 

consciousness conquers when there are no co-authors

 

paradigms

         or how i got to strawberry fields without lsd

 

          (there is no truth; there is only perception – gustave falubert)

 

the beach sand trickles through my hand

the moon has forgotten its purpose

waves should wash ashore, usurp us

laws of physics without command

 

i’m not on drugs i just perceive

figment moon imagination

stillness steals all causation

no such thing as reality

 

i leave the beach like microfiche

forgotten basement of my mind

there’s nothing there i need to find

tangibles are a blood sucking leech

 

draining the things that are not there

you believe what you see is real

foundation build from what’s revealed

then let it make you fucking care

 

nothing exists, senses deceive

you determine what is real

all the things you’re supposed to feel

unlearn the learn and just be free

 

***

 

oh, and by the way, you don’t exist