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