toning the sweep

There is something growing in the grey
And the lack of specificity is intentional
And we are and not and crumbling now
Like porcelain figurines with little tears.

Clown-nose red smile painted half-heartedly on white circle
And the sirens outside are more intelligent than us all times
Because they recognize that there exists in this fucked world
A capacity for utter failure even when we think we are well.

And we could write each other emails or letters or songs
But we read different dictionaries with varying degrees
Of success at times of our lives that fail to correspond
Like us, with anything tangible or good and words die.

That we have constructed four line fragments of communication
Is good.
But somewhere in the grey we will lose our order.
We already have and we are
And are not
And are crumbling
No matter how you look at it.
But, we will always exist.
In one form or another.





Ascribing power to different verbal databases was not our first or last error.
It was and is the most devastating.

If I skipped lines you could read between them but you might find
Empty space
That we are never as empty in our silence as we are in our words.

And I could say now, holding your jewel encrusted head on my lap,
That all jokes sound the same and then ask “what would you do for a Klondike bar?”
And you would say “I don’t know” and laugh and false laugh and wait for the punchline
And then say “I don’t know what would you do?”

“It doesn’t really matter what I would do we would still be fucked” I would say
And you would get it then the punchline you would feel its true power
Then and only then could we be making sounds that the other could know.


Lets put our language back together lets lay down rules.
For the sake of our shitty attention spans we can only speak in two-thought bursts.

You are feeling neutral toward me now.
I am above the clouds but below heaven and I can see nothing but blue.

We are inhabitants of a dense leafy forest.
we are not the original inhabitants.

If they are smarter than us why are we not dead yet.
please let them be smart.

The speakers on my life simulation device sound tinny at high volumes.
Tinny is an example of where the fucked five percent goes.

I am yelling for distortion’s sake but I think it is useless.
We are receiving muddled messages either way.

Fucked.
Bliss.