Reorganizing

two and a half months before salvation
my muscles tear against each bone as I wait
distract the brain replacing deadwood with dead weights
salvation to enjoy their happy wrinkled faces
salvation to enjoy softness and extend softness

ten years old but I sought salvation
my lungs pierced by pain but I wait
run along pavement replacing one hurt with another
salvation to hear them recognize the wonder that is me
salvation to hear my own voice over theirs

ten months ago I found salvation
the repertoire of my soul reorganizing and I did not wait
debate oblivious hours placing awe with lust
salvation to revive a trueness of character and a romanticism of heart 
salvation to know my soft voice from theirs 

alongside hers

Slavery

Eastern European slavery must stop
Do not stop
The train tracks must part
Do not part
Two worlds of beauty must crease
Do not crease

Two worlds
Meniscus
Cone
They stop to part and crease

Meniscus
forgiving fat

Creasing train tracks

Cone
taut muscle

Part ways to stop the slaving
Which train

Do stop
Do part
Do crease
Then do not stop
But please stop

Coned meniscus
Meniscus track cones

Crease worlds to continue the slaving
Which world

butiwantbothworldsinMYhandstocarrytomylipsandletitbeENSLAVEDattachedtoyourcreasenotforeverbutlongenoughfortheminiatureexplosionstostopinsidemyheadandjustgivemeonemoreMINUTEeventhoughtheexplosionsstoppedbutiamnotdonerubbingmycheeksagainstyoursbeforemytonguetravelsjustalittleclosertoshoweraffectionandappreciationandaFORGEDhonestyONyourdeadcentereasterneuropreanslavery

No Sensoral Adj No Verb No Noun

TBD

Spins

Sharp grey suit spinnin' wheels on the 59th
Floor the soul and make the trudge to 59th
Street lead not to actualization but to intersection
with Lexington then Park
Wheels churn out tiny 590 million dollar funds
5a-9p
monday to saturdays
sunday spin class and spinning Botox needles
occupy mind street
occupy body street
occupy soul street
olympian creature
refine that apex
sharper

Spinning the sharps
to a receding edge
Particles of the point dusting off
rounder
blunter
Full circle
Wheel around
Back to me
Forth to the curb
But no curb
Just
dirt
grass
water
rock

Wheel the iron against sharp grey suit
Back to
Blunt dull rags

Spin not hamster wheels
But these wheels of mine
Gear and trap
Rhythm of the chain loop with knees that
Heave and depress
Depress and heave
A chest
housing a freed soul

Pedal away from grey concrete
along earth
towards what
full circle seeing 59th
or 
unfathomable space
Herein 
the 
moving
simple
Beauty

The Boss' Son

We washed His car, baring our back to the sun and birds
My free yet shy breasts brushing the black alloy
To be forever frozen at Tanner Stage II
Unbeknownst to me nor the neighbor's boy 
A few years older than me riding his bicycle
back forth back forth past our driveway
To ascertain my free yet shy breasts 
Tanner Stage II
in his ten year old boy eyes
Not seeing that I am just another shirtless boy as he.

We drew diagrams for His business, no limiting by sky or earth
My naive yet racing mind brewing capitalistic magic
To be forever frozen at the Entrepreneurial stage
Unknown to me nor The Boss
A many years older than me running His own show
inspiring creating leaving crumbs along our driveway
To feed my naive yet racing mind
Entrepreneurial soul
in His forty eight year old being 
Seeing that I am to grow into a man as He.

We discussed lovers for Him and me, cocking our worth to the air
My new yet unwavering sureness planting a rock wall
To be forever impregnable as a Man's Ego
Unknowing to my lovers and enemies
A few years before and after lauding and uprooting my driveway 
To add color and clarity to my unwavering Self 
The Boss' Ego
in my twenty five year old existence
Seeing that I have nothing to prove to woman nor man.

We groomed my scholarship, bribing challenges with cotton candy ease
My easy yet directionless Aptitude guided by His wisdom 
To be forever chameleonic as a Renaissance man
Unbecoming to specialized society and modern dogma
A few decades later will see both razed and kneeling at my driveway
To confirm The Boss' reckonings of this Talent
A timeless one 
in the collective memory of ancient kingdoms and the inadvertent fatherhood of The Boss 
Seeing daddy's little girl as His son bequeathed.