REMOTE IDEA 01
Holiday in front of God
(Neither part of nor outside this mixture)
I’m still not open to believing
(In the garden it is festered)
Forget that it’s you who I created

Minute shaking of your eyes
(I see a face, it’s underwater)
Caught myself staring at the motion
(Looking for something that’s reflective)
Distorting my view of things at rest

Share my skin, onlooker
Use my voice to find out what language you speak
To me
Override, not on my time

Eyes are submerged in search of a trace amount of metallic mirror
The calm, or the source, isn’t satisfied. Navigator must entrust mapmaker

Take my eyes, view collision
Still I hear, the blur is getting louder
Don’t look behind, not constant
(Focus on the path)
I tread with fear, in moonlight I see your shadow
(Laughter is a choice)
Let’s tell no one else
(Let me read your health)
I’m outside salt circle
(In the sphere bound)

I might have discovered a pattern of behavior to be like my older sister
Contact with something so dangerous could count up the calluses on your ticker

Contact coursing
Shower, regal
Hope to see you exit this world
Wear your mask you proud-taloned cockroach

SLAM NO HOLD
Never want to sleep
Anxious I’m missing some unwatched thing
I’m counting shaved sheep
Save shears for cooler days of clear water

Dizzy spell caster
Forgetting to eat and blaming my eyesight
Numbers moving faster
Collapse your hands around something that’s fragile

There’s pressure on the inside
And deep space on the outside
It’s hard to think what’s better
Crossing off or adding on
I’m still underwater and I’m…
Writing out the week
Forever turned doomsayer I’m coming up short
Forgetting to speak
And losing an hour to unconscious action figure

Tying down sunny days
Will to make a mark that’s higher than the doorframe
Living alternative through haze
I make my own problems when there’s not enough to trouble me

At home without a motive
Pending distress is never-ending
I sure wish I was told this
I’m in control of all my being
I’m like a pastor artist
Who can’t decide what shade to paint this crucifixion
Eating dried acrylic

I’m in doubt, life’s a bust
Are you doing enough? Probably not
Choose lasting culture, rising dough
Arms sore, I’ll mulch you

Rotting skull
Broken bones
Still I’m here