#bogpoems

[bogsounds]

12-3-18

I don’t think I’d recognize it anymore. My abstracted fantasy more real now, than any moment ever was. I’ll live on and it will too-- In the offbeats when the quiet looms.

[bogsounds]

12-2-18

Staying soft, Doomed to a life of premeditated suffering, I will not let myself harden, I will scrutinize my intention, I will not let myself win.

[bogsounds]

08-20-18

It’s nice to feel a part of something, warm and simple and human. Sometimes it’s nice to return to the womb, in the cavernous eyes of half-hearted friends.

[bogsounds]

08-18-18

I’d like to drown in cheesecake I think. I want my obituary to read: “His lungs are full of cheese and cake”

[bogsounds]

08-17-18

Every death leaves guilt Under my fingernails and in the corner of my eye. There is never enough to do. There’s never enough to do.

[bogsounds]

08-16-18

I carry my sins, as a marsupial, as a man-- as something spoken, carried as a barnacle on catamaran. An unseen weight in current.

[bogsounds]

08-14-18

I need to eat my hands, and chase them with my tongue. I need to be quiet. I need to be neutered, and made whole.

[bogsounds]

08-13-18

Some people can unhinge their jaws. They don’t show it, but they could. I know they can because I can. And there’s nothing inside me unique or good.