1. the man with armor eyes
there once was a man with thin plastic skin
and everywhere he went it would rip so easily
that his insides would be on display, for all to see.
at first he didn't care though, because that's the way he was.
he would get some tape and patch up the holes,
and eventually a good portion of his body was covered up again.
but the tape would rip just as easily, and tear just as much.
oftentimes when people needed tape, they would even use some of his,
but not everyone knew it was actually his skin.
eventually the man couldn't go on with plastic and tape for skin,
so he constructed a suit of armor to replace it.
the armor worked so well, and it never tore,
and no one ever saw inside the man's body again.
he became used to its strength and the privacy it gave him,
and no one ever used his armor like they did his tape skin.
the man then forgot he ever had his plastic skin,
and forgot what he looked like inside,
and all he saw was through his armor eyes.
2. something in this house
shoots stars tipped with cool blue wax
from eyes to stomach
3. untitled
to the stars at night
and evergreens in cobalt cover
to the sound of cars far away on highways
and laughter in golden light
to half caught smiles through corners of eyes
and seconds burned in memory
to the color of a fireplace unused
and the anticipation it holds
to every girl that's ever smiled
and every boy who couldn't move
to laying on a bed in late afternoon
and drifting between worlds
to the memory of something i can't quite place
and its tan/blue sand haze
to the secret places behind homes
and the forgotten ones inside
to thunderstorms in yellow twilight
and a memory of the Gods
to dreams too big for our minds and hearts
and our occasional Fall for them
to the pain that makes us rise
and the joy that's hidden inside it
to the forked paths i've walked
and everyone I ever was
to the future, and the past,
and all the stories never told
4.
whirly white shadow
covers ever so slightly
seven similar stars
5. on the distant waters of a steel grey sea
i went searching for an escape hatch or a secret door
i went looking for something, anything to get off that ship.
i ran down a hundred carpeted corridors with symmetrical yellow lights and identical red doors
while many men in blue and white suits followed me.
they had a tool, shaped like a spire with a coil of gold around it-
it was made of porcelain, ornamented with tiny symbols that looked vaguely familiar.
they put this to their mouths and made their voices very loud and compelling,
and they screamed at me to stop my legs and to give up my search,
for they said there were no secret doors or hatches around that place.
but the worst part about it was that they kept trying to steal my clothes,
saying they needed to be different colors, and fabrics,
and that they would fix them for me.
and sometimes i would agree with them, but i couldn't understand why
and sometimes i would be them, but i didn't know why.
and sometimes the view from the deck was filled with gears and graphs and levers and pulleys
and i didn't want to see that,
because i knew it might be the way
my eyes might end up one day.
6. the wind is cold but the sun is warm
and I miss the memories that are within my reach
the ghosts around this thin treed street
fly to my window and shake in the night
they come from a hundred miles to drag me back
to a warm yellow world where once there was red
