The Castle in the Woods

In the woods there was a castle

Or maybe it was a tree house

Okay it was actually a card board box, but who am I to know what is and wasn’t

It wasn’t a castle, it wasn’t a tree house, I don’t even think it was a card board box

But that’s where she kissed me for the first time

I was a human, I know what those are, maybe

She was a fox

Not in the way we talked in bars but in the way we talked in the sand box

Not in the way she moved her body, but in the way she moved my hands

But she was probably a scorpion, definitely in the way she moved along my back

She asked me to go on an adventure with her, howling at the stumps around our castle

I crawled through her bushy tail and between her claws and told her we could be kings or prisoners

She coiled around my human body, and placed her fox face on my human one as the rain began to fall

Our castle began to melt, the tree house fell into the leaves, and the card board box was carried away by the worms

We mourned the place that I couldn’t remember

We swam above the rain, through the trees, and beneath the clouds, kings and prisoners together

She bit at my ankles and stung me between the eyes

She cried as I drowned alongside her, I frowned

That is where she kissed me and that is where I died

In the castle in the woods, or the tree house, or the card board box



you and me go way back.
it’s hard to tell exactly how long
but our scientists are getting
pretty close
and we’re mostly certain
it all happened rather fast.
since then a lot has changed.
we’ve been through so much together.

i remember it all like dream

you’ve seen me burst apart
screaming fire into the void
around me
only to implode with frustration
and regret

when earth came along
you were every pail of water,
grip of dry brush and berry

when the wars began
you were my trench, my low tide beneath waves of violence

you were my innkeeper,
my rebellion,
my abolitionist,
my labor union,
my soul’s mechanic,
because even it gets neglected and/or overworked
from time to time

you were the smile on my face
when i first looked into my mother’s eyes
and the look on her own
after hearing about
my first fistfight

you’ve always loved me,
and i’ve been trying to reciprocate
ever since.

i’m still trying


i want to make mistakes with you
i want to squeeze this cop’s white
chesnut head open with my
too crazy to care
I don’t even know if i’m a Writer any
feel like taking a bubble bath for
about a week and a half
someone get me a whiskey and snow
weed strain: OG Doggie Paddle
vintage drake bell
Hell friggin ya

the achy feeling of longing versus the
worry and devastation of loss
using black ice to exfoliate your face
while being dragged by a car from a
rope tied to your ankles
death by cardiac arrest due to glance
at tv commercial selling ginger ale
with sex appeal
no one just ‘worked on the railroad’ to
pass the time away. That shit was hard
work and a lot of people died. Get real
where is the job where u have to give
ppl excellent advice on trivial things?
do they have dental? pretty sure I
have gingivitis

Through Being Sad
had a dream a guy sold a slice of
cheese pizza for a million dollars
petting cats is still free
Dissertation on The Hokey Pokey: Is it
REALLY ‘what it’s all about’?
bananas are strong, they have really
thick skin. I just dropped mine on
the ground and felt good that I
could still eat it. I feel safe

Be Nice or Die Tryin’

Cody Can(not)tu also has a band called Sexual Jeremy. You can find their first album here on bandcamp:

Late Father’s Day Poem

lucifer is the light of the world
he is always depicted as a man
every living thing exists
on an impulse
and it seems as though
love can be just as good
as it is evil
jesus asked us to love everybody
which seems like a lot to ask
for those who never got to have
a last supper
needing the heat of hell
to replace the warmth
absent of their mothers
(and fathers)

it’s not your fault
i swear to god
it’s not your fault

Cody Can(not)tu also has a band called Sexual Jeremy. You can find their first album here on bandcamp:

Gate E34

The time is 9:47am. Gate E34. There is a young man wearing red headphones and an elderly lady hugging her legs to her chest. My head is throbbing and my eyelids are getting increasingly heavy. I am wearing my collared khaki blouse with my mother’s black cardigan. A man in a white shirt and black tie looks out the window as if looking into another world. A door shuts, a phone rings. The airport is filled with endless chatter. We’re all here for the same thing. To go somewhere else. Somewhere far away. We wear our own shoes, but put on a stranger’s face. No one can see you here. We already passed security. They took our faces away to protect the american way of life. To ensure that we are each our own threats to tall buildings and low skies. Sometimes they even fear themselves. Wondering how anyone could trust them with their identities. Identities and faces floating in the clouds. An invisible man takes us away from whatever it is we’re running from. I woke up far too early to maintain an open mind. But I keep it open anyhow. To put myself on a jet plane. To fly away with everyone else. All the other faces. Some closed, some empty, broken, cold. There’s a tunnel for people like us. It wont take us into our mechanical bird, but an eternal sky.


I want to carve a hole and crawl inside my body
And rip myself apart from the inside out.
A silent desperation begging to be set free
A cry that falls on no one’s ears.
I want to pull my jaw across my scalp
And cry within the comforts of my own head.
It waits, just beneath the breaking surface
It strikes infinite, just above the dying flesh.
I want to take some wax and peel my skin apart
And let loose the spiders hiding in the dermis.
There is no comfort, for no one knows my truth
There are no secrets, for everyone understands.
I want to pull my teeth out one by one,
And fill their holes with boiling metals.
I want to take a set of pliers
And pull my nails out root by root.
I want a lot of things but nothing more than you
Because throughout all this, I know you feel it too.

Sitting on a Night Bus From Summit to Lyons

Night unfurls its silent shroud
Nearer now to journey’s terminus
To sit, reflect and contemplate our quiet lives
Tossed aimlessly, tumbling through
A moment
Minute, infinitesimal
Pressed against an ever-widening canvas
Boisterous and bold
Bellowing outwards to the void
Light struggles listlessly to be seen
Islands in a sea of black
Barren, crying out for contact
But gentle soft and sweet
Quiet and lonely yet beautiful
Hidden away
They belong to you and you alone
Unseen and unheard by those too busy or too fast to wait
Night lives with you together
Alone but always sympathetic
Your dreams
Your life
Your quiet desperations
Drift further through the night
Carried on silent winds

A Piece in June

“its about chances. changes. its about screwing up and doing the same thing a thousand times until it kills us. its about finding something that is so undoubtedly a terrible idea, and doing it just to figure out if it was a terrible idea. its miserable and twisted but its ours. and its all we have to share.”

i want there to be flowers

i want there to be flowers in my hair and grass between my toes. i want trees to encompass everything i am, and embrace me. i want the first frost of winter to come towards me as a whisper, as a song. i want it to touch me. i want the words in books to leap off their pages. i want the ideas in my head to come out of hiding. i want to be seen. i want peach colored roses on my doorstep. i want my name written in a text book. i want the sunset and the sunrise to meet eachother and find the end of the earth with their lips. i want little eyes to look up to me and wonder. wonder about all the wonders of the world. i want to be a mother, to braid her hair and sing her to sleep. i want to put her artwork up on the fridge like her own personal gallery. she’ll be famous, i’ll say. i’ll teach her to dream. to always hope for the flowers. to always swim to the shoreline. to always gasp for breath at the sight of everywhere. i want there to be roses. roses in the place of tears when i die. i want her to smile. i want the world to look at her and wonder, wonder what her mother was like. i want a place among the trees. to be a voice among the leaves. i want to be heard. to be felt between your toes, to grow against your legs, to wrap you in my song. i want to live among the wildflowers. i want you to pick me up and take me home. i want to be the wind in your hair. the breath in your lungs. the love on your lips when you kiss your baby girl goodnight. i want there to be flowers.