1. THE BAKER ART

This hole in my head is complicating
When it comes to retaining your name.
I feel the thought dripping down my neck.
I need the doctor. I need the medicine.
The face of my friend is beginning to blur again.
Dance with me with lack of identity my precious little girl
Hold on to the value of memory while
Your father's brain boils.

My body is a hollow vessel.
My eyes are starving mouths to feed.
What would it take to get a taste of the meat
That hangs from the neck of every person I see?
You in particular, I hang off every word
Until it drips out of my head again.
I feel dementia kicking in.
What did you say your name was?

Run from me before I know the difference.
Tomorrow will you be my daughter,
Draped in a different dress.
Your poison is the scent that saturates the air.
Grab your clothes and head for the back door
Before the devil knows you were here.

It's been you all along, you conniving little slut.
Where did you come from?
I will write you down, I will carve you into my skin.
I'll tell the guards not to let you in.
The stain on my lip matches your cigarette.


2. EDGAR SUIT

I found a way to find you out.
You shift far too much to keep your shadow a doubt,
It picks you apart.
You’re left handed when I’m not around.
Taking in more breaths than you’ll ever need to let out,
You’re suspending your heart.
You creep past the sun as if it could stain
And you entrap your pigment by dodging the rain.
You bask in the moon, as it's soft on your face.
But it's your body, itself,
That will chew through your veins,
Exposing solutions that deem you a fluke.
Naturally, it's inviting the truth.
To what do I owe this imposition?
When you drift through your head,
Do you picture your left as you try
To forget a life that you had?
Do you intend to pretend as though you recall
What was said the first time we ever crossed paths?
To what do I owe this imposition, this test?


3. DEADWEIGHT

I have a glove full of pointless bones and veins
Sucking the blood from my heart like leaches,
Containing nothing but weight,
I am heavily walking left again.
My complaint stems from the miscalculations
Of assembly gone wrong
Five shovels dig their way into my skin
As a symbol of rejection.
Poor attempts to even me out consist of asking
Stubborn men to believe in something they doubt,
A bona-fide affliction of necessity.
Open my head and examine the threads
Connecting fingers to the brain.
A simple seed planted in me grew into an interposing tree.
The world has been overlooking obvious signs of informality.
Embrace the light of those speaking without
A mouth full of twisted tongues.
Weaved and complexes, ridges like waterways spill
Where the ocean meets the shore of my wrist.
I alleviate the tempting, so tempting urge to unfasten.
This is not a temporary affair.
I am prepared to be more helpless.


4. SUBURBANITE SPRAWL

He contends with the wind to be where it's been
Collecting sediments from the lives that powder his feet

He grows weary of his skin as it provides
The very itch for supplemental lives
Tantalizing a disconcerting niche
Seeing in degrees as eyes bob in between cardinals

His body: the means, fallen victim to his map of a mind
It wont stop until the sky has parted ways oh so many times
His body is his means
He demands love wherever he lands
He only has remorse for cities
That could've been better seen

A walking third party perspective
He prospects of any place yet seen
Another busy ant with an angry queen to please

Oh Gods, where have I been?
I've never traveled your world and I'm standing at the end
An easy settlement wields enough
Not enough of a lot of things.


5. BUTCHER'S SON

I wear a mask molded from clay.
I walked on my shoes until the edges frayed.
Alone, I've cast from my home; Give in to the wonderer.
My whole purpose is deceived. I am no employee of god,
But I swear to you this, I will see her again.
So hold tightly to this manifestation.
I will surrender my gold in the return for the patience of
A loyal friend,
The accomplice to the slight in my hand.
I am your hope. Bearing gifts, altering alters.


6. WEARY LUNGS

If I were to open up, you would have a mess to clean.
With a twitch of breath to even the illness inside,
I'm tired of living through symmetry
And I'm losing my faith in the story behind the clouds.
I hope you figure me out before I do.


7. DEVIL AND WATER

Forget forgetfulness.
You've made your way into my heart.
Like a pulse running through my veins,
I should never forget such vital things.
Loathing you proved to be inadequate,
Qo I will love you in my sleep
And this will be less of a burden on me.
Breath colors and feel alive, you mendacious little girl.
You've crept onto the dance floor of a dangerous mind
And your pirouetting poison as fresh as the air it destroys;
A familiar decoy, but
I feel this is the only way to keep you.
Is this the only way? With a pillow in hell to rest my head.
I am omitting the filial love
I had for the original vision of you.
I'll watch you grow into a woman
And I will love you in my sleep so
This will be less of a burden on me.
Twisted hearts, like strings split and tangled,
Leave thirst for serenity,
Leading me to the only solution: to kill the regimen.
I will submerge my thoughts under water.
I'll show you a mind is less buoyant than a heart.


8. MRS. D

Darling, do you recall when the moon was so close,
It was as if we could drive there?
It wooed us with its powers that made us feel
Our love would never die there.
She gazed back at him with swirls in her eyes.
He had memorized every little stitch to their history,
But the caverns in her mind left her with an airy mystery,
So he continued to recite their love.
The fog hugged the hill where our bodies soaked in the dew.
The trip was never made; it was only I that came back.
Soon your brain started to cleave before
We ever knew it was under attack.
And in one look, and one instance, the weight of your eyes
Shifted in a way that left my stomach twisted.
I have found a way to bring you back.


9. GRANULATED EYELIDS

The tick of his teeth imposing
His lip is in desire for another
Not to have, but to be.
Not similar, but the same.
He kicks the side as a start,
Slinging arms with the one who tickles
His gut just by being;
steps lightly, trails easy, with brisk in the stride.
Riding the nights that rode childhood bedtimes,
Harvesting an appetite for greater things.
A hometown hero he'll be,
Stealing from the rich and giving to the poor.
With his profits he'll seek no less help for himself
For this act is selfishly noble and hypocritically humble
(Borrowing bodies is a past time for me,
Jumping from the rich and into the poor.
I'm the prophet they seek.
There should be no such hell for us to live forever),
Spreading the line between...
One who will turn his back on a man with a gun
And one who will turn a gun on a man to his back.


10. I, THE SURGEON

Courage, I am begging you.
Every time you've conjoined hands with your friend
Cowardly must be eradicated.
I've been mistakenly fabricated.
My limb is in need of adjustment to its reach.
To those ignoring our plight,
We will turn them into fools tonight.
Let us surface and make face
With surrounding skeptical critics
To the know it all, the medic, and the swine.
Let them point their boney fingers.
Deserving we are of this alignment of ourselves to the bone.
Set aside from the typical, ostracized and belittled,
They're abstaining our will to speak.
They've deemed us a unique group of intolerable beggars,
but these branches are shading their perspective.
Riddled by my own hand and convinced
That I would be more useful without such useless things.
Drive the hammer through the bone.
This passionate yearn settled through a faulty operation.


11. FOOLS ERRAND

There's something here that's not always seen.
My reason to believe is embedded in me.
My gums are these streets, making these buildings my teeth.
Founded on a date that I can't help but remember.
It's so paternal to clamber through this mountainous web
That you've weaved;
Un-constricting and inviting of a return
(Shameless if need be)
When feeling through dark halls of supposed opportunity.
Behind endless doors not at all like the one held open.
There's nothing quite like the door held open.
And if I end up losing everything before everything loses me,
At least it will be in succession,
By the wake of those who would kill to have no home.
A western base is a mark and the opposing peak is a goal.
Without a map, a compass for
A heart and the mountains surrounding me,
Lead a man to believe that in between
We are sitting so pretty
Comfortable in our occupancy.
We are attempting to be somewhere inside of shapes and lines
I am calling out for a place to call home,
Out for a place to call my own.
I can't fathom why to leave.