words of a people aligned in their perfect order
and it is here
where I throw in the towel
that I’ve carried around with me for these many years.
no longer contributing but relegated now as guest.
to be honest, I couldn’t wait to be out
and now that I’ve written it out loud
we can finally know the truth.
– Hoc Scripsi
slowly slowly
everything is working out
but slowly
I’m a big man getting smaller
but I’ll never be small
I was built for comfort
and post-coital embrace
but I corner well
birds evening song
boys weed in the garden
making way for more weeds to grow and insist
cicadas sound
make love, make love
here I am, waiting out whatever
metal skewers don’t require a soaking
and I love your
face
smooth smooth smooth
a moment of several stages
the first one
hurts hurts strange
and a means of communication
I wave my hands
sidelong and erect
standing to the left of the finished masterpiece
tearing apart
and not taking it
anymore
we’re not taking it anymore
– Hoc Scripsi
I am a man of chronic conditions
and if you bless me I’ll say thanks
but that’s all
no one renders the image well
and while the coffee is hot
the outside is almost hotter
and I eat a pinkish apple
drink bottled water
and stare at your walls
sugarless scenarios
contemplating my next tattoo
I am a spiritual guide
wearing a gun and a leatherman
ready for anything
I’m ready for you
– Hoc Scripsi
