Trace William Cowen.

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to Robbie and his planet:

Been a long time since I
last saw
Robbie
Lived in that house with the
pale blue
Awning
Right now I would guess he’s
asleep or
Yawning

Hey Robbie
the Earth is blue
on paper maps and atlases
and spinning globes too

Hey Robbie
look what I drew
it’s a picture of the Earth
and it’s crushing you

Why do you wear it as a
back
pack
?

Don’t you know you’re meant
to burst and spring
to roam on it
?

this Earth will curve your spine
if you’d only give it time

yes this Earth will break your back
you’re not alone in that

Robbie you’re not alone

We share these broken bones.

Tags: /Trace William Cowen /Trace-William-Cowen /tracewilliamcowen /art /artist-Trace-William-Cowen /Robbie

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jaw

Doing so well I can hardly
breathe
The truth is a lie I chose to
believe
We all share a mouth we are separate
teeth
We all share the pain of each little
cavity

When it’s all too real
When it’s all too much
We’ll remove them ourselves
with a surgical touch

And replace them
with hippopotamus
tusks

Ivory

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The Right to Privilege

I don’t want to talk
vague
give me something specific

I don’t want to play the
game
I just want to get winded

I do not wish for life
to be
brief and easy

but I often
dream
of colors without the bruising

I am free!
I am free!
in this endless prison

I am free
Let me be
Confused.
Or conflicted.

a choice but my
choosing
barely makes a difference

a song or a singer
Make
your decision.

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Sanity Mirror

Throwing
books and marbles at you
Anchor
drifting brain
Here’s
the keys to every castle
Locks
are all the same

Well

I pawned the books

I lost my marbles

But I’m eating good chow mein.

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portraitorn

I could make friends
with these ghosts

The ghosts of them
with
biggest
blue
eyes
The ghosts of them
with
vapid
loose
thighs

“I love you”
goes the song that plays
On and on
and through the days
Off and off
pleasure
haze

The song lied
The hero died

I made them
so
they’re property
commodity
come on to me

All my life is product

May the market want
May the people need

All my life is product

Cheap

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You Should Really Play the Flute

I have to hate
the industry
There’s really nothing left
I have to wear
these penciled clothes
Or learn to get
permanently dressed

See, all I have
are words and thoughts
a mind that no one sees
All I’ve learned
is these doors are
locked
and won’t open
with
piano keys

“Get yourself a locksmith!”

No, I’d rather lose the weight

And crawl between
the space beneath
the door
the floor
The distance
brief
from “No!”
to poor

I know
they’ll barricade with cupcakes
Speak loudly
the pleasures of immobility

So I’ll never fit beneath that door
I’ll never see the room

Like we never know a mind
the truth
of someone else
Not you

Like you’ll never know
which way you’ll go
‘till you’ve gone
and mapped the route

I knock forever
there’s no one there
tap
tapping
the industry tune

“Settle down now
Settle down now
You know we all
play the flute
You beating drums
You cymbals crash
But it’s settled
We all play flute”

Chromatically
I resign
a single note
a simple line

“Settle down now
Settle down now”

I know you’ll sing along

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Bodies of Water

The puddle grows
envy
green
For the vastness of the river
the ocean’s endless blue
For the swimming pool shiver
and the lake’s toothless hue

“My existence only tethered
to the moods
of God
or weather.”

The puddle looks to them
for all that he could
The puddle looks to them
for all that he should
Be!
Be!

But he’s only
envy
green
As am I
for an eventual me

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Blanket

I’m in the business of
enemies
not friends
Wake up in the morning
to begin again
not end

I’m sitting on
four wheels
Sleeping on
an engine
Turning over
pavement
Splitting
precipitation

And I’m not sure
how much
But I know
this isn’t enough
And I don’t know
what
But I know
this isn’t done

Blanket
I’ve got a fleece
Blanket
in the backseat
Blanket
I’m
Wrapping up!

Are the days long?
Does the song drag on?
I’m older now
than when I was young
That’s what I have learned

Numbers
I’m
Wrapping up.
Twenty
three
Wrapping up.

Digital something
Analog nothing
The cave of the mind
is a cold retreat
Leaving something
for damn near nothing
The promise of a life
is a frozen treat

Work for nothing
Work for nothing
So
one day
when you’re older
You can
Look for something
Look for something

Time remains
at the end of the day
That’s profit
Invest it.
Invest it.

I’m all wrapped up
Snoring.

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The Rabbit Wears a Hat

“I don’t care about anything!”
He says
He pouts
He sits
Without
something to believe in then what of all the dreaming
What of all these dreams?

“I don’t believe in anything!”
She prays
She doubts
She admits
Without
a face to imagine then what of all the magic
What of all these magicians?

I believe in nothing
and I care so much of it.

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Sides of the Bed

AM static
Radio wake
Hallway stumble
Cookie bake
False alarm
Chocolate cake
Falser alarm
Just food dreams
Boiling water
Coffee black
Oatmeal fodder
Jelly toast stack

Presentable clothes
We all work hard
to fit into our
Presentable clothes

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