And

No one knows where to go.
No one in the world.
In the old days, it was up or down
Now it's sideways
and backwards
and through
and around
and under.
And no one has any clue as to what's the best way.
And no one knows where the hell to look
And we all wonder where our lovers are
We all wonder where the time has gone
And we all fly someone else's airplane
and it only goes under
We forget that the elevator goes up
and the bicycle goes sideways
And we realize we want the bicycle,
but the airplane is cozy
And who would give that up?
So we watch the bicycle
as we dip under
and under
and we never go through
and we never find lovers who go sideways
And we never go around
and we never learn about the latter.
And we pout in our planes.
And we remain below.
And we'll never know.
Only below.

where

I felt blank working all day.
No tornadoes or fireworks.
It was dust,
A taupe canvas and a doctor's waiting room.
I didn't see any sun or any color
I didn't think about third-world countries
I didn't think about love or new life.
No philosophy
No jumping jacks
No gypsies
No music.

I saw nothing
I thought nothing
I was nothing.


Damnit, there's got to be more.

middle

I don't have the highest of hopes lately.
They rest in a middle grey area
a little fog above my head
I don't know where I'm going
Few things are in focus
like a shitty camera
There are a few things piecing me together at this time
But as far as careers
money
a "life"
I haven't got a clue.
So I'll just linger in this fog
and wait for a strong gust of wind to sweep it away
Whatev.
It's not the time to be wishing it away
or being jealous of blue sky kids.
It's the time to wait it out
Maybe play with it a little,
paint it,
and just await its departure.
It's better than a hurricane.

sins.

After the string was all tangled in knots
I pulled it ,
knowing
it would only tighten the twists
knowing that the more I pulled
the harder it'd be.
but I kept pulling.
Sometimes I would half-heartedly try undoing a loop
but then I'd retie it.
And then I would pull.
I would make more knots
and I would pull them harder.
Sometimes I would only tell them to untangle
somewhat expecting them to jump through each other
and create a solution.
The string can't move though.
I know this.
Yet here I was,
willing it to untie.
Hoping it would.
Nothing.
There I would sit
with the mess in my lap.
My fingers fumbling like bear paws.
a maze.
a trap.
Complicated.
Continuously pulling
Continuously reknotting.
Creating havoc upon havoc.

with but one solution. one houdini.