Gratuitous Platypus Pictures

This is obviously the most important piece of literature written in the history of humanity. Fuck you Bible, fuck you Rosetta Stone, and especially you Stephanie Myers.

These are cuter than your children. Even the ones related to me.

"I present to you the awesome you can NEVER be.

"LOOK AT ME, BITCH, LOOK AT ME WHILE I SWIM OVER YOU!"

Heart of June

Your heart

(the zodiac in June)

leaning towards December

not the passage of time

this must be the rhythm

or dimensionalless pulse

do you hear the vibration

of the way you are designed?

Simple or silent orchestra

these are the stars!

Constellations speaking,

in the heart of June.

Half Existence

A feeling of things half existing
there would be a ghost if
I chose to make one up.
Here we are, learning to crystalize,
lock in our science of emotion.
And, I am everything I feel.
Tonight this is all I am,
doing everything halfway.
Not the least of things, dreaming
with a heart of fire, heart of stone.
Here are these ancient things,
ancient desires I once knew
only through inference
from secondhand sources.
Now I know too much.
Shooting at targets
no one else can see.
How do I know if
these things are real?

Haiku I

Somethings too easy -
the heart of the summer sounds.
You must close your eyes.

Untitled III

This must be where we come
to become what we are.
A universe unto its self.
Existance the only answer
to the question of creation.
A sigh of life where we do not look back
for fear of becoming that pillar of salt.

How cold the transformation
but, still I am reminded of your scent
you, a dimension all your own.
(more heart than anything)

All around me, the hazards.
I could not spare myself for any light
the distance to stars, dark matter.

The secrets and math of the cosmos
speak like Oracles to me
it is something made
to bring you to me.

I Could Not Do For Fear of Life

I could not do for Fear of Life.

That I was, and could be,

this was my greatest downfall.

This was the crux of my suicide,

that I would survive to live

and thus to pain and loss.

If before I knew only the Fear

of Youth and Early Death

this has changed to love

of self, of the earthly ethereal.

Like an Easter morning,

this is me risen all the same.

There is no healing

without some hurt.

A House Like a Double Breasted Suit

This is what happens when I look at too much modern architecture...

I want to build us a house

like a double breasted suit.

At once to hide, and also

to portray our parts,

our shoulders, our stance.

It will not go out of fashion.

The slate grey paint will not fade.

You and I shall live there.

Like men, refined, aloof, strong, together.