Moved to Wordpress

I have moved the whole shebang to Wordpress. It looks and feels better.

Madhatterpoems.wordpress.com

The URL was generated and I'm not crazy about it but come on by.

Poem 49

There's jerk in the sound if final game smokejumper haloes remember
We have never been to the Utah dime stores.
I walk wield a window wool scarf
It sheds theism like a duck sheds water.

There can bend now trees out of the agenda forest,
They will clamor for the disk and the thumb drive brain song
But they will never find us alone and harmed again.
We was armed before they alarmed us to their charms.

I bring shotguns to make peace with the element
I bring south funds to make peace for the enemy,
I bring shotgun medicine for the enemy to be cured on.

poem 48

Plus sized raven eyes spied me from high above

the world clocks face.

i was cutting time in tune to rhyme crimes

left in the dirt of my underused youth.

i curled an ode into a fist and hurt myself

getting out of bed.

three commas harassed my prom queen dream scheme

until the seams split, revealing gleaming metal teeth.

grammar will always fuck you, that way.

Poem

Grackles harass the cat as he lays at my feet, pacified on dried food.
He says he'll chase one later when it's not so hot out.
He's a perfect killer.
A bundled mass of death and fury.
But he's a lazy bastard sometimes
And it is pretty hot.

jack

i had a dog named jack.

he was a great dog, my favorite so far.

an irreplaceable little mutt

who would wait for me at the end

of the driveway for my return from school.

he didn't know he would be shot

one day by the neighbor.

he never questioned fate

never thought of that day

never contemplated mortality

never sat up late smoking,

wondering why he kept going.

he was a dog, the best dog.

happy to be a dog.

how goddam lucky he was.

Random poem

Hydraulic sign siding for the enemy
Call down the wrath of Odin on us now.
Footage spring.
Spake of nothing swell.
Dad is loose in the mind.

I'm in the pit of the hell I created and there are no judgement day preachers big enough to pull this rusty truck of me out.

Loans recalled in loves and life I lingered too long over.
Interest in speaking howls instead of jargon make the Swiss army heart wary for new planets and constellation erections.

This bro is the end.

Honeymoon in hell

My marriage is collapsing under the weight of my own inability to get my shit right. The pressure to leave art for the family is overwhelming. I am on the verge of huge breakthroughs but I keep getting snatched back from them by talks, lectures, ultimatums, failure parades, and the mundane. This thing I decided to pursue is selfish. It eats time and attention and I have been living in my own head more than in the house. Something is going to break.

I am in limbo. Awaiting the next fight or the next stupid thing I do to push me over into spiraling depression and anxiety is terrible. There is no clear path ahead and the woods go on forever.

Art is no fun anymore. It's a choice that comes with emotional shotgun blasts.