BLEED THRU THE CRACKS

i keep doing
& if i do hard enough

& dont look
into the morning mirror

then i might
bleed thru the cracks

& stain the stage
& make them see

after the curtains are down

& the lights are up

what it looks like

to keep doing

& the true-crime 

look of it all

THIS IS WHY THERE ARE SEDATIVES

& my brain
is thinking 

about my brain
with my brain

like a ladder trying
to climb itself

a mirror turning its back 

in a mad effort to see

ALL THE MORNING FARTING

 

just a middle-aged man

eating the only apple he can

in front of the bathroom mirror

hes counting knives in his head
pondering level 2

& the things rock stars said

~

apple skin stick-stuck 

between teeth of course

     

& all the morning hes farting 

     

farting H E L P in morse

BED FLOP TRUDGE

  waiting on anyone
  sounding board
  sponge
  or
  missive

so i may pronounce an anecdote

  to see the mirror
  &
  confirmation
  of 

  interaction

in the mornings long
bed flop trudge

FOR CONFIRMATION

off winters berm
&
inside summers umber

i
read
back
my
own
book
words

by the fire escape drop
& 
the snow shovels cobs

for existential confirmation
in the hereditary mirror

from pinterest

GUEST POST, WHAT KIND OF MIRROR by Ron Heckert

What kind of mirror is this anyway?

And another day became another day.

I am writing this for posterity, to look back on in future times, better times hopefully, but worse isn’t wholly unlikely.

This space ship to Mars just keeps on travelling. 

There is an end to this journey, eventually, but whatever. 

On this day here I was/am/be, bored and uneasy, in my little spacetime travelling pod.

I drink a hard seltzer or two. 

I smoke a bit of pot.

I find myself at this daily; a drink, or two, or three; a hit, or two, or four. 

I play video games in VR. 

I play guitar. 

I talk to my co-inhabitants. 

I rotate, from station to station every half hour or so.

I look at awful facebook videos of awful people being awful.

What kind of a mirror is this, anyway?

I walk in circles.

I talk in half thoughts.

I smoke cigarettes and I KNOW it’s gross and may give me cancer.

I think boring thoughts in a stream.

I pause to pee in a stream.

The stream is not a brook, but it babbles as much as my prostate will allow.

My mind babbles too, constantly.

What kind of mirror is this, anyway?

It’s all I got.

This fool was alive, once.

from media.vam.ac.uk

THE TARGET & THE TARGET MISSED

writing
if it works out right

well
its like a mirror

a mirror with balls


~


i hear cars in the distance
&
i see the birds on the wing

i hear the diesel 
running the post van
& 
the day pigeons sing

im on the daybed
doing nothing -
my thing

DIY MEAT CLINIC

you dont do anything
but you hit an angle
& something hurts 
& you go to the mirror
& you look in the mirror
& you dont see anything
but you do see him
& you dont know
what he feels like

theres nothing to be done 

in 

the 

diy meat clinic 

today

from mirror.co.uk

MIRROR GLIMPSE MANIPULATION

these corner-eye
&
then wide-eye
mirror glimpses

theres no 
dorian gray
in there

my grandfathers gut & hairline
sneaked in
while 
i 
was 
endurance testing the sofa

keep on keeping on
why-not regardless 
& 
whatever deluded

mirror now
is
my
squinted mists of grace

from michellehenry.fr

DR MOON

leave objectivity
to
the
moon

we all got
a favourite mirror

from huffingtonpost.com

CHILD INSIDE

like a tree does
he
layered
a
man
around himself

from
laughter & denim
from
night-smoke & circus mirrors

collecting
small collections
of
glass & steel

&
he raped the void
with
sarcastic rebar

soft & hiding
on the
hard train

rolling rolling
magnetic
tape

~

sometimes he calls up
how did i do ?

you did ok
i tell him

careful not to hurt
his delicate feelings

but i miss you

from mizzoumag.missouri.edu

PICASA MADRIGALS, WEIRD PRAYER & FEVER DREAM

PICASA MADRIGALS - HEY ! EVERYDAY ?

THREE WATER POPS

my mirror
is
broken water
in
the
gone
of
the hospital lights

~

the mornings
nevertime
has
the 
daily instructions there in the glass

and
i
feel
like
an
automaton
in
supermarket fancy dress

on a stony beach
with a 99 i cant eat

in english rain

~

and if i used to wear all blue

well
whats
it
to
you ?

i used to pretend
i
was
the
sea

from tripadvisor.co.uk

THAT AUTUMN THAT BREAKDOWN

  i felt the earth turning then
 when time  attacked  before dawn

    i  trod carefully
      in strobe lights
   on somethings edge 
        and
       fell
   down the day
       into 
         a
 peaceless knotted 3 am night

   i had no continuity 
       there  were
 strangers in the mirror

   it was a release  long coming
  antique pressure 
           mushrooming     
            in
           the
          golden
      ziggy   stardust
           leaves

  and my monday morning therapy
      was a  me  hour
       after
       the
     tears
        dried
       in  a
 winter low  white wine  sun

from lessprit.deviantart.com

HE SHOULD HAVE LOOKED SOMEWHERE ELSE

tired
man 
in the bathroom mirror
looked
for
truth
in the u-bend
and
said this
  
  'cant think of a better metaphor
  more suited to life
  than 
    pissing
  your own 
    shit stains 
  away
  in
  the dull mid-morning'

but
to his credit
the
tired
man
in the bathroom mirror
looked
very
unsure