Magic Hat #9
Mini Victories & Minor Inconveniences:
the banks embedded thoroughly--
A new month,
turned the calendar, turned the time
time turner tomorrows today is tomorrow today’s time tangled
with the absence of summer breezes, and--
surplus of brews that compliments:
lime, sea salt,
the second purest sand in the world
The key to differentiating
soundless a spinning record,
a broken needle
needless to be fixed.
purple paisley playlists,
trust wrinkled into spilled beer bottles
Let me drink about this...
Scribed on barf bags
With a panoramic scope of the city at sunset,
glistening in all its glory.
vanilla sky cola-
you just need a few words to be poetic
Spiral staircases winding
Slanted fourths architecturally.
It's all a bit off,
sweetly smoothing synchronization.
painted melancholy undertones.
far out in its finest of tunes--
worth the admiration.
Time turn this one out;
a pocket watch.
solidify the foundation
There is a quill of cognition
controlling the poetry,
scribed on scrolls
There's a mental shortcut of backroads,
avoiding the highways of thoughts,
highways projected as troublesome, traffic jammed, toxic, tasking
An empty set:
A paradoxical inverse of infinity, I suppose
Politely put, pushing or pulling
We are reverbing radio feedback-
an echo we've yet to hear back.
we used to not need painted division
four red signs at an intersection telling us in four seconds to go
accelerate, but pause first completely-
cemented in, mirroring the paved suburban streets
speeding to the limit
It’s the long drive down 75S,
hungover as all hell,
stuck in night time traffic,
an exam the next afternoon
you haven’t even studied.
some cry, some eat, some fuck, some watch tv?
Oranges are my apples,
and there's nothing quite like sharing a bottle of wine masked by a Manila envelope
cornered of the R train
We're resolving to not pinpoint a one word definition-
Watching the logical foundation crumble, practicality columns fall down--
your brutally blue eyes inviting me in.
There's a syncopated skip, a hiccup in time
that electric shock of mutually agreeing
& we skipped the words, did we skip the words?
Pressing every letter key sending at the speed of light
scattered sacred souls
where i’m familiar
i’m lost & it is familiar
I’m twenty one
it’s Satellite Skin
an ever-spinning vinyl
the comfort of a midwestern twang
a mildmay memory
modest mouse &-
it’s mind numbing
haven’t i already done this before?
and didn’t i already do this before?
it all gets so familiar
& in the wake of it all
here or there or here.
enjoy the confusion
here or there or here.
the discoveries in the lack-
so motivated, we are-
to skip synchronized upon the stepping stones
lain out for us
don’t tread on dewy grass,
you’ll get your sneakers dirty
under buffalo's hooves,
the cement cracked
telegraphs and printing
as a snocone melted onto--
buy one get one
into the peaty soil,
blooming lilacs, tulips, cherry blossoms
on a somber
sweetened by carnival king from half a millenial in the future;
marked scrupulously on a Sanborn Map,
particles from the
a library buried beneath books where
on hold, we hold in
the brick wall
that caused his amygdala into perspirary chaos
a simple fuck
chemical raid, fruitful
attacks on an unwelcome swarm of-
but fire ants are the true signifier of summer--?
Something into Nothing--
until the foundations forget;
they were built to withhold the strength of hurricanes
a canceled day--
Some tiles from Morocco, the president's lounge, a grandfather timekeeper
Nathaniel Hawthorne's standstill hands--
it rang, signifying--
the standstill nature.
--of time incognito
by our own kind
spilled chloroform in YA,
a treble clef
notebooks filled, notebooks filed
scribed stella blue,
under franklin's tower
[sometimes referred to as---
shuttle over to the park, forget about it for the day]
"There used to be school house on the corner.”
He flipped on BBC,
a special about the Iroquois
chai tea on an apothecary table,
half a millenial from the future.
Originally Written: April 3rd, 2015 4:22am
We are raised under false pretenses.
From our foundations,
we are riddled with
(don't fret over closed doors, for the curtains are on hooks and we can push them aside the frame;
apple pie cools
on the sill of a screenless window).
A polyphonic resonance of good vibrations,
as naivety roars-
reverb of laughter oblivious to what type of happy is indicative of late afternoon hours.
Often times, I am permitted to return to the meadow.
Hopscotching through shapeshifters,
matter is as matter is.
It's the energy that cannot be created or destroyed...
a platform paradox with a simple solution.
Here is where you're supposed to connect, but rush hour train traffic rerouted planned pretenses.
A meander unprecedented-
mindlessly unwinding back to the heartland.
A butterknife ventilation twisted onto a previously pickle jar lid
lightning bugs trapped romantically within,
shimmering subtly at sunset;
lilac scented push pop Yankee Candles.
The planescape of simplicity lies within.
We're raised under false pretenses;
fragile in foundation,
they shatter swiftly.
Barefoot on old circus grounds,
hallucination guidance to the bioluminescence--
You'll get there eventually once you sweep up the shards of virtues mystifying.
Save the parts worth repurposing.
Resalvage your soul.
Dance through the wall,
clearly opaque intoxication:
swift skill for wet grass and distant echoes of hedonism.
The overpass pauses;
Roman numeral two.
We watch the Hotwheels transcend topography.
Sarasota spills into the airport Shell,
signifying a seedy welcome into Bradenton.
ACE, that rave lit empty set.
Play in the northern grass
attesting to the hypocrisy of ecstatic wonder.
Sass the administrative expenses, natural Florida vegetation preserved--
except around the novel investments.
we pedestrian perpendicularly.
promenade onto just being a person,
pitstops of hydration upon tree swings.
A mansion stands before us,
an obscured view discounted ticket.
The final moment where all routes will lead us to the same outcome.
are raised under false pretenses,
that weather away under the elements.
It's our judgement call, eventually, to be delusional in instant gratification
or defiant in our existential narcissism.
Here's the out, take your out--
polarized, you have numbed to
six months of willful suspension,
the jawbridge designated the differentiation.
The flip of a year turningaround behavior, pussyfooting around some feigned bullshit.
Coping mechanism for boredom, manipulation crafted at its finest.
Often, though, I am permitted to return to the meadow
Slam the front door on the present,
I'm already en route to the basement.
An easy out
through the cellar door, swinging mahogany liberation.
Lightshed striding away from an endless train underwater trapped within the same cycle of daily routine.
Taking advantage of the sudden reroute,
we are raised under false pretenses.
Instilled within the bloodstream,
heart skipping a Midwestern charmed beat-
raw in garage noise rock,
climbing the fire escape out of the inferno.
to a new river,
Hudson currents pulling me home.
he said it
un fucking for…
the color of his light
the color of his flame
existing on the same wavelength
THE epitome of unspoken
it. can’t. be. said.
it would be
god damn he-
a glance of understanding
from a far away world
and we knew what it meant
live where you love and love where you live
a bottle cap.
soundwaves of mystery
their discontinued fleaker
a roller coaster fearing-
the root of all knowledge
know all age
the all-mighty text
faded new york times’ articles
a security check survey
decipher it all
history builds destruction
again and again
stuck in is
because the inter-subjectivity scares the senseless away.
the underground experience
high rises rising high higher than
the trails are tangible
it is tasting the color loop
feeling turquoise meet magenta
while watching them fall apart
juxtaposed against the black sky–
the dismal disaster, dreary
a desolate demon
anticipation to escape,
the habits of a true writer form
the birds, the madness
the eighteen degrees nightfall to sunrise to day to night to day to night to evening to night to morning to daybreak to afternoon to dusk to dawn
three o’ clock
three o’ clock
the amusement of a mathematical mistake
again and again and again
just like operating cruise control
the smoke broke into the black sky
high, so high in the slumming foothills
the spacey concentration
a black hole force-field
stumbling shining silver
the glisten of words-
meet me where the three break open
infinity not to the third power
breaking apart to mend together
the mess in minutes
ten seconds pass and the past minutes mend
the magic spark
the miracle working
mutable hydrate into
the blue ice that is the comfort of moonlight
insomnia awake insomnia
syllables soaring speeding circling
dancing through the walls
missing in action
sensible, the tie untied-
all the like and oh the like of it all