this water –

pure hydro glider

in every underground, scholastically

natural surface zines,

pours forth an all out all american energy

surplus needs to get into all the action

with editors and publishers.

it’s a be like

radio tune in all the frequencies –

get listening ears

dancing in words deeply

truly meant like to be like

in traffic jams in a be still

gotta just move in like bridges

forming all necessary rainbows

to know the sun

had a vital purpose,

to get like feel international,

as if it was like a festival.

when I get my check at work,

I don’t even look at it.

it’s direct deposit

to a one way bank account

with meltdown features

the moment I access it.

it’s traumatic to say the least,

hovering …

like near zero balance.

it’s a spreadsheet with a downsized

seems like forever never to recover.

it’s kinda like being in the 1920’s

in a depression in this pennsylvanian town,

though sour grapes in north east

don’t make much good wine.

but I’ve got my fingers

stroking keys in vibrations,

and maybe one day

somebody will give a good hoot

when they see

all I have is this computer

to keep spreading my spreadsheet of life

to one day make a difference

and bring in the jingle. 

her sweet spirit dried –

preserved in my summer swag

in a fresh all get out

appealing look in her wonderful space.

this long awaited

bringing sunlit radiance

from interior decor

is like liquid glass,

so stylish in pennsylvania clear

in realistic bringing

on the oh so cool tones

and leaving a little evening shade

is all this man of silkscreens unlimited

leaving like nectarous flowers from the land down under.

it’s a sunday morning –

up way too early,

but that’s par for the literary juices

when the soul is devoid

of that aura

often all so surrounding

in the visuals of my-

leaving like archway sensual expressions

with heavens down home girl

to soothe mutual traumatic experiences

running around in our spirits

to give us a shot at a life 

in the reformations of heart re-building.

but here i am –

gonna do the usual –

read myself into writing

and think lots of country

making a modern day melody,

wanna make it

like summer breezes

on the only couch that matters

that’s been way tough to get to,

to enjoy the moment

in the thing we do,

for it seems

the void grows

with every passing moment

without you on the outside

to make my skin tingle in your reality.

it’s never good

to say the word love

to the one you care about,

especially when that one has been hurt

just as much as you have

in the course of her life,

because when waiting for too long

to say it and it does come out,

it just means it ends the dream,

because her reality 

isn’t ready to experience

the feel good moment

when you uttered it.

 it’s better to put in on a runaway train

and just howl at the moon

for the only love you will ever get.

at least it leaves you fullfilled

until the next phase

of a full moon.

simply sitting –

like meditating,

are the lines.

each like a leg

stride by stride

in all variable roadways.

it’s like that

at all the stages

of checkpoints in life.

that all inportant kick

to keep pushing

is all that matters.

it can be so grueling,

but marathons are never easy.

breathing in a rhythmic pace

makes finish lines

all the more special.

imagine molten hot-

so bright

that it will attract

anything golden from where ever i am.

there is absolute

squinting that takes place.

my spirit effortless integrated

to reach you like a strong shiny magnet.

this sun leaving archways –

it’s as if i’m floating into the atmosphere.

see a little bit of good energy

for the first time in a long time,

is kinda like dancing

deeper and deeper

from top to the bottom –

completely unaware

that the words poured upon the page.