cossayuna

I am running outside of me the pores in my skin flow as conduits from this soul. I am flowing out of my body now. not an end but  the end of the beginning my stomach is finding its way to the outside of me through any orifice that will work at this age. With much relief soon to rise perhaps even to the milky way or way beyond where the angels are, where my departed loves lie my brains slowly ends up on the outside my ears are ringing with the passage of lives that have bound me to this world my dreams become the sidewalk and foundations that I will build on my tongue a highway where so many, too many words of ha

My love the ocean Sweet the time on your shore sand pulled out from beneath my feet you ebbed I flowed the spray upon my face was mist upon yours when the first drops came you dashed into them like there would be no more and you reveled at my knees and I waited for the roar the wave upon this, my shore oh those many seamen washed clean by you and broken and eaten diffused to become only you constant water elemental truth I too will lay in your placenta swim in your tide cry in your fountain and die in your time so What is this death? But a new life perchance a test of belief a look of the future a taste

I feel dead already My rough hands are dead my mouth you never really kiss as well a dead hole I can not touch you right often enough to even make it worth while. I never could dance except when I said, ‘to hell with you’ Then I danced. I feel dead already if feeling is a property of those nicely put who have crossed over I prefer , dead. Who would want to kiss a corpse? warm but a corpse, you could use my rough and scared hands as sandpaper to hone that bright young star that is waiting in the wings till he a little more free than you want him to be dances out the door Oh I am not dead already

Chopping mid December ice where plows had stacked it at the bottom of the drive waiting for a dumb fool to try and remove GOD grabbed my heart  twisted laid me low there along the road. my head between her hands her cheek to mine God whispered my name This is not how it was to be, better in the garden amongst the tomatoes, or along the trail where new fallen snow lent a hint of  heaven NOT here next to the highway not for all the uncaring world to see just another ice encrusted limb upon the ground