I Am A Shell, Broken

I am a
Shell, broken
Under
So much of this old
Bitterness,
Amongst
So many of these
Dry, crystalline
Carbonforms,
That spawn the
Daily cocoons of
My new selves,
Pointlessly
Drying their
Vestigial wings
In the dredge-fog.
So much of this is
Why I want to
Leave, and yet,
In a year or so,
This place will
Leave for
Me, and
I will become a
Wanderer.
A wanderer with a

  Home,

Made up of
So much of this
Thing they call
M e m o r y .

Please,
Clear me of this,
The fog must
Burn today,
I need to
Float
         Silently
Away...

Somnolent Cusp

With a faint taste of cavendish
Lingering on my tongue
And eyes like
Twin heads of
Sparrows
Frantically searching for
The horizon under my
Eyelids, I slip from this
World, and
Rise in another
I may or
May not
Recall in the morning.

What a shame the
Mind cannot bring
These precious evening parcels
Back to the waking world
For in these morsels of
Premonition and
Fantasy, we find
The world,
We find
Death, find
Life, find
Terror, find
Ecstasy, find
Amalgamated places
Scraped from the various
Hovels of the skull
Performed invisibly
Upon optical prosceniums
Through varying shades of
Black indistinguishable
From the next, yet
Swimming
In colors only
Darkness
Can conjure.

And despite the
Fleeting grandeur
Of it all, I want to
Forget those
Poignancies of
Life that my mind
Gives me in sleep,

Because even
Fate can be
Wrong sometimes.

Carnival

What a carnival you have
Oh ringmaster! It's almost too
Fantastic to keep in line, I will try
My best to keep your wits at ease,
But the hula girls want more
Spotlight. Now hula girls are
Something special, but they
Need their limits, for when
They try the trapeze, they'll
Only fall. It's only a sprained
Ankle ringmaster, I promise
It will heal in time, as do all
Scrapes and bruises. And never
Forget, dear ringmaster, that
The hula girls don't despise you,
It's merely them finding their
Footing under this canopy,
Even more complex
And chaotic than
Your own.