inchoate tohubohu

come find me

i await you in the curdle of your temerarious air
to accompany me in the growling of rapacious despair
we will walk along again the lull of your integrity
at a creeping cedar's pace to study this effrontery
to challenge your notions of indeed what took place
with the capacity to dwell in a 30 second span of space

for a lifetime

re: re:

Isolated in an absence
devoid of familiar landscape
or any recognizable sentience

a silence so encompassing

it separates from what it is simply to be

in a single solitary moment

ringing

long off

comes rushing in to seek fecundity

the clinical canals

crammed full to obstruction

a low and wide muffled muting persists

the reverberations then peak to a shrill

filling my eyes with conductive pools

my nostrils overflow with a sipid viscosity

creeping down the back of my throat

gliding into my mouth

in globular streams

the raucous pitch

thereby taking another form

the piquant catalyst 

awakens the memory of dirt embedded digits

reaching
by and down

gripping the near digested recollections of your oil and salt

your calloused hands conjure
coersing jaw agape

a way made for spore encrusted fingertips 

to slip past tongue

and a tickled trachea is impregnated

splinters of your scent 

stick my palate 

and the pungency of your essence ruptures

encapsulating every cellulose constructed entity ever encountered

this proliferates
and an instantaneous sensorial flood overwhelms 

incorporating every conceivable possibility

as well as every scrutable obliteration 

within this zenith of cognitive capacity 

i employ the mindless means to convey the manifestation of existence

i release all the power it afforded
as if every atom was split

and i am no longer human
 

the cacophony of its actuality 

set alight my form

and i am none 

and every

the crest of the wave of expansion

title 1: Imaginary Friends - title 2: a 14 yr old's drunken drivel about shit - title 3: fluff and script about fluff and script and euthanasia

Consider this...

i made you all up

i took what i wanted of each of your displays and snippets and

poof

there you all were

so eager to have what i subconsciously edited into existence

i simply ignored the bits instigating the internal
at times

external winces of embarrassment
and at others
outright revulsion

constantly on mode of better than and superior to

suggesting they would thrive in a chaotic world by murderous means

so yeah, take us all out

i'm waiting...

given, we are all assholes

simply shitting out what we've consumed

mostly fluff and script

we are a hollow people

we can only see what we will in our supposed freedom so aptly described by DFW

"the freedom all to be lords of our tiny skull sized kingdoms, alone at the center of all creation"

satisfied on our "default setting"

which is comprised of said fluff and script

that which has been plotted in the "real world" of "wanting and achieving and display"

you're a lucky one if it is cud
because for most it is shit

it was once processed and digested

while now the toxic byproduct is all that remains
to be consumed again and again
believing our contrived conveyances

the utmost
the be all end all of our own fucking insignificance

what do we really do for our surrounding energies

because that is what we are

energy in constant flux

so if we constantly put out falsehoods, embellishments, misdirected anger, and hateful delusion
then how are we ever to know what we are
or of what we are meant to be

how are we ever going to progress beyond this sludgy quagmire in which we all currently wade
content to have reached a buoyancy at neck level
as we continue to proliferate the tried and true
which is this

this awful mess

in mine (the awful mess that it)

i covet escape from my own experience

a way of not having to focus on what i am
because i've mostly felt i am many
and don't want to claim i know what that is
and because i am alone in my experience of this so called many

i've learned to hide it
to hide my experience

to be seen as acceptable
and to not be told i need to seek the means to be something other than what i am
whatever that may be...

anecdote
rolling away the particularly heavy recycling bin i notice a motionless lizard
with fue respect i pick the flattened body up by the tail to bury
though the lizard was alive
jaw cracked and bloodied to the rear of its skull
belly widened by the compression of weight above the wheel which delivered it
it writhed in fright and agony
i knew what i had to do
i went into the house to grab the sharpest heaviest knife
after a tearful hesitation
i chopped off its head and buried it
i'd rather end suffering than callously walk away from it as if it meant so much less than i
maybe that's the Yaqui in me (1/8 is hardly much)
it's what i would hope anyone would do
if i were beyond physical rehabilitation

i'm not worried about what is beyond my comprehension

this is because i do not fear death

i am humbled enough in life to feel a draw to it

possibly because my veil here is so thin
and possibly because it will be an enlightening as to how and why we are stuck in this defective groove

maybe it will afford a means to nudge the needle head which continuously skips over the same two tones on this grand shoddy vinyl we tread

possibly then i will take my place in the transformation of this into the next

and by i
i mean the energies which surround

of which i am comprised 

hence death
and a possible nothing
or just something different
anything but this constant hum

i am never alone

yet always lonely

so i made them up

all of them
and i do everyday

i write to them

i laugh and talk to them aloud

and hold them close to me

and touch their cheeks in the most loving manner

all of this i want

to be the fallible me

the clayfooted 'mo'

i don't claim to know shit about shit

i am just observant and i have opinions

what i do know

is that with my imaginary friends 

i can never do or say or be something wrong or upsetting

i am always just so
rightly human

and i love them for it

gravidity lacking parity

a time piece slowed

miraculously in tune

with reluctance

rendezvous with a black cat lubricated in wry yarns

flowing out into communities by which desire struck

humbled near the crackling oven of conference

chewing the frivolities and challenges of the fat

into the halituous day's retirement

landmark holding the hour of descent 
into excruciating realizations

overwhelmed by the prospects of possibility

ill-prepared to take on the looming conceivable challenge 

of precautions disregarded

though we are not of time and place 

keeping the fruitful bound to the potential 

elicited while in the care of the flippant

waking to the hazed recollection of indifference

positing the plausible for an instant

the cure is clear
disintegration

the introduction of contingency

affording the placement of a squeaky key on the flow of the ruddy river styx

precluding the lingering presentiment

catharsis in my discordant song

surrendering to the confounding relief of discomfort

accompanied by a reserved release

of tenuous expectation

amorphous aka the blurb aka "nothing is sacred" aka does not, does it

glass
neither solid
nor fluid
nor transitional
may fracture and shatter easily
yet is clear

nacre
3000 times stronger than its composite material
due to its ability to divert pressure through widened channels
inconsistent structural formations
which allow resilience
conduits for pressure flow
layered bricks near the thickness of light
iridescent

similarly
tooth enamel
rods at the surface
converge into a myriad of crisscrossing systems below
allow the same resilience
laid out as a twisting maze
alleviating the initial disruption's magnitude
given a length at which to dissipate

tectonic plates
mirrored catastrophically
though inside out
ever savage change
relief in the form of earthquakes
volcanoes
subsequent mountain ranges
pushing and pulling
very much so like people
in our superficial understanding
though the energies by which we exist
I imagine work structurally as nacre and enamel

the tortuous
the chasmic
the seething
the vacuous
the orogenic
the horsts and grabens
push
pull
physically
metaphysically
ethereally
it all
in all

we each has our oily prints on it
though the shaping of...
does our conjecture hinder and limit
does it broaden and complicate
"there are two sides to every coin"

does the amorphous have a quip

we each are afforded the capacity of experience
we each grab hold of what we will during said experience

nurturing methods suggested
in an air of genuine open eared concern

carelessly filled
outrightly belittled
ferociously gouged

how to keep these experiences in the same value

If one contains my idea of what grace should embody
and the other does not
does it mean they do not attempted to achieve the same value

one may have had to travel farther
merited length to arrange it's manner
the other may not have had such a route laid
shallow
unraveled in suppositions
second guessings
arriving as a steep peak's eruption convoluted and violent

though the same value does not equate the same experience

or the quality there of



oh, to be less like glass






after reading a WIRED article from 2014

imbroglio

emergence of the day is hazed in suggestions of contentment

eliciting a minute crawl back into framed perception

questioning the veracity of the current nonchalance

half a revolution prior

guzzling the means to encompass the paltry clicks and ticks in competence

occupying the lofty realm of this figment

memory of a memory

vague resolve buoyant in the immediate and vaporous language of intemperance

a constant toothless gnawing 

the liquid ceremony I employ to drown

this solicitous nature which pulses

as cascading crimson disengaging gashed pathways

surreptitiously cauterized by the chimera of conversance

evident the antithesis ensues

scabs form only to be cracked and snagged by the fabric of these illusions

a hodgepodge of wants and actualities

rather the perceptions thereof

crafting disheveled communique

for the sights of the skeptics

possibly never to gather the desperation of this conveyance

to feel any sort of acknowledgement

in days left for want

marinating in the protracted conflicts of comprehension

aching to break the self-inflicted ennui

of not being tempted by anyone or anything but the drowning

what fear comes of speaking plainly

the loss of an enigma I craved to my core

the exact puzzle I have always coveted

my ever encompassing want incarnate

the devil’s advocate

the Cheshire Cat

the lost chess piece which renders the set incomplete

now to level it off

admitting it may all be hyperbolic

though the more I shared the hours

the more I craved

bare raw humanity

so fragile

smothered in the likeness of our current complacence

buried by the stories one tells oneself to get by

without letting itself breathe in the light of time

in the light of shared experience

itself beckoning to be pulled into the warmth of understanding

to be worn and appreciated even through the energies of the obtuse 

deluded and belligerent

until it no longer is

letting go of the only perceived option

which was believed is control

leading to moments of

The Green

grey eyes

frantically fearful of the unknown

where the maladroit grope for power 

sabotaging the creeping manuevers of unfathomable architecture 

you so desperately desire to navigate