glass of single malt whiskey hidden in the bottom drawer

intravenous arrival of sound

not just any sound

breath covers me from head to toes

breath i can breathe easy now

the glaring awareness of our aloneness/separateness

that i wrap so comfortably around myself

not knowing what to do with love sometimes

what do you do with love sometimes

when you suddenly feel like you've heard your voice for the first time

in days months years

until these moments

in between these moments

you numb cloud distract blind with motion plans thoughts words

anything to keep yourself from seeing and hearing

how far away you are

from yourself

▶️⏺

Are you in my dream

Or am I in yours?

Headphones on in a tower records

Boy on a bus

Overexposed colors

Long curtains of hair

Swimming swirling stumbling

Staring at the ceiling

Papa’s mixed tape spins its way into my dreams

Wake to Papa’s breakfast cds today it’s Ottmar

You rewind it all back to songs 1, 3, 7, 10

And I don’t even know where that tape is anymore

And maybe that’s why I linger here for a while

To remember everything like the first time

To feel everything for the first time

Grasping never holding

forever saturday dream

Flashing pictures keep me in a trance
So that my thoughts don’t stand a chance
Glacial perception
Conscious deception
The repulsion is immense

This giant space rock keeps moving along
Under these sheets I don’t feel what’s wrong
Eyes adjust to darkness
Overwhelming starkness
Disguised by each incredible song

Face your fears they say
Just do it they say
I face my fears everyday
Just rising from the hay
Can’t that be enough for today?
Can’t that be enough for today?
Hey.

golden bubbles olden troubles

Golden bubbles
Hiccups
Are part of life
And sometimes of love
Of my life
Is this you?
Swirls and whirl
Pools of destruction and chaos
Is my middle name
What’s in a name
That no one knows but
You are divine.

I said five lines and more
Lines and more
Time to say things
Are fine I guess
I guess a lot these days.

Clock strikes 12 on a Tuesday night
Half the week’s not gone
But half the golden is
Bubbles
In my
Breath
Like air
Hiccups
Are part of life and
Love.
And Wanting
You.