my ricky is every dollar spent 

and every missing hour

the oceans motions and pure devotion

my ricky is unyielding longing

and the sweat on my brow

the spit in my mouth that isn't mine

the water under the bridge that bubbles up and over it

my ricky is the hallowed breath of accompanied nights

the crook of a neck and the nose nestled into it

and every reformation and reworking

my ricky is the systematic windings of vacant thought

and the circular motion of obsession

 

 

Bend it backwards

Sheet metal is malleable 

Force it till it starts to crack

Reshape and reform like it means something

Spend your time in the dump

Repurposing trash

Sometimes discards are that for a reason

But most damaged goods just need some tape

Shake the gloves you picked up off the ground

Soggy and soaked with road salt

One wash would fix them if you had a machine

Build a machine

Build a device to reform the misshapen

Nothing happens without desperation

Change comes from need

Waow

there's a square around our people

box it in with cardboard bottoms

throw a stone into a beehive

put your fist right through the wall

the Reich fist is wielding 

in its enclosed palm

apartheid money and child miners dead for emeralds

there's a square around our people

they built it with buzzwords and scapegoats

the woke tore down america

but trump will save us all

hes sending all the best at beating wives and beating cases

hes helping you i swear

calling them aliens isn’t racist

you always want to be the victim

but the walls are closing in now

have you read the executive orders?

he’s rerigging the system

the great white man is under attack

mass deportations might just save him

hitler’s playbook in the stack

on his bedside table

he just likes history you fag

we aren’t nazis we don’t like labels

we aren’t nazis we just want it all back

so give it here don’t be unfaithful

theres a square around our people

but the UCP is here to help

lets build the oligarchy and damn all the queers to hell

lets drill baby drill

the east face of the rockies won't resist

oh, we're poisoning the water?

banning books might be the fix

there's a square around our people 

built of comfort and convenience

have your morning coffee and pretend that you don't see it

get all hot and bothered about the crazies on public transit

tell the immigrants to go back home 

Poilievre aint that bad kid

Tell me all about how hard life is

And how you just tune it out

Live your life as normal pretend that everything is fine

In your bed, high and mighty while people freeze outside

“I would fight against facism but I just don’t have the time!”

 the ocean is something i haven't seen in a while

but everything still comes in waves

ebbing and flowing

tidal and rogue 

battered shores and fine sand

not finite

like your eyes inches from mine and our breath in each others mouths

everything comes in waves

pound the seawall and spill over

i am a coastal city 

anticipation is all i know

the ocean is something i haven't seen in a while

but the slow

methodic erosion

feels like my walls stripping away

grout washing out

is a lot like letting you in

waves dictated by ebbs and flows

pushes and pulls

torrential rain and frigid currents

feels like hot breath and home brew lube

overcast skies are your callsign

let me pour myself into you

let me tell you something

what is that

this isnt meow

words i say often

interjection is my best friend

trust not

the corners of your eyes

believe not what they are selling you

that guy from high school subbed to your of

what the hell

measures of separation are important

    frosted window sill

few breaths from sleep

open mouth and free flowing drool

the ceiling looks like holes and mold

and the things i say are stand up for uninterested crowds

my fingers

are pliable but not independent

is that gout or paranoia

drugs or deprivation

my body

is coalescing into something greater

emulsification of dyke night and bite marks

walking contradiction

i can't figure out quite when freaky got hot

and maybe it still isnt

december

 everything frosts over

hands too

fingers shake and knuckles gesticulate

particular twitches come from Abilify

others from the creatures in my veins

hands

two

thats how many i have

one for the railing 

one for holding doors

my hair is good for two things

it keeps me warm and finds me a bed

put my swag on

i meticulously curate my appearance 

if i didnt they'd ghost me

cold snaps in ogden

id eat flesh for snowpants

not for me

id hand them out

i have a bush i like sleeping in anyways

shrooms w ricky after dark in the daytime

his eyes are wells i suck his soul from

angel eyes my fuel for pain tolerance

intensity is cheerios in a dog bowl and mauled necks

tell me about your lover

she seems like a chill hang