the night.

night comes

night comes exhaled in
casually flourishing in the expanse as if we acquiesced to its maturation
planting its flag among the corpses of our plans for the day, unaccomplished
and the cold
glacial, numbing wind searing across flesh and foliage
 air in your lungs like an icestorm
liquid nitrogen eventide

the night is isolation
abandonment and abated breath
a brilliant abattoir of allegiances meant only to separate us and conquer hearts
colonize your capillaries with Cimmerian shade
circumventing circulation

I poured out a little of my drink for her, it froze instantly as it hit the permafrost
exhaled into slow smoke, dancing in the lantern light
frustrated that something so inanimate could take on such life
such alluring life in this ruination and gloom
I miss you
god, I miss you
the way your teeth always backdrop for your smile
the way we interlock perfectly before dreams take us
the way you shuddershake when you climax

you left me

and I go unaccompanied into the night
with this drink and these thoughts
and this lantern
and this love

anamnesis.

as a general rule, I outline their bodies on my bed before we get at it
impersonation and transference
you never had a chance baby, she's taken up residence in my cells
like celestial shorelines and my decaying, elliptical orbit washing you up on the sand
you smell like saltwater and solace
my arms around you,
it feels like abated atom bombs
like we just stopped the world from ending and apocalypse is in purgatory,
The Devil is in bullet-time,
and we just wanna make love.
not monomania, just my heart and yours.
I told myself I don't have to get high to write
I just have to let myself get captivated once more
like pushing myself off a never-ending staircase
I just keep falling,
my perspective is ruined,
if only I wasn't one huge nerve ending.

I'm convinced my entire career in the arts of affection has been an extreme case of somnambulism.

a declaration.

there are
words for this
words, tumbling in my gut like clothing in a dryer
words
meant for 
best man speeches and war cries
there are words for this
what I'm feeling right now, aching core and all
meant for morale-boosting shouts between gunfire
lyrics to a song
sung passionately with entire lungfuls of air, exhumed
oh there are words for this
like every single atom of your body wants to scream them once you find them
my twisting gut, wrapping into itself 
consuming itself like a fire 
there are
words

eulogies

conversations about the meaning of life
congratulatory statements
proposals

there are words for this,
there are.

dancing on anthills.

Debaser Of the Elements, we forgive you we forgive you
corrosion and corruption impatience and disruption
every muscle fiber, every sinew and bone in your body. every sympathetic nerve reaction
aftershocks in my nameaftershocks aftershocks in my name

what drives you to make such mistakes?
in what god's name do you pray to such falsities?
fall prey to such woe?
he makes a soap box with his bare hands, just for you to stand on it and slit your wrists?

dancing on anthills
you know not what you do
who says you should be forgiven for anything?
who says?
yet we forgive you, don't we.
Us.
the choir of integrity,
the army of rectitude,
standing fast against the onslaught of that which breaks our hearts with such voracity that one can't help but feel as though there is nothing left but this moment here now, these mere seconds where we find out who is made out of concrete and who is made out of copper.

.

.
Are our secrets alive?
.
Does the pulse of their heartbeat echo inside your head, loud as recurring atom bombs?
.

deductive abhorrence.

I
taught
her
to
howl
I pressed shirts with her words and gave them out to the crowds
the message is in the eclipse
stare directly at the sun until you are as enlightened as the rest
all wearing her words
hurled worlds
use this as a panacea

the boy that sleeps in the thesaurus with a shell of a woman
the Acrobat and the Audience
amplification of clarity and focus / we sorted you out good
sleep tight! larvae to pupae to critic to cannibal
Claude Monet death-strokes
flickering images and the scent of regret
the blur of a fog so dense,
cataract smiles,
paralysis sex,
the forced quarantine of the most popular leper in the world.

your! crotch! is a! shanty-town!
and you shout brief interludes of silence
a mouth void
a caricature of a black hole on a screen, in a huge theater full of nothing but seats
your audience is seats

she
taught
me
to
pray
as I sat there, in my goddamn captain's chair, barking demands at the ocean
I wondered
what it would be like
to love Jesus

I still wear her words at night I swear I won't tell anyone but I still wear her words at night I swear I won't tell anyone and I still wear her words at night I swear I can't tell anyone but I still wear her words at night I try to take them off but I can't, I still wear her words at night promise not to tell anyone but I still wear her words at night oh god please don't tell anyone oh I still wear her words at night and I haven't told anyone but you I still wear her words at night I swear I won't tell anyone but I still wear her words at night, they bathe my dreams in direction

ruiner. ruiner. ruiner. ruiner. ruiner. ruiner. ruiner. ruiner. ruiner. ruiner. ruiner. ruiner. ruiner. ruiner. ruiner. ruiner.

feel sick I feel sick I feel sick I feel
for what it's worth
cannibalized the last of you
remnants on my hands and on my face
but I miss you, no
bandages on my fingers
they make it hard to type
I caught you in the wilderness
stalked you
and for a while
for a while you made the earth seem to stop
for a while
you made the trees clean and my bones soft
you made silence so loud
when I held you
freckles like constellations, you were my own universe
but I did what I do and I do it well
this mess
can't be cleaned up
by anyone

get off your high horse.

Hey, all. one of the poems from this blog has been featured on the front page of Haggard & Halloo Publications today. "octopus."

check it out here: http://www.haggardandhalloo.com/2012/03/10/octopus/

Thanks for the continued interest and support.

- DJN

mis.tress

when I told you I was covered in Black Nail Polish and swimming
deep-like
struggling against wood grain and lapsing
(come coma with me!)
I wasn't lying
but amidst a valley of screams you couldn't hear anything wrong
I gave you the latitude and longitude
and you handed me back a compass covered in feces
shrugged your shoulders,
and walked off of the Earth

a trash can filled with tissues

I don't even want your shadow in my night if it's going to be that vague

truthfully, I'm just a boy who likes falling in love.