5-8 A Year and A Half of Therapy

I take my shirt off.
I am a furry, built man,
who am I,
looking back at me,
desiring,
what have I done,
to take this shirt off,
and become,
this furry, built,
sexy man,
I see,

one year and a half,
of therapy.

I see,
me.

05-7 Unlocked #12 Cursed

I am flesh,
bitten, beneath you,
trembling, when you become,
more man, than monster,
as man and monster,
and I feel you,
as man and monster,
on me, pushing in,
caressing me,
waking in me,
the monster who turns,
to man, to find comfort,
in you when I am more flesh,
than spirit, bitten,
trembling, you push,
hold, and breathe,
the touch, pushing in,
holding, breathing,
I become man,
you become monster,
awake, trembling,
we are both,
man and monster,
and I feel you,
becoming more
monster than man,
and I can't take you
pushing in, holding,
biting, caressing, because
I need a man, more than
I need a monster, and you
desire a man, not a monster,
and I am not sure, we
know who is with us,
now in my flesh,
caressing, pushing in,
trembling, touching,
man or monster,
who?

so I say,
no.

becoming man,
watching a monster,
desire a man,
desire,
touch,
hold,

so I say,

no.

5-6 My Hands Listen

what you need most,
my crazy little sparrow,

is

to hold still,
quiet,
in the palm,
of my hand,
where I hold you,

not a song,
or a note,
or a tune from,
your feathers shake,

in a song,
and a note,
from a tune,
in your eyes awake,

held, still,
in the quiet,
of the palm,
of my hand,
where I listen,

to you,
my crazy little sparrow,
sing.

5-5 In Which Mr. Snow Becomes My Fan

I am a monkey,
in a cage,
there is poop in my hand.

this is a poem,
which rhymes,
and repeats.

I am a monkey,
in a cage,
there is poop in my hand,
it smells bad.

this is a poem,
which rhymes,
and repeats,
and retreats.

I am a monkey,
in a cage,
there is poop in my hand,
it smells bad,
so I fling it,

this is a poem,
which rhymes,
and repeats,
and retreats,
several times,

I am a monkey,
in a cage,
there is poop in my hand,
it smells bad,
so I fling it,
wing it,
at my number one fan.

this is a poem,
which rhymes,
and repeats,
and retreats,
several times,
because I am.

5-4 At The Table

the sweetest man said yes,
but I said no,

quietly to him,
with the sweetest of smiles,
then he said, okay,

but his hand said no,
I had to say yes,

and now,
he smiles sweetly,
leaving,

and I,
leave,
my entrails,
ripped from my stomach,
an incomplete,
feast for the ravens,

endure.

5-3 I Am Only A Child

I am only,

a child in the arms,
of my father,
I don't know,
if you love me,
because I am
physically beautiful,

or
if you want me,
because I am
physically beautiful,
I am only,

a child in the arms,
of my father, I don't
understand, if you,
love me,

because,
I am,
mentally beautiful,
or

if you want me,
because I am mentally,
beautiful to you,
in your arms, I am
only a child,

looking for his father,
I am a child,
beautiful,
but I am,
a child,
mentally,

and you are not,
my father,
do you understand?

I need love,
I need affection,
I need to be told,
I am physically,
beautiful, I am
mentally,
beautiful,
I am capable,
of

being,
loved,
wanted,
by you,

but I don't know,
because,

in your arms,
I am only,
a child,
and the physical man,
you hold, is still,

only a child,
beautiful,
fragile,
afraid.

trust.

5-2 Mother Mine- Mt. Saint Helens

She.

in her temper,
lashes out,
rapes the land,
with her ash driven,
wind-blown fury,
then,

We.

surrender,
as a crumpled piece of paper,
in her trash can,

She.

picks us up, smooths us out,
using green and brown crayons,
tries, traces,
the outline, of who

We.
were, but,
She.

is afraid of us now,
her maw, her rib cage,
her cheeks turned inside out,
burning,

are still screaming,
at,

Us.

in horror, screaming at her,
in horror, but she, we cannot stop,
trying to erase, trace, color over,
hide, that

She.

is mother, and

We.

are her children.