Tlaloc- Day 9

Wash us clean, o
great Rain!
Let the light pour
from your daggers
Blood from the cosmos
as we are born again
Every day

Make us green
to shake off the greys
Help life stretch
forward and upward
Kill death
with your death
Above us

Today we feast
on your violence
Covering space
in the constant sound
Washing in your
sacrifice, we rejoice
Tlaloc hears

Wash me clean, o
great Rain!
Let me soak in
your indifference
The cold cosmic blood
bonds with mine
We are one

Little Boy- Day 8

Inside your face
is my face
and his face

Inside your eyes
are your fears
and your discoveries

Inside your bones
is your future
and your past

Inside your voice
is your truth
and our correspondence

Inside your mouth
are your injustices
and your laughs

Inside your head
is your magic
and your dreams

Inside your heart
are your demons
and your loves

Heist- Day 7

Saccharine rubber disguises
cover with sweat,
clown-faced

The excitement glows
It is hidden in flower boxes
ready to threaten

Synchronizing time
in dull dusty suits
for the most perfect moment

Darkly-lit scenes present
players huddled with
blueprints for ambition

Some will fall short
Their disguises not slick enough
against the infection of fear

Thickened, sweaty plots
cover all possibilities
save the Fates

Old-fashioned egos
repeat the same tales
told to children at night

Them versus we
at the bank or horsetrack,
the plot is lost

The blonde fatale
Mucks up the trick
but they are all monsters

Irony fans out the score
and the egos are left sweaty
and the scene ends

No one is free
No disguise is sweet enough
The clown mask mocks

The Puddle- Day 6

And in that stillness
and in that light
there are countless worlds
of potential

Requirements are
specific to each world
but they puddle together
and rest there

And in that magic stillness
dreams are had
molecules bond
there are no words

The dark shifts forward
each world loses itself
all puddled together
resting in still

Cold Beach- Day 5

I dreamt of the beach
and Coronas we bought on the way there
warm from the car.
We drank salt from the sky

We were shouting about
the cooler and where everything went
and they all ran into the water
without helping

I dreamt of the cold beach
I didn’t want to go in
I wanted to build a castle
and drink warm beer

The Sun was a grey one
and it's always exotic
even when the Sun is grey
and the waves are cold

I dreamt of the beach
and then mostly it was quiet
and the beer was gone
and we stopped shouting

The Boat- Day 4

Winds face forward
and backward
and the night is young
and we are all
sailors on boats
lost at sea, aged

The Sun is different
every day
and the night is young
and we get dizzy
and sometimes dry
from all the light

The boat sways
forward and back
and it has space
and it has a tent
shared or deserted
the tent is there

Nighttime guards
against daydreams
and time stops
and dreams drop
and the tent
keeps the space