A-biography

I love the smell of gasoline

Blue flowers, and green neon lettering

Embarrassing-honest people

The words nocturnal, cavalier, and arable

Reading, reading is my second-best to humans,

Greek mythology, all mythology

Solving math equations, being surprised

The soft waves of my mother’s hair

All kinds of clouds and rain

Smooth fabrics, sharpened-pointy pencil-tips

Gravelly voices

      and exploring

With and without
  Hush now, don't pout
Running my hands through my hair
Quantum mechanics
And butterfly feet
  I can't tell you why
Elephants, the only mammals unable to jump
Bats, with bones too thin to walk
  Just hold on tight
We are all the children of nine
With and without

Telling someone not to listen to the jibes
Helps no one
And I can tolerate and forgive
Your shredding of me to pieces
I can let it slide with peace in mind
But you keep your filthy darts away from him

You watch your words and keep them high
You watch your conduct, tone, and airs
You watch your thoughts and deeds' intent
Or I will mind them for you

(Based on The Death of Marat)

Jean-Paul

Cold, tilted

Despite the blood and the parchment

And the warm, dry tint

His eyes are closed,

He’s sleeping?

A warning, a memorial

A testimony

A revolution’s star,

Supernovates.

I do not know what his secrets are

I always wonder at funerals

My money’s on a hidden love

For Charlotte Corday

People tend to love their murderers

I guess the words we spoke were yellow
Like the pages of a book, an old book
An old book
with love notes and
mysterious comments
and one angry, scratchy, slant-scribbled sentence
etched into the corner of page 65
mixed in with the usual and beautiful words
and the familiar, dog-eared, faded-print treasures
and those authors' names jumbling in the background
I guess the words we spoke were yellow
Like the pages of a book

Our estimations are plasmic
Distorted, nebulous, and through it all, intoxicating
We all like to think we have that tragic hero
Did we lose our wings?
Or did we just stop believing that we had them?
Hush, you say, and chalk it up to the situation
Minstrel is such a beautiful word
Why would you abuse it?
I don't need you to know who I am
You should look out your window
If you will let the world rush past,
You should at least watch
Don't drop your dignity like a flag

Stop fidgeting

Is that what you call toeing the line?

If there are boundaries you're testing

Don't just nudge them

If you have reason to test

You may as well take a running leap, 

Headfirst, arms extended,

Thrilled echoes of battle cries

Ricocheting through your mind

It would be better than standing there as you are

Nervously peering across lines that only exist in your head