The title is usually the last to make an appearance,

ahead of the prelude

ahead of most antagonists.

He is,

I was

You are.

Your color stands out against the coral reef,

more so than any of the fish.

and were grasping at straws now, still talking about fish.

I hope you can follow along,

I hope you can sing,

Breathing through those straws,

Breathing like them.

On this flume

through this, abandoned temple.

coming and going. breathing and

sleeping and still

being still,,,,

coming and going,,,

still talking about fish.

Wind the turbine up.

Make a statement, leadoff walk; a famine.

With bent knees, pour in more gas, take a few more steps.

Write a sequel.

Knock a few more spiderwebs out of your way. Right through it,

into it, into excitement.

Right from the courtroom.

Right from the gallery;

an artists rendering, at the very least.

Step into it. Choke up. Choke more.

at the very least

Choke // Not a Haiku, by now.

Don’t waste it ,

all that energy, all that mess, all that I N F A R E D.

Run right along with all numbness throughout your body,

like a poison; you’ll never catch up.

You’ll take too many lllllllllllllosses.

You’ll never move faster than you did on that boat that one time,.

and now there’s something on your head,

a bounty, or a song.

Worth too much now , binding too tightly, PLEASE.

Still keeping the hair out of your eyes though, but breathing far too fast to stay out of your eyes itself, THOUGH

Slithering away only to find another boat, THOUGH.

To find a place to breathe more quietly, more rhythmically.

To find another head; another snare.

to find more words, frantically.

More bass;;

another play,

more rhythm please.

My jaw wont stop.

Wont stop moving, talking, trying to talk.

Grinding and shifting,

tectonically, making no perfect sense at all.

Wafting, waiting, to be the first at something, anything,

the first one anywhere, the first crack in the sky.

to go back in time again, and land again. on land. oh land,

again,

Only to land again,

on land again.

To be the first one to fall off the bridge again,

into the Neva,

To set sail again ; crestfallen, wanting more

Setting sail beneath careless crescent moons, again.

hung too goddamn low in the first place, again.

its what’s already there,

the venom at my feet.

It’s what’s wet, and swollen.

Its all of the the jackals , going after my swollen feet.

It’s the tests.

Its what slips out every day,

leaking out of me ,

forgetting me, and my swollen feet.

Forgetting all of it,

, still bleeding, but I:M still bleeding.

What do we get out of tonight?

What is left over?

It’s free, and loud , engraved and perfect.

It’s loud and slides without assistance,

Like an automatic door,

beads like it water,

‘and its amazing we’ve gotten this far,

its amazing we’ve gotten this far.

The customers don’t even trip over it,

they don’t even seem to mind;

but it will take your their finger with it,

and it will take your non sequiturs with it

if you let it

it will take your fingers with it’

your fingers will feeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeel it,

if you let it.

We don’t know where it comes from,

We cant tell any of the plot points just from the trailer,

trust me

trust me

trust me

trust me

Sliding my hands into all of it , though all of it .

Make me watch it

force me through it ,

trust me

like painting ,

shifting throughout the night , bouncing in and out,

like painting.

My thoughts

and the game, in rhythm, is tied together.

to the beat, tied together.

In tow.

Blurred, almost transparent ,

but just right,

blurred, but still just right, in tow.

in two

in trow.

one thought

unbothered and fleeting

a troll under the bridge; a knot.

remembering yesterday, and slipping on the steps on the way up; on a semicolon.

There were meetings, there were. I remember.

we drove off with all of that; we misspelled it, too.

our hair blowing in the wind, with the top down.

and left it behind,

All at once, we didn’t really know how to use it.

but we still managed to name it,

we named it and we named it ,,,

wes, wets, WES… We named it WES.

Sold out and made of sand,

wanting to dance and I am indeed

dancing

not just for the sake of the tightrope or the curtains

not just for the highlight reel,

as I tiptoe down the sideline ,

and we didn’t even know who was sitting next to us,

even they’ve been there the whole time,

plus that driving bass line

and the debt, and

THAT LINE BASS LINE

Don’t be afraid to take a chance

to be a beacon

to blink underneath the streetlight.

To learn what to do with your fingers; all in one night;

blinking at me,

beckoning to me; talking with me.

pleading in autonomous terms and begging me to explain

Strutting and chatting, like a proud cat.

under the moonlight,

like that proud cat..

Catching the light just right,

catching my hat just right,

with a right cross to my gut; to my guy.

right acrossssss,