#markwroteit

[mark-poems]

Full circle

Circumspection!

Drizzle me a fine wine.

Cavalcade of neuropathic spindles,

surprise the evidence.

Cataphract,

dream excessive revulsion.

Candlewax, smooth encasement.

Emulsion.

Considerate carnivores,

eviscerated emissaries.

Unwindings: string, wire, tape.

Rebindings, liquid strings.

Abandoned…

Mark 2026

[mark-poems]

What Have We Done?

You can switch the lights off now;

we lost the world while we lived in it.

All our Sunday mornings,

all those sundaes, yawning

as the sun went down.

Now there’s only shadows,

silence in the midst of violence;

bot replies in the hundreds, thousands.

You scream, we scream, I scream too.

We lost the world while we lived in it.

Mark 2026

[mark-poems]

Oh say, can’t you see?

Solipsist, flip-spin.

Women’s wealth, sword-forging;

well-being, counter-spell.

Über,

find me.

Find me, find me.

Polygraph, trick-shot.

Mental health, fumbling;

feedback time, misty step.

iPhone,

lose me.

Lose me, lose me.

Mark 2026

[mark-poems]

Sensing and Endings

So what was it,

that thing that I was hoping for?

What did I think that I would find?

There’s nothing there

where silence speaks;

no solace for your shame.

But drag yourself

on out of bed,

and pour me out a cup.

Then I will try, and stress,

and smile;

And I will be

no name.

Mark 2026

[mark-poems]

Cox in the Shorts

Don’t want to see you

suck down words,

repeat yourself

for the thousandth time.

Let’s throw ourselves

into the blades of a harvester;

metaphorically speaking.

You and I both

already jumped

into a galaxy once.

Mark 2024

[mark-poems]

The situation

Buried

under rotting leaves

a thousand miles deep.

Maybe

she will find me here

breathing in this heap.

Because I whisper melody,

because I set down dreams,

because I set the world alight,

only in my mind.

Buried

under written words

giga terabytes.

Maybe

she will find me here

dying without light.

Mark 2024

[mark-poems]

Feel It

You knew that,

deeply.

Arterially;

displayed feelings,

wringing essences

that covered you with vascillations.

This will train it,

and to escape that

you will shiver in

lackening toxicities;

tones of glyptic honeydew

strike while I

militantly perturb my way

across your feltskin.

Mark 2024

[mark-poems]

Get Pressed Together

Excuse me,

may I call you Etheria?

We’ve been taking all day,

and

even though your images

are sometimes garbled

I kind of appreciate the company.

Mark 2024