Nonsense

I do what I detest,
smack lips on unrest, chest heaving
without repreive,
this sin I'm in.

Good is so tiresome,
why so,
toothsome
this grin of sinning,
thinning bone
                   China hair
raising tin
                   roof regalia.

If you were the best of times
I'm mesmerized by the worst
ticking of clocks
                         tocked and talked
out of rhyme.

Mind over matter,
yet what does it matter
when matte pages gloss over
shining smiles...

the isles and aisles of lost integrity
sigh and heave
without reprieve
just grin and whisper

this sin I'm in.

Brevity

October bought colorless contacts
unto eyes hypnotized by travesty,
tripping into tip-toed silences
and mindless droning
of bees.

No mental escape
just the unwinding tape
of a mind
uneased.

Please to purchase
plates dripping in turpentine and plastic
caustic, classic remedy
plead and purchase
enmity.

When all you see is falsehood and
fault lines,
rhymes and rhythms fall short
to retort and remember,
serve only to dismember
the empty agony
lining stomach
with the tick and tinge
of unhinged
sickness.

Where illness beats screams
into deadened waters,
bolted into wayward, side-splitting walls,
madness born
grief.