Elsewhere and Third

On the path outside where the crackhouse was last seen
you will find a flask half full of a brew, green.

Take it
and then make a hard left at the old bar.
Pass the chopshop, you’ll see a pristine powder blue car.

Pull the handle.
Notice the pigions refuse to scramble.
Grab the small key, a matchbook and the tall candle.

Sit in the drivers seat,
take a shot from the canteen.
Count to three.
Hold the break down.
Turn the key.

The car will rumble hard. The sky on the left will get cloudy.
The air turns on on its own. It will smell like your uncle Charlie

who told you once on a spring night in east tampa
that one day you would grow to be a great champion.

You’ll be scared.
Don’t mind it.
Dont’t fight it.

There will be a white flash from behind that turns violet.
The street undernight will shine like new jello.
Light the candle. Outside a thousand flames will surround you.

Wave to the girl in the car to right. It will calm you.
Let go of the gas.
Let the car move beyond you.

You will stop at a glass castle
in a forest of tall fractels.
Drink some more.
Count to ten.
Open the door.

dictionaryofobscuresorrows:

n. the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own—populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness—an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate…

(via theceesupreme)

nevver:

Start Swimming

jonathanbrownpoetry:

To Whom It May Concern:

Careful is not how we tell the truth.

Don’t get lost in process of losing faith

in yourself, in your purpose, in your ability, in your work

in yourself, in your mind, in your love, in your thirst

for yourself, for the ocean, for the earth, for the…

visual-poetry:

by barbara kruger

Always one of my favorites. One of the fathers of us all.

Head to 2.22 for the reading

(via my-ahh)

youwiththeanchoredeyes:

Praise the evening. How it closes like a safety pin. Sometimes suddenly but often with purpose. Praise the purpose that sits behind the wheel of your words. Praise the wheeling of hours and the people who spin them with you. Praise the breakable neck of it all and how easily things fall apart but love you are a safety pin holding it all together.