RR

Tout Omnia Tutto Todo

Tout omnia tutto todo

 

I’ve dabbled in it all

Enough to make this mustache remarkable—

believable

Enough to make these knuckles crooked—

broken

Enough to not trust my own fingertips

 

I’ve seen the sun set over psychic tears

purple, only purple, over the ocean

over brains, melted, melting

Rivers crackling electric synapse washed out to sea

bobbing up the seagull shit

Lost steel cartons of China

Tuna chin

Albatross eyes rolling tide

 

I’ve watched thighs twist with sweat

naked torsos

naked breasts

I’ve wondered if they will connect with my own

A foot a toe a mouth

I’ve seen the connection

Sperm and discharge

Blood and miscarriages

Tears over mushroom risotto

I don’t love you anymore

the sun sets

purple

again

 

I’ve wandered in rain in London looking for a man

I’ve seen ghost father there, gold

in the gray

in the shadow

in the yellow street lamp

His thin mustache—remarkable

believable

 

We’ve hugged

we’ve parted

we’ve come back together

we’ve said goodbye

for good

 

I’ve seen you

In your watermelon underwear

In a turquoise bath in Mexico

In hell, pure hell

In a piss filled pool in Maui

In a piss filled future in Raleigh

 

I’ve seen us

in invisible underwear

behind the veil of brain

underneath the umbrella of Satan

In an empty pool in Los Angeles

In a bed without a frame

waiting for the angels

 

I understand those tears

pumping saline mushrooms

Those heels and hells and pictures of friends in paradise

I can pick apart colors of yesterday with a tooth

or suck the bottom rainbow beer

Toast you the uncertainty of tomorrow

watch it slither down my stem

Sixteen millimeter reels of real unwinding celluloid vapor

a new spine

 

Always tie your shoes

Don’t ever trip

Too hard

Don’t ever fall

Too hard

I’ll see it, I’ll be there, I’ll watch the sun set on you

Purple

 

Carry you

Thin

Mustachioed

Remarkable

Believable

 

All the way home,

tout omnia tutto todo

Contributor
Justin J. Murphy

Justin J. Murphy was born in London to a Lebanese father and Californian mother. Clearly, “Murphy” is not his real last name. He enjoys mountain life, cosmic vibrations, and good old rock and roll. His poetry and short stories have been featured in Epicenter, The Café Review, El Portal, and Sixfold as well as several other fine publications. His novel, Whiskey Jelly Blues, will be published in Fall 2018 by Owl Canyon Press and a second novel, Let Me Tell You How It Isn’t, will be published in Summer 2019 by Pelekinesis.

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