Feb. 18, 2022

Magic Hat #9
Mini Victories & Minor Inconveniences:
the banks embedded thoroughly--
Useless Information.

A new month,
turned the calendar, turned the time
time turner tomorrows today is tomorrow today’s time tangled
tempting time
temps time

with the absence of summer breezes, and--
surplus of brews that compliments:
lime, sea salt,
the second purest sand in the world

A siesta, much deserved
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...
Writer's writing,
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

Playful wisdom,
Wizardry wit--
Enchanted whirlwinds.
Spiral staircases winding
Slanted fourths architecturally.

It's all a bit off,
Esoterically eccentric.
Hauntingly beautiful,
sweetly smoothing synchronization.

charmingly melodic
painted melancholy undertones.

Abstractedly adjacent,
far out in its finest of tunes--
the surrealism,
worth the admiration.

Time turn this one out;
a pocket watch.
Brass roots,
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.

cobblestone unmarked,
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-
so engrained
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
thoughts incomplete--
sputtering sparks
so subtly
scattered sacred souls

where i’m familiar
i’m lost
i’m lost & it is familiar

i’m twenty
it’s summer
it’s sunrise
it’s Sugaree

I’m twenty one
it’s summer
it’s sunrise
it’s Satellite Skin

an ever-spinning vinyl
the comfort of a midwestern twang
a mildmay memory
modest mouse &-

i’m awake
i’m exhausted
i’m energized
i’m alive

it’s miserable
it’s mesmerizing
it’s mind numbing
it’s monotonic

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
i’m lost
i’m here
here or there or here.

but i
enjoy the confusion
here or there or here.
the discoveries in the lack-
of direction

so motivated, we are-
the young
to skip synchronized upon the stepping stones
lain out for us

don’t tread on dewy grass,
you’ll get your sneakers dirty

Oct. 17, 2018

under buffalo's hooves, 
        the cement cracked
telegraphs and printing
           presses later,

as a snocone melted onto--
            weathered airwalks,
                                  buy one     get one
dripping blue,
           into the peaty soil,
blooming lilacs, tulips, cherry blossoms
on a somber
              may day
sweetened by carnival king from half a millenial in the future;
marked scrupulously on a Sanborn Map,

               particles from the
Bicentennial--                    congress,
                 a library buried beneath books where
        margaret questioned
                                               it all.

                                    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-
sugar ants…

          mid night undefeated
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

           on a canceled day--
it was
Some tiles from Morocco, the president's lounge, a grandfather timekeeper
                               Nathaniel Hawthorne's standstill hands--
                    fifteen later,
                          like clockwork
                        it rang, signifying--
                             the standstill nature.
--of time incognito
Architectural phenomenon
        some paperwork

by our own kind
          destroyed by---
spilled chloroform in YA,
                  taken by--
        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,
                                         faux                                wood,
                           sweetened by
                                             carnival king
half a millenial from the future.


Mar. 14, 2018

Originally Written: April 3rd, 2015 4:22am

We are raised under false pretenses.

From our foundations,
we are riddled with

       preached optimism:
(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...
   merely transferred:
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--
The. BAY.

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.

Bayshore drive, 
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.

We 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.

Damned to a new river,
Hudson currents pulling me home.












Nov. 14, 2017


he said it

siren red
a flash-


un fucking for…

his hands,
my face,
graced with…

tactile electricity

it was,

fuego red

the color of his light
the color of his flame


existing on the same wavelength


THE epitome of unspoken
harsh, but 
it. can’t. be. said.

it would be


god damn he-
got it…?

a glance of understanding
a glance?

a wavelength.

one so 
two so…


shatter silence 


from a far away world

I said 
he said

and we knew what it meant


Nov. 14, 2017

live where you love and love where you live
a bottle cap.

frozen in 
perpetual motion

soundwaves of mystery
compelled by-

chemists fret
their discontinued fleaker
a roller coaster fearing-
the intangible.

the root of all knowledge
know all age
then enter:
the all-mighty text

the texts
the texts 
the texts

faded new york times’ articles
barely readable
a security check survey

decipher it all
the texts

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 texts
the texts
the texts

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 engagement
the spacey concentration
a black hole force-field 

stumbling shining silver

the glisten of words-
so majestic


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
mindlessly making 


sensible, the tie untied-
the magic
the miracles

the texts

all the like and oh the like of it all