paradise.

here is the slow old sound,
the whole thing set to rest
by the unending curls of the soft cool pacific
dropping her ears again and again
on the rocks
on the sand
on the shore.

today i can lie,
eyes in the clouds
arms and legs dangling like confetti
into the deep.

sun and surf reverberating,
perfect cool nights'
shining rays
and
elusive air through
the shuddering fingers of palms

paradise leaves but one question left.

am i the sleeper or the sleep?

one hanau

homeland

in the one horse town after all.
same dank yellow on the lights.
one story houses, one story scene.
it is the warmest i have felt in years.

after all of the ambition
all of the glam
the women
the scams
hillbilly
hellbent
searing
and sand.
all has been settled
to elbow room,
and the immediate gaze,
filling stars
lost in haze
of late nights
luminescence
and the aspirations
of
a
demon
said
and
done.
mistakes are made
all of the time
every day.
here keeps it small.
here keeps it inconsequential.
only flesh.
only blood.
only all of what you are.

seems a small price to have
on the chopping block
under the butchers' gaze.

nodding out

the years of water and sand
grime and grit
an occasional boulder
footfall

pulling down through mountains
wearing them
hasn't stopped
has barely begun
hasn't asked why
or when
or who
would be left
when the last castles fall.