The Switch

I sting and swell

It grasps a switch

A week's time it took to bend

back, and here again, the arm

Pointed at, commanding no army

Sweat in its elbow crease

My foot locked

Under tangled root

"Get up" says the stick

With a stomp to the spine

I wear the welts

Cuts stitched by needle in mouth

Bleeding stopped

"Look, look," it says,

"You're learning!"

Pick another and another

Thick branches

Tiniest twigs

A whole forest,

Trunks, naked

From the ground to the stars

Giant sundials marking its return

When the storm comes

Their arms will not catch the wind

Without greens, the trunk will die

I do not brush off the termites

or the carpenter ants that follow

the weathered hem of my jeans

Leaves and discarded switches crunch

Under feet approaching

It has to travel far, now, for whipping tools

"Which do you like?" it asks.

I tell it to go to hell.

"Knotted and dense,

Sticky with sap,

Straight as sin,

Or chewed by ants?"

I am learning. I am learning.

I tell it to give me the ants.

The air breaks and I cry out.

But I know something now:

The nest is built in hollow wood.

Once More With Feeling

A taste like sour milk.
My nerves split my eyebrows.
Shoulder blades contract

and stick, and stretching
won’t melt muscle fibers.

I feel my heart-- rounder,

And louder, and more central
than in the diagrams.
It falls into my stomach
To feed a hunger,
Then spins up into my throat

Until I cough up metal.

I can't even shit.

It was an easy dosing.
I was stacking orange bottles.
Antidepressants, mostly,
Up straight in a tower.
The pills freckling containers

Like windows
on skyscrapers at dusk.

I flipped the rearview mirror
to night view, anti-glare.
Glance up and see the buildings
when the freeway curves-- I'm
curious, who's working late,
and what do they do,
and who pays them?

I looked up the ones I couldn't remember.

Names patronizing and overconfident.

Grants abilities. Makes you well.
For sale on the national news:
"Increases serotonin and norepinephrine
and makes it easier to be happy!"

I've been doing this too long
I don't believe it.

I grab Ritalin out of the pile.
The news reports on Ritalin”

“Nightmare drug does more harm.”
I don't believe those either.

I'd exhausted myself hanging
the delicates on wires.
I wanted big fat checks
on the to-do list,
and the pills were past their potency so,

Just one?

Hello, Walls.
Have you always stood so straight?
I love the corners, sturdy,
like mothers wrapped over their babies in Pompeii.

Seems I haven't much to say
on the page.
The day stays

Stagnant.
I knew better.

There's a reason the bottle's still full,
And I only trust doctors
to heal real hearts.

And I know, obviously,
this isn't "the one" for me.
But the tower is tall now.
Floors of orange,
Shaded in the glare-proof mirror;
It's just advertising.

It looks different in the day.
Just a big, gray block among many.
I trust more
The sky.
It is more mine than the buildings.

Stones you can pocket.

Skies owned by no one.
Equally yours
as mine and the landlord's.

And I get it,
Why, when the neighbor in 3B sees me
Leave
She picks the bottles from the dumpster.

The sky is inconsistently blue.

But the pills aren't there.
I mixed them with coffee grounds,
in a plastic bag in the kitchen trash.
I think she would've done the same thing,
Eventually.

But what do I know?
Half my friends are on something.
Maybe they're not stacking.
Maybe they're refilling.
Maybe they're working.

I wish them luck,
sincerely,

But I'm done.

Gun Control

What a relief it would be to be dead

I think of this when we discuss gun control

I won’t vote for it

I say

I probably won’t

I don’t like things that control

But I wish they’d stop making new ones

I wish the want went away

And just that wish makes you mad

I told you it must be easy

For you to see target practice

and hunting as casual sports

I see myself on stained linoleum tile

I know if I waited

Just one more hour

I wouldn’t want to pull the trigger

It’s like we are learning to walk

And you are better at navigating

sharp corners

You say I should have to put padding on the corners

So you can have your choice of furniture

I want rounded furniture

soft beveled glass

or sanded oak

In a couple hundred years

we can make the whole world safe for walking

Pretend it’s now

At home

As we stumble freely

Shins sliding against smooth pleather edges

I promise I am not crazy

You are two tragedies away from forgetting

how to balance your head

on your neck

Let alone

bear the weight of arms

Believe me

You are not even the reason for your own sanity

Some burdens were shouldered for your benefit

Some slave labors and surgeries and salaries saved

And if you think you owe

the founding fathers your freedom

You’re looking too far back

There were nights I stayed up

Because sleep meant

Waking to face another day

And when the morning came

I made you breakfast

Every Day (Things We Think About)

Contractions and flows

And flaps to valves

Messages coded in cells

Things that roaches eat

Sweet, meat, starch

Ten to sixty recurring faces

Typing at their desks

Playing Mary Poppins years ago

Selling baked goods at next Sunday's yard sale

Forty feet of fingernail trimmings per lifetime

Except for the ones who died young 

At 0, 10, 20, 30 feet 

Over the kitchen sink

Or in a bathtub clean

Hair in the drain

Hair up or down

The cats' coats by season

The heat and the lights

How well or if we'll sleep

Abecedarian on Hunger

A
Bulimic
Canabal
Distorts
Everyone's Image

For
Give her

Hunger
Is
Justified

Killing is on-
Ly for
Monsters

N
O

People she knew
Quasi-compliant
Ran if they still had legs

Starve quick
Taste delish

Undigested flesh rots and she
Vomits
When she remembers 

X used to be so-and-so, could be
Yours Truly, could be a
Zombie Walker

Small Things Series: Scientist LEGOs

The toy store had two scientists:

1. The Crazy Mad Scientist, $11.25

2. The Female Scientist, $25.97

She comes prepared with two beakers

To his less-efficient one

Her hair is parted neatly on the side

His juts out in spikes

She displays her ID badge

Where his jacket is splattered

His solution is evil neon green

The look in his eye is effectively Crazy Mad

Do you think she costs $14.72 more

As a salary honoring her professionalism?

I wonder.

Small Things Series: Colored Pens

We didn't pick them out together

But Jeff had them too

A set of six three-inch, colored pens

Depending on the text, I had two practices

1. Colors by heading, subheading, body notes

2. Colors by section

He was impressed by my order

I was impressed by his shameless use

Of pink and purple

Determination of Flavor Following the Inclusion of Sweet in Savory

She says scientists love to cook

They follow instructions well

And everyone loves some version of chili

Buy the meat and peppers

Wash, peel, seed, dice

Onion, garlic, tomatoes

Heat up a pan

Stir with a slotted spoon

Lab work is the same

Source your materials

Prep the buffer solutions

Handle specialized equipment

Centrifuge, cell scraper, pipette

The artistry exists in knowing

To approximate in cooking

And quantify exactly in science

Things go wrong if they can

The spice cake was flat and dense

Baking is closer to science

You start over

Questions of the infinite

Answers in dehydrated milk

Three old white men grill her

On the knowledge behind her thesis

We used to question the inclusion

Of sweet in savory

Her friends and family

Sometimes we say the wrong thing

She starts over

The conversation

She is more likely to say no-

Thing, than the wrong thing

You can merge the word "porn"

After "food" or "science"

Passion is not added to taste

It is the taste and the process

Label a scientist cold

Feel the heat of her chili

The Mirror Stage

Note: Sexual themes and drug use. Maybe don't read this if you're a kid or those topics make you uncomfortable.

When I lost all that weight

I couldn't get enough

Of the mirror

Clothes from before or never

Reflections in newly-washed car exteriors

My shadow moving in the parking lot

I asked my therapist if I was a narcissist

She said, "It’s just a mirror stage."

In a musical charge

I listened to a recording of myself

Some silly little song

Hundreds of times

The ‘e’ vowels produced

In my endocrine system

The “within, sift” system

Cellular, sugar and mineral,

heart and guts, prolonged

How many half-a-days

Were lost to reading

My own posts, re-reading

Until the reading becomes skimming

Becomes staring

Until the screen sleeps

And glazed-over eyes stare back

A psychic disturbance

A face all double-chins and grease

Who is that?

One night when I was stoned

I turned the camera app to selfie

Needed to know I could be satisfied

Painted my hair and face like Venus

Soft features, everything soft, and white

White babydoll, white eye brightener

White breasts as big as my head

I didn’t know

Didn’t know a self cathexis

Could feel like Imago Dei

They say when a baby

First knows his reflection

The recognition is so pure

A judgementless consolidation

Of object and subject

The child seeks to see it again

For the rest of his life

He is unable to love himself

Except as a coping mechanism

Except as a placeholder for real love

Unable to see the gestalt of his actions

Unable to see the infinite forms of love

The process of the thing

I looked myself in the eye as I came

Ah ha, and I slept


Follow @sweetlovetruly

Sebastian Chases Storms

Sebastian chases storms

with a Nikon d3200

and an eighteen to fifty-five millimeter lens.

"Science is pretty awesome stuff," he says.

He liked weather since he saw his first storm.

There isn’t much weather

in Central California,

Not like the summer storms of Missouri,

Not like the monsoons of Arizona.

He talks about before now,

Being busy with family life and stuff.

Before now he was seventeen.

Now

He needs a lot of things.

A Canon 7d Mark II,

Or a d7100,

A better lens,

Another trip to Yosemite,

Better exposure shots.

One time his favorite photographer

Photographed the same storm as him

And he didn’t even know

Until he saw the pictures online.

He’s going stormchasing after he graduates.

After he gets up for school in 4 hours.

He’s gonna be all predictions and radars

reports and stuff like that.

"I'm just a troubled teenager who likes weather

for now."
Sebastian chases storms