Tuesday, October 21, 2014

Then Surely Got Better

I lean toward empty spaces--
The day's last light
When you meditate your own bones again
I eat my own death
I cut my own eyes on reality
Sitting on my chair in the darkened theater
I write flaming texts to live by 
As I trace all of our lousy grief
I know the sky will open up
And I know the river will quiet
I will drink the wind of children running
My brain the axis of a revolving hula hoop
In addition, living in the illogic of magic(what is thought to be) 
a strange science

Monday, October 20, 2014

Twilight Jesus meditated in the center of his room waiting for symbols to save him, hoping to gather everything that might start a fire. He met a guy who burned infinity in a joint. He told Twilight it was marsh hay and shredded love letters, the guy who burned infinity. In his room, Twilight closed his eyes and witnessed something like invisible suns within, fragments of past and present, east and west, connected to the body, he was a guy investigating infinity, he was a guy who drank infinity, his eyes were like open doors. Things that end belong to time, not infinity. He put love into the raven. Gathered present and past, east and west into himself. He left out the things that end. The world is disappearing but nothing ends.

Image: Composite: kn.

Sunday, October 19, 2014


I followed Twilight Jesus dressed in rags, he followed a beggar in rags, we were three beggars. The beggar we thought would lead us to heaven, instead he wandered around aimlessly, finally went down some rickety stairs to a 12 step meeting room. Twilight went right up to the podium to speak.

"My heart's been sick with a deep wound. I have seen the naked sky. I have walked upon the earth. Some things are best learned moving forward through the storm, laughing at what the surface of things is saying."

Saturday, October 18, 2014

Twilight Jesus received this letter.

Dear Twilight,

it continues to be unsettled here.  the sun is out, and the air is hot as if it had come out of a furnace.  i hear distant thunder, however, and it seems to be coming this way.  For the first time i encountered the term –zombie apocalypse-.  this phenomenon involves zombies taking over the planet, eating human brains.

in my opinion,  we are all waiting in quiet despair, fear and loneliness. our brain is the seat of justice. in my opinion, we are all zombies of a sort. cannibalism is taboo.  But we also must remember that you asked us to eat your flesh. in my opinion, even symbolically, we are not supposed to eat our own kind.


Josh Grace

Dear Josh,

It's been this way for as long as I remember. Everything is cannibalism. And all of it beautiful, too, if we'd just let it be. I suppose the joke is on me. We are all the "we" in countless poems, tales from the margin. 

If you have any mercy, eat my heart as your own. Let it beat within you. So I'll be alive again, at least for a while. Then let it die softly as I sleep dreaming of the sadness of everything, death kicking at our heals, of holy illumination and the numerous lotus-lands of possibilities. 

Yours truly,


Image: Mendoza, Composite kn.

Friday, October 17, 2014

Our Curve of Time

Marbles rolling in my skull 
Its all about the bats in the belfry making me stronger 
The laughter is all around, breathe it in 
Like Davey Crockett I keep my raccoon hat fluffed
The Canyon wren
Like too many things to see in white skies 
Do you see the adrenaline pumping in my skull?
Do you see my words trembling?
Do you see the color of my prayers?
In the white noise so many things just called human
Ripping myself apart harder and harder to bear
You see the temple of the Holy Spirit
Outside a ruined palace
Forgiven through an inherited state of blessed holy conversion
We don’t remember and 
We don’t care 
But we ALL know
We all know the tears and the despondency locked in our chests 
Like seeds of torment
Children in a tragic state of grief
There is nothing left 
It has all been hijacked
Like yesterday and the day before 
And the day before

Image: Roger Ballen, Composite kn.

Thursday, October 16, 2014


It's sucking life from young bones again
without even a rattle.
I insist, it's gobbling up life again
the shooting of heroin.

The blood dog from hell
freezes the teeth,
tightens the noose,
faster than darkness,
silences singing,
a loaded gun under the bed,
tighter than a tourniquet,
running the red lights,
with orders to kill,
counting the doomed,
cursed by the sword,
crawling like a cockroach,
hands around the throat,
blade across the windpipe,
the sniper taking aim,
the collector of tears.

The hollow drum beats louder.
The bleak voice converses with ghosts.
Lost footsteps disappear down the empty street.

Image: Composite, kn.

Wednesday, October 15, 2014

Twilight Jesus

Twilight Jesus dreamed in metaphor. When he was human he did not believe in magic. In our world he was not beautiful. He had a rainforest of scars for a face and two black holes for eyes. He lived outside in his wheelchair down an unlit hallway of an abandoned motel. This earth was his hell. 

You never start a legend with an ugly person. SoTwilight became beautiful over the years. He was strange too, wanting to stare at the stars for hours and hours. All his dreams, all his wishes fluttered away like a moth in the meadow. To be pure? What does that mean?

Entwined in
Deep-blue darkness
He dreams not to
Light, but to infinite wilderness.
He stands in
Alone and
And blooming
Joyfully floating.

His weightlessness
Like perpetual drowning
As if
Death waits
To decide whom to call
And scatters the remains
With the ash and strivings
Of angels.

Image: kn. Composite