Lost & Found

They were lost

Like two balls of energy

That never belonged


Even though

She refuses to accept

That she’s energy

And that’s probably

Because she is entirely her

And nothing else


Or in any way metaphysical

But he thought that they were

And they were lost

And then

They met

And even though

They didn’t know each other

they found each other

And in a cosmic sort of way

In a very anti-climactic

Almost boring

Kind of way

They now belong

They don’t know to what

Or how

Or if they’re even the cause of it

But somehow

In some sort of way

They both exist in the same realm

And maybe

Just maybe

They were found 


Measuring Time

 That moment

When the present

Collapses onto the future

And the future 

Melts into the past

Making one 

Very simple

Unit of time




Making me 

A time traveler

And her 

My destination

And the world

Just another stop on the route

To a place where 

Her smile is the sun

And all the other stars

Her servants

And this moment

That moment

The Individual Sum of the Collective Values of the Concept of Sexy

Do you do you know 

what really turns me on?


Irregular plurals









turns me on 

Is plurals like


or you know 

which one really gets me



It’s like the greater sum of the seemingly conceptually identical parts is way larger and sexier than the individual parts that make it up 


Than they could ever be each on its own


Kind of like humanity


Language, man 



So damn hot


what a fucking mistress.

The Grand Scheme Of The Little Things

The problem

Quite frankly is

When you want something

Is not in line with

When you need something

And that in itself 

Doesn’t go with

What you desire

Or if what you need

Goes against what you long for

Because those can sometimes




And the biggest problem

Is when you work hard

To earn the right 

To deserve something

That you 




Long for

Have to want

And want to need it

And after all that

It turns out

It’s right here


And you realize that

Having something 


Is exactly

The end of it all

The Girl At The Shawarma Place

She stood

Calm and beautiful 

Behind the counter

Between customers

Utterly uninterested in anything



At that particular juncture in time

In space

Seemed so very uninteresting to her


Her face was serene

Her Stature very sure 

Her demeanor non existent


This was a shawarma place

Serving delights of food

And she was so very un-delighted

Staring at the soda fridge

As if it had the answer to a rhetorical 

Question she never asked


I was lost in her blank expression

As if her face was a planet 

Where time never existed

And my person

Was as transfixed as ever

Lost in the landscape

Of a glimpse 

Of what a beautiful girl looks like

The Quest For Life’s┬áMost Mysterious Truths

I’ve been trying to 

Study what she is

But there seems to be no answer

Only clues

And a whole bunch

Of speculation


But my gut tells me

That she’s

A universe of 


Of criss crossed


Ranging from 

The absolutely beautiful

To the 

Extremely neurotic


An endless equation 

Of unsolvable math

And lawless physics


She’s like science

Without the science

Like philosophy

But without all the metaphysics


Her eyes are

A whole new genre of fiction


her face 

The future

Her brain

A mystery 

So why even bother

Because the rest, 

As they say,

Is history

The Nature Of Water

She’s the girl 

To his boy

The ink to his pen

And the pen to his paper


The timing is all screwd up

He let her soul go

And it got tangled with another

But he knows


They belong together

The way two souls do

He and she

Him and her


once upon a time

He vanished

For being lost

Or some such non sense


It’s inexcusable 

Utterly horrible


She forgave him

And the waves left the shore


He was reduced

To sand grains

His life

A drying moment

Thirsty for his sweat heart

Sea water


But he forgot

That even the sea

With its perpetual revisits

To the shore

Must shrink sometimes 

When it’s winter

And the cold is inevitable


It’s scary 

And cold

And wet 

And dark


But the sun always

Shines again

And the waves always 

Come back


But he’s afraid 

That before his wave comes


Another might come

And pull the grains away

Into sea

And then she comes back

And he’s not there

Or he’s there

But she never comes back


But that’s the nature of the water

And the moon

And lovers


He thought