Alone At Last

All of my mornings
are such perfect mornings to
wake up to your eyes.

if we are lonely
it might be because
          we let go too soon
          or hung on too long
          maybe
          we walked too far or
          we didn’t walk far enough or
          we should have run
          or stood still
          either
          we asked the wrong question
          or planted the wrong answer
          and winds soothe
          when they should be tearing
          and night teases
          when it should come strong
          and we are lonely
          together apart together away
          we are needing to give
          as much as we are needing to get
if we are lonely
it might be because
          there is not one thing
          that reaches so far
          nor stretches so wide
          as empty
          as empty.

How far is true
enough?
How far into the
earth
can vision go and
still be

love? Isn’t the
honesty
of things where they
resist,
where only the wind
can bend them

back, the real weather,
not our
desire hissing Tell me
your parts
that I may understand
your body,

your story. Which is why
we have
characters and the knife
of a plot
to wade through this
current. Now

it’s blossoms
back to back
through the orchard.
A surf
of tenderness. There is
no deep

enough. For what we want
to take
inside of us, whole orchard,
color,
name, scent, symbol, raw
pale

blossoms, wet black
arms there is
no deep enough.

I’m no longer in love
with the sand that makes the pearl,

or anything grainy
that hardens its beauty

by passing through pain.
Bone revisits the porous soil

and presses itself into coal.
Whole colonies of canaries

refuse to return from that mine.
Is there anything yellower

than their dark shaft of regret?
The past is another country,

all its cities forbidden,
their borders closed to you

on every side, while here
God has many mansions,

all too small to live in.
When I inherit his palace,

I’ll take my moat everywhere,
making difficult any crossing.

threeineachside:

mysteriuminiquitatis:

Black Flag | Shed Reading (Rattus Norvegicus) 

I am Rattus Norvegicus. I’m sitting in some shit-hole rat’s nest and I’m a little angry. I wanted to be a talk show host not a rat. You men think you have it bad with women? I’ve got it a lot worse let me tell you. What am I gonna say to some nice looking girl who I want to meet? I can tread water for over 36 hours? I can chew through lead pipes and cinderblocks? I can run on telephone wires?! And what if I do get the girl home? Can’t fit her though the door, it’s too small. Yeah I got a lot of girls. How’d you like to have a tail that went through your body to drag around all the time? Not my idea of fun by a long shot. And do you see the neighborhoods that I’m forced to live in? Those people live like pigs! Can’t catch the subway they haven’t built it yet. Can’t catch the up-town bus I can’t reach the step up. Hey taxi! And everyone, Wants to kill me, Feed me drugs and poison, Put electrodes in my head and make me run on treadmills, Dissect, bisect, and defect me. Biome, blind, mane and tame me. Are you folks crazy?! You never invite me to your parties as if I would really wanna go anyhow. Have you ever asked me to go to a movie? How about bowling? You ever seen a rat cry? I got tears. And I have a heart and I got brains. If you could just see past the fur, I think that you would see, that I’m a lot like you.

(via justasquaregoingnowhere)