Today

The cat is attacking itself in the mirror.

I can relate. 

Creeping Fox

Update the scotch and whiskey and pour it on my mind

I've been deranged and hungry and it's almost supper time

The nuances are lost like lambs I haven't got the fingerprints to touch

the edge of the glass sitting next to the couch

I'm tired and I'm old and made of gold and rubber stamps

Climbing all the walls at once I haven't got a chance

To leave my home in disrepair to fly into the wind

the hen escapes the henhouse

when the fox comes creeping in

Fairy of Peace

I long to be

The Fairy of Peace 

To move men's hearts to paint canvas

And not draw blood.

Hello Everyone.

 Hello everyone,

So sad that you could be here today in our moments of quiet boredom, numb to the death of civilians and counting the monstrosities on our hands and running out of fingers. So glad that the bombs that dropped today on Youtube fell silently in a forest of chaos, every bit and byte sauntering through the light waves of French physicists and landing on the ground next to the angel who spied on Newton in the apple orchard with a compelling thud. No fear not that these tragedies will last more than a day, we will have more gas lighting coming your way soon. No worries.

The cupboards full of overpriced groceries will bend, giving way to the new dawn of Authority as Democracy is held in a vice grip like a pet cat running out of mice. Our goons, cloaked in ICE gear and full of grenades in their stomachs will blow up peacefully, and you can watch from a distance, on your Apple Watch.

Sincerely yours,

The United States Government

Ms. Pain

She sits on the mountain

free 

at last

I've learned so many things from pain

I need to thank her

Ice Cold Eyes

From an email I received: Authors of fiction may submit sci-fi and fantasy, 1,000 to 8,000 words. They accept stories on most themes, but they are especially interested in, “compelling adventures, folk-retellings, stories of hope in the dark, emotional healing, love of all sorts, environmentalism, and the humanity (or lack of it) among the fantastical and speculative.”

He stared at me with ice cold eyes. Every part of the cave was melting. I hung back in the shadows, not knowing when the growling in my stomach would go away, or if I even wanted it to. I had come here, after all, for a spiritual awakening, but this cave in the middle of God knows where in Mexico was starting to feel like a prison.

Adam was always quiet, and today he was especially, except he was talking with his eyes. The burned into me. There was an anger I had never seen before, usually tempered by a softness, but not this time. I cleared my throat. He scowled.

I looked up at the stalagmites and watched the dripping. All of them dripping together sounded like a percussionist convention, haphazard but oddly comforting. Methodical and hypnotizing, it eclipsed my attention until he spoke.

"We are stuck here, you know," he said. 

Just moments ago, I tried to move a large rock and it created a small avalanche, which created a new obstacle of stones which now blocked our exit. The fall was the height of drama. Then the rocks settled and it was quiet. Minutes seemed like days. I hid, waiting for what was next. 

There was still sunlight coming in over the pile of rocks, which was encouraging. Light could get in. It gave us hope for now. I stepped out of the shadows and into the one sunbeam falling in. 

"I know," I said. 

Radical Acceptance

He wrote me a paper

Bled it into being

Sat upon the salt mine

Turned my envy green

She said her name was Ruby

she poured the champagne

Grey Ghost stomped me silly

I swung where I hanged

Gretchen was the one

who served the beer

that fateful night

when I fell into his stars

Memory of a Mermaid

I saws the photo on my brain, burned in like the tattoo on a sailor

his arm hairy and strong from pulling rope

his face sunburned and hard flesh

calloused palms and eyes as clear as vinegar

My life escaped like a mermaid under the water

pristine in its disappearance

like a memory 

or a dream.

What is heavy?

What is heavy?

Like Coltrane heavy?

No like hammer heavy.

Like anvil heavy?

No more like Simone.

Nina?

Yeah.

Heavier than heavy. Think big.

Mountain.

Planet.

Nah, you know what's heavy?

The weight of who you used to be.

Is it Lost

The monk looked upon the wood columns in the monastery and was confused...

He had a beginner's mind and didn't know where he was.

A student asked him how to find peace, and he replied

"Is it lost?"

Truth Window

 I left it open

and felt the breeze

I fell asleep

and began to dream

the moonlight shone

the silence wept

the stars are gone

I must have slept

I awoke and felt a chill

I pushed down the sash

to hit the sill

The glass was cold

The sun was out

I don't recall

what I dreamt about