fat-hand Autocrat
send boys to secure power—
their blood, your story
Category: Poems
Porcelain Beach
Walking along a
porcelain beach that
waves along like a
heartbeat, I look out
and see my progeny.
Do you think he’s
a hypochondriac
like his daddy?
– Tyler Sherwin
Gardenia
I want to tell Gardenia
what to do tonight.
Tell her to grow new Azaleas
and learn how to fight.
I want to tell Gardenia
about the blue moonlight.
Let her know we’ll see years
and it’ll all be alright.
– Tyler Sherwin
Autumn Skin
I see you in the Fall-drenched
mountains and I want nothing
more than to be soaked in you.
I want your autumn hair to
wash over my autumn skin
and soak up the hubris
of my aspirations.
I want to drink the inspiration
dripping from your skin. With you,
I want to feel my cyclical
suffering, but not, for once,
because I hope you can
take it from me.
Instead, as a refreshing change
of season, it’s finally okay to let
darkness lay itself bare.
Knots
Lying in bed, I imagine the small spider on the roof lowering itself onto my lips and crawling into my nose. Up, back, and down my throat it goes, till it reaches a spot it likes and threads a little web. Does web stick to esophagus? If I swallowed food now, would it penetrate the web? Or would I choke and gag while the little spider enjoyed my meal?
The knot in my chest burns again as I stretch my arm above my head. It’s skin cancer. No it isn’t. Yes, yes it is, why else would it still burn after a night’s rest? No, its a knot. Its a knot. Its a knot.
Old Cracked Sidewalks

Boredom

Distorted Reflection

Seeing your distorted reflection in the window
Makes me think this is how it’s gonna be now.
Change will come, change will come, change has come.
Trust me, I’m happy, for you, at least.
We’ve had our time, it’s gone and passed.
I knew these times would never last,
Yet somehow I held on to hope
That by the time it came around
The capacity and strength to cope
Would well up, would abound
Yet now this day’s come,
And here I am.
How disappointing.
Drive

I drive with a blissful melancholy in my head. Chin on fist, elbow on door, there is no rush in me. Finally becoming friendly with the speed limit as I let the others merge, we blend together into one potential disaster. Not today.
Mountains and snow make perfection on the horizon. Nothing longs to be understood, everything to be loved. My life in my hands and those of the traveling souls around me, it continues. It always does. It always does.