the titanic is not every ship

September 30th, 2007 at 07:17:44 PM

last night was throwing
a penny down the deepest
well i have ever seen
and when it hit the bottom
i heard it crack

loud enough to remember

if you hold onto something
that is very heavy for a
very long time you don't grow
tired you grow crooked
from the weight

but from it you gain pleasure

when i die put my bones
around your neck and wear
me as a reminder of how
you held me up when i was down
even in death

try to live for that forever

(...and i talk about the moon
how it consumed my room
and the cold when it blew
until the sun lit a fuse
but don't get that confused
with how much i did lose
in the sky trying to fly
when i could've floated with you
no wings attached...)

things we burned in the fire

September 30th, 2007 at 06:25:06 PM

i watched the sun
kill the night
and it bled white
because when it
stabbed like knife
it did it with light

my pen cuts like the knife
the sun used on the night
only sometimes when i write
the night stabs the sun.

he is a cubscout

September 24th, 2007 at 05:11:02 PM

when i was thirteen he was nagging in the back of my mother's head and a stomach ache that she couldn't quite shake. she would wake up and puke, so she got married to ron. sometime after i turned fourteen he saw light for the first time, he was purple at first like a gigantic jelly bean, and he cried immediately which most babies don't do but i think that's because he had been choking for a little while. there were seeds in his head that didn't grow right, because the windows in the pit of my mothers stomach were a little foggy, and the rain he got wasn't quite rain, and the soil he was planted in was just unfertile enough, so he grew a little crooked. and when it was time for the wind to hit his back i'm not sure he was ready, and maybe he was crying because he wasn't. i'm not sure why he was crying, but he did that for about 4 years.

and downstairs as i speak, there are the two most powerful monsters in the world colliding! in an epic battle inside of his head, while a story about a boy who goes to school with monkey's is playing behind his head and he's a cubscout you know, one time someone shot him in the foot with a beebee and it didn't hurt though because beebee guns don't hurt even though all the parents say they do and he was wearing his goggles so that makes it ok. don't worry, it didn't hurt though, he promised me. he sits with a collection of toys from different genres and countries of origin and combines them to make an epic struggle, super powers and the ending of the world every day, he makes up names and places and if i wrote it all down i'm sure it would make perfect sense. i could monetize it maybe, it would be an international hit. he draws pictures of his favorites from whatever video game he's playing and cuts them out of paper and pretends that they are plastic and as real as all the other ones, until he smashes them up, and then they no longer serve his purposes, so he works their demise into the plot. just like what would really happen if godzilla ran into the power rangers and a skateboarder from a mcdonalds happy meal, they would have a clash like you could never imagine on the rooftops of gotham city and would take no remorse it would be horrifying i'm sure, but exciting, i'm sure. somewhere in the mind of a cubscout.