The Valley of Light
Sunshine never looked so good
on its best day in its "going out" clothes
where the hills fall into the highway.
Snow melts because it has to
along the dashes and double yellows and the crush of
tires and star light slows everything down.
The clouds cast it back
pocket change to cups,
all of it a little homeless.
Staring at the tach and the glitter,
headlights out for a while,
the trees are starting to sing, scarved in white tonight.
Dread Not (the code)
"I look after you,
you bet your ass
you better be
looking after me."
The phone rings and I am asleep
talking to you. The phone rings again
and I am out of bed and on my saddle
looking for "the spot I know" between the tracks and trees,
still sleeping while I kick the pedals
to get where the getting is good and by the time
my consciousness decides to rise everything's gone and
everyone's there
in good spirit, but I brought my own and
home is where the hearth is,
bonfired and inspired by a thing as simple as
a time of year.
Spitting distance to the river,
laid back on
railroad rocks and backpacks for pillows
eyes night
it is good to be near you. Everyone else
the bonus.
A beat machine on a handheld
kicks up the way I know you and you know me
by smell. Teeth spread in the star eyed sky
like blue glow sticks and we,
for a few more minutes, cash in karma points
before the new year sets,
talking about the fishing licenses
we will never get and who won what
long bet set last January and
the river is crystal clear before us.
Begging a stone to be skipped.
"I look after you,
you look after me."
We skate a little bit.
Tonight is special,
the definition of
an exception.
The Toast Never Said
All I want in this new year
is peace on Earth
even if I have to kill
every last motherfucker
on this God damned planet
to get it.
Super Easy (stick the landing)
Catching snowflakes with a tongue
is an art.
It is cold outside. It is cold inside.
What else is new.
The sledding has been
a joy.
Laughing like this years before.
Disposable cameras
were the rage. Snowballs still
make the same sound.
Everything changed and nothing.
Watching it all fall down.
Do not be so
whatever it is called.
Hearts are
doing what they do.
Along the expanse of drift covered parking lot,
street lights and all,
there is space to dream between flakes of snowfall.
original works of parts
Holiday 8
Tree trimmed, low brimmed
but alright because
New Years is right around the corner like
Egged nog, face fogged
but alright because
New Years is round the corner like
Dream state, cream made
but alright because
New Years is right around the corner like
Nine shots, girl's hot
but alright because
New Years is round the corner like
but alright because
New Years is right around the corner like
Egged nog, face fogged
but alright because
New Years is round the corner like
Dream state, cream made
but alright because
New Years is right around the corner like
Nine shots, girl's hot
but alright because
New Years is round the corner like
Whatever whatever
fair friends in more fair weather cuz
New Years is coming like
He said, she said, witnesses
fitness and weaknesses
New Years around the corner like
Bar fights, low lights
all of it heeled
with a New Year coming on like
Bad dreams and poor seams
and magical mis-
the New Years is right around the corner.
No tree and no spree,
for week years we could see
we pounded and shook hands
we held up, and could leak,
we knew things and true speak?
we had dreams
and saw peaks
but the New Year is
right around the corner.
Holiday 7 (in the spirit)
bad music
bad music
good music
bad music
who you're with
who you're not
who you're not with
who you're with that wish you
were not with and who you're not.
The train likes to run and she does and she do.
Presents. Presents. Presents and tree scent and
lights and lights and sometimes sunglasses
at night. No one knows. Them and know
one knows a good time can can
given the chance to develop.
One day,
one god damn day,
be whatever the fuck you want
without worrying what tomorrow
should not bring
if everyone
had a sense
of humor
and a jizz cup of grace.
bad music
good music
bad music
who you're with
who you're not
who you're not with
who you're with that wish you
were not with and who you're not.
The train likes to run and she does and she do.
Presents. Presents. Presents and tree scent and
lights and lights and sometimes sunglasses
at night. No one knows. Them and know
one knows a good time can can
given the chance to develop.
One day,
one god damn day,
be whatever the fuck you want
without worrying what tomorrow
should not bring
if everyone
had a sense
of humor
and a jizz cup of grace.
Holiday 6
Remembering without volunteering where the
bright red
in your blood continues to come from.
Trailing, trailing, songs and incorrect manifests.
Foreign matter
all of it. Seem in ears and eyes and all of it
bags of body parts in rivers and denial-ed okay
sorts of comforts
and really, you need to find a new hobby.
bright red
in your blood continues to come from.
Trailing, trailing, songs and incorrect manifests.
Foreign matter
all of it. Seem in ears and eyes and all of it
bags of body parts in rivers and denial-ed okay
sorts of comforts
and really, you need to find a new hobby.
Holiday 5 (gunwale)
The classical music,
remember that?
Remember the Chrimea,
the landing at Granada.
Remember vietnam and
the snowfalls in Korea.
Remember the leather and how they
popped kids heads in Cambodia. Or
did they. Solitary tears are tear singular.
Run over the scale, the time, the cost,
the weights and measures
and course or do not. All to be done
is to live and by living have lived.
All they have to do is die and by dying
have lost and lost large. It's funny sometimes
the idea of choice. The fact that
sometimes someone will try
to deny you that much voice.
The fact that
there is a way to make that okay.
remember that?
Remember the Chrimea,
the landing at Granada.
Remember vietnam and
the snowfalls in Korea.
Remember the leather and how they
popped kids heads in Cambodia. Or
did they. Solitary tears are tear singular.
Run over the scale, the time, the cost,
the weights and measures
and course or do not. All to be done
is to live and by living have lived.
All they have to do is die and by dying
have lost and lost large. It's funny sometimes
the idea of choice. The fact that
sometimes someone will try
to deny you that much voice.
The fact that
there is a way to make that okay.
Holiday 4
I had a New Year toast in mind
along the lines of mass and multiple murder,
but who has the time to make good
on something like that.
Ball dropping christmas mini lit
nonsense in the space of
twenty four words
or less.
For once, I followed through
on all of my new years resolutions.
Get at me. It will not be you
it will be your kids.
Memory runs long and scars longer.
Do you remember the lyrics
to our song right now or do you wonder?
Odd questions, but it's a party.
along the lines of mass and multiple murder,
but who has the time to make good
on something like that.
Ball dropping christmas mini lit
nonsense in the space of
twenty four words
or less.
For once, I followed through
on all of my new years resolutions.
Get at me. It will not be you
it will be your kids.
Memory runs long and scars longer.
Do you remember the lyrics
to our song right now or do you wonder?
Odd questions, but it's a party.
Holiday 3
She shit her pants. I think she must have been
in the holiday spirit is what I thought, having
the story related to me on down time.
I've been thinking about the last time, at work,
that I spent a serious holiday in my home and what keeps
coming are stories of empty work days and people.
Thinking back to the days when holidays were
holidays I come forth with silly tales of family
that tend to end with hard earned tears.
If I were to choose
between the two
I would think nothing of it.
Because I have to,
I will take
neither and wake up in a new year. Scattered.
in the holiday spirit is what I thought, having
the story related to me on down time.
I've been thinking about the last time, at work,
that I spent a serious holiday in my home and what keeps
coming are stories of empty work days and people.
Thinking back to the days when holidays were
holidays I come forth with silly tales of family
that tend to end with hard earned tears.
If I were to choose
between the two
I would think nothing of it.
Because I have to,
I will take
neither and wake up in a new year. Scattered.
Holiday 2 (learn to duck)
"You look cold, honey." I'm fine.
"You been getting carts all day?" I'm fine
with waiting because sometimes your dealer is late.
I'm fine with that. Snow melts the instant it touches skin,
the hard part is being okay with getting snowed on.
I am. She doesn't tip and I don't want one
necessarily. The kindness of a heart and
the rest of that junk. Patience. Is that
a BB gun with compressed air, my man?
I may not be the sharpest but blunt objects
get the job done last time I checked.
How old are you? Is this your first
time? Stop being so gorgeous.
I've been working too long
to make a stink out of this.
You realize, have you not,
that I do know where
you live.
"You been getting carts all day?" I'm fine
with waiting because sometimes your dealer is late.
I'm fine with that. Snow melts the instant it touches skin,
the hard part is being okay with getting snowed on.
I am. She doesn't tip and I don't want one
necessarily. The kindness of a heart and
the rest of that junk. Patience. Is that
a BB gun with compressed air, my man?
I may not be the sharpest but blunt objects
get the job done last time I checked.
How old are you? Is this your first
time? Stop being so gorgeous.
I've been working too long
to make a stink out of this.
You realize, have you not,
that I do know where
you live.
The Twelve Days of Christmas
On the first day of Christmas my true love sent to me
a Gulf blue 240z.
On the second day of Christmas my true love sent to me
two orange nugs
and a Gulf blue 240z.
On the third day of Christmas my true love sent to me
three seats with the Pens
two orange nugs
and a Gulf blue 240z.
On the fourth day of Christmas my true love sent to me
four chrome birds
three seats with the Pens
two orange nugs
and a Gulf blue 240z.
On the fifth day of Christmas my true love sent to me
five brass rings
four chrome birds
three seats with the Pens
two orange nugs
and a Gulf blue 240z.
On the sixth day of Christmas my true love sent to me
six punching bag hangers
five brass rings
four chrome birds
three seats with the Pens
two orange nugs
and a Gulf blue 240z.
On the seventh day of Christmas my true love sent to me
seven koi fish swimming
six punching bag hangers
five brass rings
four chrome birds
three seats with the Pens
two orange nugs
and a Gulf blue 240z.
On the eighth day of Christmas my true love sent to me
eight reasons for winking
seven koi fish swimming
six punching bag hangers
five brass rings
four chrome birds
three seats with the Pens
two orange nugs
and a Gulf blue 240z.
On the ninth day of Christmas my true love sent to me
nine songs fit for dancers
eight reasons for winking
seven koi fish swimming
six punching bag hangers
five brass rings
four chrome birds
three seats with the Pens
two orange nugs
and a Gulf blue 240z.
On the tenth day of Christmas my true love sent to me
ten yard line Heinz field seating
nine songs fit for dancers
eight reasons for winking
seven koi fish swimming
six punching bag hangers
five brass rings
four chrome birds
three seats with the Pens
two orange nugs
and a Gulf blue 240z.
On the eleventh day of Christmas my true love sent to me
eleven schools for writing
ten yard line Heinz field seating
nine songs fit for dancers
eight reasons for winking
seven koi fish swimming
six punching bag hangers
five brass rings
four chrome birds
three seats with the Pens
two orange nugs
and a Gulf blue 240z.
On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love sent to me
twelve rails a numbing
eleven schools for writing
ten yard line Heinz field seating
nine songs fit for dancers
eight reasons for winking
seven koi fish swimming
six punching bag hangers
five brass rings
four chrome birds
three seats with the Pens
two orange nugs
and a Gulf blue 240z.
a Gulf blue 240z.
On the second day of Christmas my true love sent to me
two orange nugs
and a Gulf blue 240z.
On the third day of Christmas my true love sent to me
three seats with the Pens
two orange nugs
and a Gulf blue 240z.
On the fourth day of Christmas my true love sent to me
four chrome birds
three seats with the Pens
two orange nugs
and a Gulf blue 240z.
On the fifth day of Christmas my true love sent to me
five brass rings
four chrome birds
three seats with the Pens
two orange nugs
and a Gulf blue 240z.
On the sixth day of Christmas my true love sent to me
six punching bag hangers
five brass rings
four chrome birds
three seats with the Pens
two orange nugs
and a Gulf blue 240z.
On the seventh day of Christmas my true love sent to me
seven koi fish swimming
six punching bag hangers
five brass rings
four chrome birds
three seats with the Pens
two orange nugs
and a Gulf blue 240z.
On the eighth day of Christmas my true love sent to me
eight reasons for winking
seven koi fish swimming
six punching bag hangers
five brass rings
four chrome birds
three seats with the Pens
two orange nugs
and a Gulf blue 240z.
On the ninth day of Christmas my true love sent to me
nine songs fit for dancers
eight reasons for winking
seven koi fish swimming
six punching bag hangers
five brass rings
four chrome birds
three seats with the Pens
two orange nugs
and a Gulf blue 240z.
On the tenth day of Christmas my true love sent to me
ten yard line Heinz field seating
nine songs fit for dancers
eight reasons for winking
seven koi fish swimming
six punching bag hangers
five brass rings
four chrome birds
three seats with the Pens
two orange nugs
and a Gulf blue 240z.
On the eleventh day of Christmas my true love sent to me
eleven schools for writing
ten yard line Heinz field seating
nine songs fit for dancers
eight reasons for winking
seven koi fish swimming
six punching bag hangers
five brass rings
four chrome birds
three seats with the Pens
two orange nugs
and a Gulf blue 240z.
On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love sent to me
twelve rails a numbing
eleven schools for writing
ten yard line Heinz field seating
nine songs fit for dancers
eight reasons for winking
seven koi fish swimming
six punching bag hangers
five brass rings
four chrome birds
three seats with the Pens
two orange nugs
and a Gulf blue 240z.
Love Comes Cheap
I don't know
who you are.
The sex has
been fantasy
blued. Have drug,
will travel;
is the mantra
of modesty:
the world is
so big and I am
so small.
Remains in
quotations.
Do you ever
cry to the stars
while slicing
a tomato
dinner timed?
The moon keeps
watch. And I
keep tidal time,
shells at my toes.
Drifting and
hoping a riptide
takes me far, far away, fromallofthis.
who you are.
The sex has
been fantasy
blued. Have drug,
will travel;
is the mantra
of modesty:
the world is
so big and I am
so small.
Remains in
quotations.
Do you ever
cry to the stars
while slicing
a tomato
dinner timed?
The moon keeps
watch. And I
keep tidal time,
shells at my toes.
Drifting and
hoping a riptide
takes me far, far away, fromallofthis.
Smoker 31
The ease. Speaking to you through tendrils of
smoke is a thing without appropriate value.
That's all lawyer speak.
I made a mistake
to reach this point. Several times over.
Unavoidable in it's nowness
in ways avoidable before. Time is
short as hell. Eye to eye.
Short as it has ever been
I will feel it tomorrow,
for now,
can we go through the motions?
smoke is a thing without appropriate value.
That's all lawyer speak.
I made a mistake
to reach this point. Several times over.
Unavoidable in it's nowness
in ways avoidable before. Time is
short as hell. Eye to eye.
Short as it has ever been
I will feel it tomorrow,
for now,
can we go through the motions?
Gummy Bear (the heater)
Chewy is one thing. Soft is another and the difference
is alleyway hilarious. "You must really think that I am
dumb." Conflicts of interest and anyone can pull
a trigger. The gummy bear here is not the one
that stepped out of doors, making homes of bars
and startled that someone noticed and did not
take voicemail for something more than the stunt.
Okay. Words are large and easy and a fist is
small and hard, so words can be on
a fine exchange rate where they may blister, otherwise,
in the heat of brain matter vee brain matter, like.
Okay, gummy bear. Bear teeth drawn and all
gummy like socks could be forgotten if someone
did not tell you to put them on, things roll.
Things roll and long walks are taken and half
the walk is picking out a spot to bury a body
on both sides of the conversation but planning is a thing
learned and someone has not been to school
yet and benefit of the doubt is running too long,
decision time coming up sharp and the difficulty
is figuring out exactly how to end the song.
There's no heater, but no time for broken bleeders.
Alibi's are harder to come and frankly it's running thin
on fun and my friends are steady waiting and I'm done
with straight placating so I'll end this conversation,
we will walk back conversating and I will call you a cunt and
you will buy me a drink and the gummy bear will walk on
because I can't yet afford to bring the heat.
Smoker 30
after J. Cash - "Guess Things Happen That Way"
I've been thinking
one headlight out
is no way to go.
I've been thinking
it'd be nice
to split a tab,
but there's a little too much snow.
I've been thinking
there ain't much space in this basement,
but we'll grow.
Things get silly. Things
get old and I can't be
that girl to lean on.
I don't like it. Black eye socket.
I don't like it, but I guess things
happen that way.
I've been thinking
one headlight out
is no way to go.
I've been thinking
it'd be nice
to split a tab,
but there's a little too much snow.
I've been thinking
there ain't much space in this basement,
but we'll grow.
Things get silly. Things
get old and I can't be
that girl to lean on.
I don't like it. Black eye socket.
I don't like it, but I guess things
happen that way.
Question Marks 3
Dear Dr. B.,
Sometimes I am spectacularly depressed. Sometimes
I am spectacularly enthused. Most times
I am spectacularly surprised,
genuinely so,
that I am still alive, and in that third moment
I am reminded that I
wouldn't be where I am without you. Still managing,
in the purest sense of number crunch and asset allocation.
I am an island now. By
choice I like to think. The helping hands. Go figure. I
thought of a joke though,
remember you said I could
talk to you again if I thought of one:
Two vaginas walk into a bar.
The first girl says "I'll take a vodka and rossi."
The second girl says "I'll have what she's having, bourbon over."
The bartender says "on the same tab?"
He hands the bartender two cards and says "no."
I've been managing. Life has been good
from the standpoint of
statistics. It's been rough as all get out
from the standpoint of
everything else. Things not metric, less magic.
Do you want a receipt, but I'm working. Trying real
hard to take care of myself and not decouple from society
because I
can blink my eye and be so far away from where I need to be.
The voices have been loud, but I'm putting in a lot.
The outcomes are what and it's been paying
off, bit by bit, though I still slip and
get blindsided from time to time (it's exhausting being on guard so
much).
Anyway, I think I love you, but mostly I want to tell you that I'm
still not dead yet.
Thanks so much,
Mr. D.
The Sea on His Shoulder
"You haven't been smoking crack, have you?"
"That's a stupid question." If body bags came in green
the seat covers would be stitched from them.
Fingering the seams is a fine way to pass time
when conversation lulls.
To seem off is one thing. To be is another.
"Sometimes, I don't know," his left eye says. His right
asks to be invited, when the trees are singing,
the sky is stiff, and sound rings like smoke
against closed windows and doors and
pools, boredom.
The sun is blinking slower. Lazy clocked,
minutes yawning in between the upstretched arms
of cloud banks beyond the bar window seats.
Her hair is windblown, asking about
Jeanette and closed systems.
The night crowds
are hard, if she could be easy. Her hair stinks
from across the table. Sweat through pillows and
vending machine cakes. Her finger spins
the car key ring. "It's Friday, dummy."
He remembers the forecast
for snow
that won't stick. Flag a waiter, or walk up.
"Whatever works." He touches a shot glass to her bottle
empty. Her car isn't going to drive itself.
Eye contact is one hell of a drug,
given appropriate time. The walk outside
is amazing to taste. The air is fireplace and sunglass optional.
He offers a cigarette, but never could get her on the habit.
"You still gay?"
"Something like that." Look back to where.
The bar is so much smaller on its face. "You?"
The hood of a car is a poor place to sit,
especially when it is misted in sun shower rain drops.
"Something like that.
Sometimes I don't know." The lucky flip policy is loose.
She still does not smoke, though her skin blazes
in the slanted light against the too busy sky.
The engine turns over easily.
"Let's go get you right?" Her smile is a billion watts. Her nod
so much more.
"That's a stupid question." If body bags came in green
the seat covers would be stitched from them.
Fingering the seams is a fine way to pass time
when conversation lulls.
To seem off is one thing. To be is another.
"Sometimes, I don't know," his left eye says. His right
asks to be invited, when the trees are singing,
the sky is stiff, and sound rings like smoke
against closed windows and doors and
pools, boredom.
The sun is blinking slower. Lazy clocked,
minutes yawning in between the upstretched arms
of cloud banks beyond the bar window seats.
Her hair is windblown, asking about
Jeanette and closed systems.
The night crowds
are hard, if she could be easy. Her hair stinks
from across the table. Sweat through pillows and
vending machine cakes. Her finger spins
the car key ring. "It's Friday, dummy."
He remembers the forecast
for snow
that won't stick. Flag a waiter, or walk up.
"Whatever works." He touches a shot glass to her bottle
empty. Her car isn't going to drive itself.
Eye contact is one hell of a drug,
given appropriate time. The walk outside
is amazing to taste. The air is fireplace and sunglass optional.
He offers a cigarette, but never could get her on the habit.
"You still gay?"
"Something like that." Look back to where.
The bar is so much smaller on its face. "You?"
The hood of a car is a poor place to sit,
especially when it is misted in sun shower rain drops.
"Something like that.
Sometimes I don't know." The lucky flip policy is loose.
She still does not smoke, though her skin blazes
in the slanted light against the too busy sky.
The engine turns over easily.
"Let's go get you right?" Her smile is a billion watts. Her nod
so much more.
Simply Put
I get sad when you leave.
The why part is
silly, and I know it.
I get sad when you leave.
I made you a necklace
out of boiled chicken bones.
Wear it
or don't. I'll understand.
Wear it
for now and then,
where I can't see you.
Do what we will.
The why part is
silly, and I know it.
I get sad when you leave.
I made you a necklace
out of boiled chicken bones.
Wear it
or don't. I'll understand.
Wear it
for now and then,
where I can't see you.
Do what we will.
Tracers
I sent a letter written by hand. So much pen ink. So much pen ink. I looked up. The address. Correct denominations are silly because you would think. By now everything has one standard and simplification is a good. Work around to working up the words. In my bed. The phone continues to go off underneath the pillow and I. Am starting to see visions of "who" again, but nothing. Clearly we have been sorry for some time and unable to express. Trains departing to all points
West means very little when you cannot make. North or South of it all. Should probably be in quotations. If you heard it inside myself. Is where things start. To take on shape is a commitment and I am committed, but I am knotted. If that makes sense you are imaginary and I thank. You might be a little cookied, if it's possible to think at all. Times are rough and I keep having this vision where you are dead and I am wearing thin. Excuses for lingerie, but they keep on
me like body paint. The hog keeps vomiting fire. Squeezed in a hand twice its size. Hilarious to June because she can laugh. From the nose bleed seats, the ticket makes more sense while other people cheer something radical underneath the seats like a mile long fungus thinking it might stymie scientists by flying beneath our feet is an engine of proportions difficult to grasp. If not for pen and paper. Can run short when
they all speak to you at once
is when you know you may be on drugs. Perhaps onto something is what your psychiatrist continues to say. The monotony broken if a spate of humor was forthcoming to grant an excuse to be a complete. Personhood is granted by waiting in line. For brains and a heart, I am not sure I would take her up on a quest like that. You are bound to run into ghosts. Who agree with you a lot less. Smelling twice as bad as I would rather be dead than sing songs to Gods
made by men. Abstractions can be an excuse in this day and when did I age out of toys. I've got my eye on some dog collars that would look. The other way in the dimmer switched hours of whatever. He waits beside a street lamp. With disgusting patience. Going out there or not is a luxuriant choice. Among however many more will be. Had the doctor been a typical. Sex change? That I eat too much. Will you help me? I've had a terrible go of lunch of late. I promise I will share.
West means very little when you cannot make. North or South of it all. Should probably be in quotations. If you heard it inside myself. Is where things start. To take on shape is a commitment and I am committed, but I am knotted. If that makes sense you are imaginary and I thank. You might be a little cookied, if it's possible to think at all. Times are rough and I keep having this vision where you are dead and I am wearing thin. Excuses for lingerie, but they keep on
me like body paint. The hog keeps vomiting fire. Squeezed in a hand twice its size. Hilarious to June because she can laugh. From the nose bleed seats, the ticket makes more sense while other people cheer something radical underneath the seats like a mile long fungus thinking it might stymie scientists by flying beneath our feet is an engine of proportions difficult to grasp. If not for pen and paper. Can run short when
they all speak to you at once
is when you know you may be on drugs. Perhaps onto something is what your psychiatrist continues to say. The monotony broken if a spate of humor was forthcoming to grant an excuse to be a complete. Personhood is granted by waiting in line. For brains and a heart, I am not sure I would take her up on a quest like that. You are bound to run into ghosts. Who agree with you a lot less. Smelling twice as bad as I would rather be dead than sing songs to Gods
made by men. Abstractions can be an excuse in this day and when did I age out of toys. I've got my eye on some dog collars that would look. The other way in the dimmer switched hours of whatever. He waits beside a street lamp. With disgusting patience. Going out there or not is a luxuriant choice. Among however many more will be. Had the doctor been a typical. Sex change? That I eat too much. Will you help me? I've had a terrible go of lunch of late. I promise I will share.
Hatred (titular)
...so hating mankind,
what you're saying,
is a lot like hating chocolate
with a severe sort of passion.
Not everyday, run of the mill, chocolate, either.
What you're saying is that the candy
is, of itself, good. In the context of the
concept of taste, however, it is a horrible
horrible thing?
No. Hating mankind is a thing
principled. It has very conscious limits.
Varying?
You're a towel!
what you're saying,
is a lot like hating chocolate
with a severe sort of passion.
Not everyday, run of the mill, chocolate, either.
What you're saying is that the candy
is, of itself, good. In the context of the
concept of taste, however, it is a horrible
horrible thing?
No. Hating mankind is a thing
principled. It has very conscious limits.
Varying?
You're a towel!
Giant Robot
Subroutines upon subroutines.
All of the witicisms relating
to power are geared toward preventative logic.
What if, some day, you wake up
and you are ten miles high?
What if, some day, you wake up
and your heartbeat is a ten million ton reactor?
Some day your high line
will not be so high and you will forget
what you are.
You will react,
heart melting down while
they all die.
The thing
in and of
will make
no sense
to you.
The program will run,
debug successfully and what have you,
meanwhile.
All of the witicisms relating
to power are geared toward preventative logic.
What if, some day, you wake up
and you are ten miles high?
What if, some day, you wake up
and your heartbeat is a ten million ton reactor?
Some day your high line
will not be so high and you will forget
what you are.
You will react,
heart melting down while
they all die.
The thing
in and of
will make
no sense
to you.
The program will run,
debug successfully and what have you,
meanwhile.
Turn
Outside the window
the leaves are orange and red and brown.
I can't remember when last they were green.
I can't remember wanting to bring it up,
overnighting your home and couch parking
on something not equipped to fit
five foot anything of person mass, but
the leaves are going and in stages of gone.
I would love to say something to you
about how it is outside that window
without coming
across wrong.
I do not and breakfast
comes instead and forgetfulness comes
on like loose eggs across ceramic and we all scream
a little bit inside.
Turned out
of doors
we go
about the silly bits and it is funny
the way Indian summer can stretch.
The way leaves on the ground still swish
the same way they were first heard
years ago.
the leaves are orange and red and brown.
I can't remember when last they were green.
I can't remember wanting to bring it up,
overnighting your home and couch parking
on something not equipped to fit
five foot anything of person mass, but
the leaves are going and in stages of gone.
I would love to say something to you
about how it is outside that window
without coming
across wrong.
I do not and breakfast
comes instead and forgetfulness comes
on like loose eggs across ceramic and we all scream
a little bit inside.
Turned out
of doors
we go
about the silly bits and it is funny
the way Indian summer can stretch.
The way leaves on the ground still swish
the same way they were first heard
years ago.
Friendship Noddy
I have been looking
at your feet when you come in and I
insist that you take off your shoes and socks.
They change with the tempo of your
everyday things and moods, but you
don't notice.
We slugged our way
through the eighties and the nineties
have been more kind to our ears, in terms of music.
Where you left your backpack is a matter of science,
we don't do math here, as you know.
Talking about everyone
else has been an exercise in a lot of things.
In a lot of ways. Joy in is
a slant rhyme away from join if you really press.
Your cigarette can go out in my hand or
an ash tray. Whatever you feel
like sleeping hard is okay. Because it is.
I hold nothing against anyone,
everything against myself,
no one against their odds.
Something like that.
Could you be happy to be in this scratch of time with
me, nothing to lose, and for once nothing lost?
It is a question I do not put to
many any ones. When I can help it.
i am glad I came over, is all.
Someone has to sing to the moon and someone will
have to sing into their pillow and I
am all kinds of star skyed. Love you.
at your feet when you come in and I
insist that you take off your shoes and socks.
They change with the tempo of your
everyday things and moods, but you
don't notice.
We slugged our way
through the eighties and the nineties
have been more kind to our ears, in terms of music.
Where you left your backpack is a matter of science,
we don't do math here, as you know.
Talking about everyone
else has been an exercise in a lot of things.
In a lot of ways. Joy in is
a slant rhyme away from join if you really press.
Your cigarette can go out in my hand or
an ash tray. Whatever you feel
like sleeping hard is okay. Because it is.
I hold nothing against anyone,
everything against myself,
no one against their odds.
Something like that.
Could you be happy to be in this scratch of time with
me, nothing to lose, and for once nothing lost?
It is a question I do not put to
many any ones. When I can help it.
i am glad I came over, is all.
Someone has to sing to the moon and someone will
have to sing into their pillow and I
am all kinds of star skyed. Love you.
Work Song (riding the bus home)
My balls smell really bad,
'cause I've been sweating
and working time away.
Now when my eyebrows lift
after giving fingers a sniff
and the frown
painted stays
It's only because
the itch wouldn't give,
life being what it is,
I ain't fucking scratched 'em all day.
'cause I've been sweating
and working time away.
Now when my eyebrows lift
after giving fingers a sniff
and the frown
painted stays
It's only because
the itch wouldn't give,
life being what it is,
I ain't fucking scratched 'em all day.
Shill
There's a sadness that comes
when you realize
moving on is not so much a thing
as an occupation. A rare pain.
A leaving of the scene
of something like a crime. The lights
go down and you put on your hat
and the eyes move to a door.
Little by want, you ask
for those two seconds more.
They aren't coming. Never will.
Fumble for a lighter.
It's not there.
Second time tonight.
Ask for keys.
They tell you "no," with difficult emphasis.
Remeber you don't where you parked.
Can't recall the stories
if there were a
gun to your chest.
Too early for flowers. Too late for
whatevers. Sit down kind of sadness.
Moving on. Not a thing. Nor occupation.
A rare pain when you realize. Comes.
when you realize
moving on is not so much a thing
as an occupation. A rare pain.
A leaving of the scene
of something like a crime. The lights
go down and you put on your hat
and the eyes move to a door.
Little by want, you ask
for those two seconds more.
They aren't coming. Never will.
Fumble for a lighter.
It's not there.
Second time tonight.
Ask for keys.
They tell you "no," with difficult emphasis.
Remeber you don't where you parked.
Can't recall the stories
if there were a
gun to your chest.
Too early for flowers. Too late for
whatevers. Sit down kind of sadness.
Moving on. Not a thing. Nor occupation.
A rare pain when you realize. Comes.
New York High, New York Low
The brand newness of New York City
is a flitting thing,
not without value,
on it's own,
because,
and it should be
granted this,
every day in that city
will bring you new challenges
and old ones in new costumes,
but ultimately,
it grows tiresome,
and at that point
you will ask yourself
how many times can I be denied
and still come back for more when there are so many
other skylines to see.
is a flitting thing,
not without value,
on it's own,
because,
and it should be
granted this,
every day in that city
will bring you new challenges
and old ones in new costumes,
but ultimately,
it grows tiresome,
and at that point
you will ask yourself
how many times can I be denied
and still come back for more when there are so many
other skylines to see.
Inny Outty
We talked too long about
belly buttons, I forgive myself
for being to into myself but,
I wish I was not
the only one who
sniffed my
finger.
belly buttons, I forgive myself
for being to into myself but,
I wish I was not
the only one who
sniffed my
finger.
The Name That Starts with E and Ends With H
Back when things were less exotic.
Had names that started and ended with
something more than single letters.
A chemist couldn't cook up
something more than
question marks when
long conversations at brunch
begged more than a casual
meet and greet across foam
cups. Not to be sour
but, I think I liked you more
when there was still
a score
to settle.
Had names that started and ended with
something more than single letters.
A chemist couldn't cook up
something more than
question marks when
long conversations at brunch
begged more than a casual
meet and greet across foam
cups. Not to be sour
but, I think I liked you more
when there was still
a score
to settle.
More Go
Catch yourself hands up in neutral on a bad downhill
catching flies with your teeth and lashes cutting cars and
really road markings are a suggestion and if you get
from stop one to stop two on the busway you can
pull it off without a ticket and a citation for heroism,
but catch yourself hands up in neutral and look, ma,
all good, bombing the hell out of this town and
the world feels small and gigantic skyed at the same time:
making sense starts to feel frivolous and maybe
the devil may care this time around.
catching flies with your teeth and lashes cutting cars and
really road markings are a suggestion and if you get
from stop one to stop two on the busway you can
pull it off without a ticket and a citation for heroism,
but catch yourself hands up in neutral and look, ma,
all good, bombing the hell out of this town and
the world feels small and gigantic skyed at the same time:
making sense starts to feel frivolous and maybe
the devil may care this time around.
Daddy Said Don't Play in the Dirt
I'm faster.
I'm stronger.
I'm you part two,
dontcha know?
I'm laughing, belly first.
Empty socket
and a whole lot of voltage,
dontcha know?
Daddy said
don't play in the dirt,
but I got my fingernails all guffed up.
Wherever you are,
there's no one I can't reach.
Burn it all to the ground
if you plan on planting something.
I'm faster, I'm smarter,
I'm squared up good.
I'm on it, I'm on her, I'm in him,
feather true, arrowhead blades thin as paper.
I'm you. Don't you get it yet?
How long will it take.
I'm faster, insides stronger,
dontcha know by now that thing
looking you dead in your premature eyes
is just you.
Part two.
I'm stronger.
I'm you part two,
dontcha know?
I'm laughing, belly first.
Empty socket
and a whole lot of voltage,
dontcha know?
Daddy said
don't play in the dirt,
but I got my fingernails all guffed up.
Wherever you are,
there's no one I can't reach.
Burn it all to the ground
if you plan on planting something.
I'm faster, I'm smarter,
I'm squared up good.
I'm on it, I'm on her, I'm in him,
feather true, arrowhead blades thin as paper.
I'm you. Don't you get it yet?
How long will it take.
I'm faster, insides stronger,
dontcha know by now that thing
looking you dead in your premature eyes
is just you.
Part two.
Dumb Ox Kneels for a While
The flowers are terrible this time of year.
Always have been, always will be.
The bumbles are short on time.
I don't mind. The grass is still long
the sun is so shy
and I have no thing to offer sighs.
Always have been, always will be.
The bumbles are short on time.
I don't mind. The grass is still long
the sun is so shy
and I have no thing to offer sighs.
Gamut Frieze
Music therapy
when the basketballs make no sound and
the chatrooms in Russia die down and
everything quiets to deafening and
you know you should pick up
that book you said you'd read.
You've been snowing again,
sketching again. Boobies and big
belly rings and cute feet
without the hammer toes
you saw on the model.
You have been sniffling again
at the little tears that do not make it
down your cheek. Speaking in mumbles
to the voices where your ear hit the bricks
last night
yet you made it to class regardless. And borrowed charcoal.
Excuses are for the dull.
You have reasons. You can smell
the model from here and it is gross
in the same way your dad's laundry
smelled like the donut shop,
missed birthdays and chores.
Headphones tonight,
every night these days,
because you know what you did a decade removed.
They do too. And when the man with the blue hankie comes
you will both know who comes for whom.
Listen to what stills and what can still move you.
when the basketballs make no sound and
the chatrooms in Russia die down and
everything quiets to deafening and
you know you should pick up
that book you said you'd read.
You've been snowing again,
sketching again. Boobies and big
belly rings and cute feet
without the hammer toes
you saw on the model.
You have been sniffling again
at the little tears that do not make it
down your cheek. Speaking in mumbles
to the voices where your ear hit the bricks
last night
yet you made it to class regardless. And borrowed charcoal.
Excuses are for the dull.
You have reasons. You can smell
the model from here and it is gross
in the same way your dad's laundry
smelled like the donut shop,
missed birthdays and chores.
Headphones tonight,
every night these days,
because you know what you did a decade removed.
They do too. And when the man with the blue hankie comes
you will both know who comes for whom.
Listen to what stills and what can still move you.
Pen and Paper Will Sex, Have Travel
I won't lie,
I have been cheating.
I have been cheating in dreams with things with bedrooms
for eyes and wings for legs. Things that do not know up
from down and stains for soap. I have been
touching myself in ways that beg
description and beg for
limits.
I have been cheating.
I will not lie.
Shadow slipped and zipper skinned and bloody eyed
watching the windows for squad cars and detectives.
I have screwed
up and made up and been sucked
down in to whatevers. Sad things,
happier by absentee suns and happy things
sadder for no one to see them
done.
I have been unscrewed and
burned and turned and hammered and sober
enough to be sworn in
to some kind of forgotten church
with the gods and the gods and the gods and the
stained glass.
I won't lie,
I've been gone
so far
some day
I will
have children
to tell
the day inside the days
I spent
was
without a lie.
I have been cheating.
I have been cheating in dreams with things with bedrooms
for eyes and wings for legs. Things that do not know up
from down and stains for soap. I have been
touching myself in ways that beg
description and beg for
limits.
I have been cheating.
I will not lie.
Shadow slipped and zipper skinned and bloody eyed
watching the windows for squad cars and detectives.
I have screwed
up and made up and been sucked
down in to whatevers. Sad things,
happier by absentee suns and happy things
sadder for no one to see them
done.
I have been unscrewed and
burned and turned and hammered and sober
enough to be sworn in
to some kind of forgotten church
with the gods and the gods and the gods and the
stained glass.
I won't lie,
I've been gone
so far
some day
I will
have children
to tell
the day inside the days
I spent
was
without a lie.
Nothing Left
The panic has boiled down to
you and yours and you
alone.
What you do with it
is the choice.
What you can do with it, is theirs.
you and yours and you
alone.
What you do with it
is the choice.
What you can do with it, is theirs.
Along the Bow
What are you doing here,
good ship Demitus? We are picking the three foot high letters off
in duck bills and candy light feather flaps and they go
easy into the small laps of brown capped waves.
What are you doing here?
The sand this far inland is fit for
toes and maybe socks for ugly toes,
bird feet, and bread crumbs, but I am sorry
to see your guns pointed at the sky and rust
treating you so poorly. I try to wear mine with a little
snap and collar and a wink, but you
are not even well enough to sink with grace.
If I pitch them, the balls of bread go
high above and the little ducks think
they might take wing, but wait instead.
Wake up S.S. Wake up, or maybe snore a little.
Tell me you are not dead already. Tickle a webbed foot
or two, or do not, Demitus. It is okay to sleep and I know
sometimes I do
get a little bit high on maybe and could have
you any shells in that pocket book for me
I might borrow? I will listen to your bones
and the little ducks bleat
and while we gaze at the sun in another summer afternooned
I will do as the greats have done when war
is out of style,
the little ducks not too bread drunk know:
bathe the sun, asleep.
good ship Demitus? We are picking the three foot high letters off
in duck bills and candy light feather flaps and they go
easy into the small laps of brown capped waves.
What are you doing here?
The sand this far inland is fit for
toes and maybe socks for ugly toes,
bird feet, and bread crumbs, but I am sorry
to see your guns pointed at the sky and rust
treating you so poorly. I try to wear mine with a little
snap and collar and a wink, but you
are not even well enough to sink with grace.
If I pitch them, the balls of bread go
high above and the little ducks think
they might take wing, but wait instead.
Wake up S.S. Wake up, or maybe snore a little.
Tell me you are not dead already. Tickle a webbed foot
or two, or do not, Demitus. It is okay to sleep and I know
sometimes I do
get a little bit high on maybe and could have
you any shells in that pocket book for me
I might borrow? I will listen to your bones
and the little ducks bleat
and while we gaze at the sun in another summer afternooned
I will do as the greats have done when war
is out of style,
the little ducks not too bread drunk know:
bathe the sun, asleep.
Food Crush
I have been slow,
lying my way back to eating
food again. Food again and spending
money on the good stuff.
Food poisoning has been a severe bitch
with sunken eyes and bone for fingertips.
The money has gone,
the weight with it.
The savings, think of the savings!
My heart is broken
in choice. I don't want to throw up anymore.
I want to be just like you. I want burgers
on Sunday and meat loaf on Wednesday.
I want thick as fuck sweet onions,
sour cream for days, scorched beef sides
on Tuesday and pan lickings on Saturday.
Food again, food again! But it's been too long
and I am throwing up again.
What is this shit? What happened
to the cups of hot water
I used to know?
I am so tired. I wish I could sleep on the skin of an apple.
lying my way back to eating
food again. Food again and spending
money on the good stuff.
Food poisoning has been a severe bitch
with sunken eyes and bone for fingertips.
The money has gone,
the weight with it.
The savings, think of the savings!
My heart is broken
in choice. I don't want to throw up anymore.
I want to be just like you. I want burgers
on Sunday and meat loaf on Wednesday.
I want thick as fuck sweet onions,
sour cream for days, scorched beef sides
on Tuesday and pan lickings on Saturday.
Food again, food again! But it's been too long
and I am throwing up again.
What is this shit? What happened
to the cups of hot water
I used to know?
I am so tired. I wish I could sleep on the skin of an apple.
The Man With the Stone Hands
has been music to soft ears,
ears soft enough to pluck
like mushrooms in softer ground.
Eat or not. To trip or to
hit and miss,
these are all decisions
along the road when a body is too hungry
to reason the next five minutes into
a division between rationale and
a stomach that would eat itself if it could.
Can you feel where the hairs stand up
on a neck, otherwise shaved, if it knew
it had touch coming?
Her mustache pricks
where lips land where
either one could not expect.
If he wore lipstick
before, no one can tell.
Someone remarked snide
at the tea party, all water and no leaf,
and hot nonetheless. Can you feel
the cry where the wet was
supposed to be?
No one knows in late August
where the you turns into me.
She had this dream, this sickening dream
where her teeth crumbled into blood.
Every time we get high she gets
to talking about her niece and
how she died on impact,
flying yards if I could spit three feet.
The hole in her heart and the tail lights,
the pink ball still bouncing against the curb.
The sex has been a stone cutters dream,
the unveiling of the work,
the sculpture, cloth whisked,
shutters flashing,
tears drying, alarms screaming
"he'll be home soon."
What time is it?
Dreadgnaught
Skip tracked old school like
forgetting fire hydrants are still on like
ice cream cones don't melt like
eating everything edible is like
purchase is Summer as though there's nothing like
wearing new sneakers is nothing like
you never knew me like blue can shine like
everything could be termed in plastic like
there is no cut for the verse lik
there is no clasp for these clowns like
everybody get some bodies like
oh no, oh no, oh no like
maybe sometimes we should cover faces like
maybe dirt can do what it does like
grave robbing, rave stomping like
run like you've never before because like
sixteen bits, and a remote and grape jelly like
super coming on like a bad song and good intentions
like we were and still is like our only thing is like
play the H and play with hate
like our only mission is like
being the last or the first or just the noted like
I had this dream against the seams to be
you know me like
we had a plan from the beginning and
I've got you dead to rights.
forgetting fire hydrants are still on like
ice cream cones don't melt like
eating everything edible is like
purchase is Summer as though there's nothing like
wearing new sneakers is nothing like
you never knew me like blue can shine like
everything could be termed in plastic like
there is no cut for the verse lik
there is no clasp for these clowns like
everybody get some bodies like
oh no, oh no, oh no like
maybe sometimes we should cover faces like
maybe dirt can do what it does like
grave robbing, rave stomping like
run like you've never before because like
sixteen bits, and a remote and grape jelly like
super coming on like a bad song and good intentions
like we were and still is like our only thing is like
play the H and play with hate
like our only mission is like
being the last or the first or just the noted like
I had this dream against the seams to be
you know me like
we had a plan from the beginning and
I've got you dead to rights.
Exit 11 (by the underpass beneath the mattress)
Where do you go when you go away from me?
For hours un end?
You mean on end.
I would love to tell you
someday when the flowers are back in bloom.
Have you seen the honeysuckle off Exit 11?
Smelled like breakfast in bed
inside a gondola on a hillside
off of Exit 11.
You talking about 367?
Nope.
Silence is golden.
So was middle school.
You hated middle school.
I know.
For hours un end?
You mean on end.
I would love to tell you
someday when the flowers are back in bloom.
Have you seen the honeysuckle off Exit 11?
Smelled like breakfast in bed
inside a gondola on a hillside
off of Exit 11.
You talking about 367?
Nope.
Silence is golden.
So was middle school.
You hated middle school.
I know.
The Comedian
I do not watch the news anymore.
Coffee still tastes the same,
though I've never seriously enjoyed it.
A lie.
I do. I did.
Life of late has been
a deeply nested dream and I keep waking up
to the last shell
since high school.
I could imagine myself corrected
like the scene in that movie when they are tearing
down the highway into sunrise and
the camera pans upward
to trained Howitzer barrels
ten meters long
begging fingers for triggers.
I cannot lift
these days
without asking myself what I am training for.
All around us, weapons. If you care to love about it.
I keep waking up,
taking little stocks.
Finger to the knuckle. Connection okay.
Palm to the wrist. Connection okay.
Light to eye nerve. Connection okay.
Lid to eye. Connection okay.
Jaw to skull. Connection okay.
Hips to vertebrae. Connection okay.
The checklist goes and finishes and
enters concert.
Another day, the apparent thought
being no one has killed me yet.
And as it turns over,
the engine coughing before humming,
I know I have another 16 hours to do
and another eight to gift
to you.
Coffee still tastes the same,
though I've never seriously enjoyed it.
A lie.
I do. I did.
Life of late has been
a deeply nested dream and I keep waking up
to the last shell
since high school.
I could imagine myself corrected
like the scene in that movie when they are tearing
down the highway into sunrise and
the camera pans upward
to trained Howitzer barrels
ten meters long
begging fingers for triggers.
I cannot lift
these days
without asking myself what I am training for.
All around us, weapons. If you care to love about it.
I keep waking up,
taking little stocks.
Finger to the knuckle. Connection okay.
Palm to the wrist. Connection okay.
Light to eye nerve. Connection okay.
Lid to eye. Connection okay.
Jaw to skull. Connection okay.
Hips to vertebrae. Connection okay.
The checklist goes and finishes and
enters concert.
Another day, the apparent thought
being no one has killed me yet.
And as it turns over,
the engine coughing before humming,
I know I have another 16 hours to do
and another eight to gift
to you.
Working With Renae has Been a Nose Bleed
The cats on my tin roof are sticky hot.
That's why I'm up there with a push broom.
The wide bristles work well, you know?
Because they're dead. They stick a lot,
gutter leaves in late spring and dumb smelly.
A wise man once said
"if you want something felt you've got to feel it yourself"
on the back page of a grocery store rack,
start side down to the right, in case you went there
accidentally and couldn't read without a mirror.
Sometimes you wait for rain and
sometimes you dance. Play the iffdler. Sunny side up and
white side down. Until it browns. And clarity turns
into another breakfast falling into the back of a spoon and
"I don't get you"s.
The fish have been high lately.
I think they know what's been up with you
and want to say "hey, you tried," but
it keeps coming out like
"more breadcrumbs, please, thanks."
I don't know when I started feeding them.
My eyes have been getting hard again.
Dispassionate, I can forgive. Dissonance, however,
sounds like a personal problem. Hold out the bag,
this one's pretty stuck. I can't hear you up here.
That's why I'm up there with a push broom.
The wide bristles work well, you know?
Because they're dead. They stick a lot,
gutter leaves in late spring and dumb smelly.
A wise man once said
"if you want something felt you've got to feel it yourself"
on the back page of a grocery store rack,
start side down to the right, in case you went there
accidentally and couldn't read without a mirror.
Sometimes you wait for rain and
sometimes you dance. Play the iffdler. Sunny side up and
white side down. Until it browns. And clarity turns
into another breakfast falling into the back of a spoon and
"I don't get you"s.
The fish have been high lately.
I think they know what's been up with you
and want to say "hey, you tried," but
it keeps coming out like
"more breadcrumbs, please, thanks."
I don't know when I started feeding them.
My eyes have been getting hard again.
Dispassionate, I can forgive. Dissonance, however,
sounds like a personal problem. Hold out the bag,
this one's pretty stuck. I can't hear you up here.
Morning Ride
I know that
the next five tenths of a second depend on an understanding,
I am no fool.
Braking into the cut,
your foot on your pedal.
I am not as fast as I think and
neither are you, but I am
a little faster and head stronger and
that's what counts. See you later.
Pittsburgh left.
the next five tenths of a second depend on an understanding,
I am no fool.
Braking into the cut,
your foot on your pedal.
I am not as fast as I think and
neither are you, but I am
a little faster and head stronger and
that's what counts. See you later.
Pittsburgh left.
Still Work To Do (atlantic)
Salt and bloody nosed,
she will come, sun rised.
The clouds will watch and we
will suck air like bad fash
yards out of water. Not scared,
not pitied, not legged,
and not deterred. In that kind of sand,
muscles taking the give and
pushing regardless, we are
poking fingers into found bottles
for notes unwritten and save our
souls never sent anyway. The sand is good today.
A little bit rocky, but the gulls are gorgeous and fat
chuck dipping the tide pools. Freckles don't show
this early in the morning. Who really does love
swimming at night? Validity. Comes
steep these days. The clouds still watch and we
will suck. Judgement comes cheap
these days too. Belting out a
high G I am crying and I
don't know why.
Your feet in the wave rush on those pebbles,
if anyone could call it sand without being generous,
can amaze. More to say about pedicures.
There really isn't. Collecting all of the sea glass
fingers can corral. There's still work to do.
Howl at the moon
so I can hear you over the ocean rush.
she will come, sun rised.
The clouds will watch and we
will suck air like bad fash
yards out of water. Not scared,
not pitied, not legged,
and not deterred. In that kind of sand,
muscles taking the give and
pushing regardless, we are
poking fingers into found bottles
for notes unwritten and save our
souls never sent anyway. The sand is good today.
A little bit rocky, but the gulls are gorgeous and fat
chuck dipping the tide pools. Freckles don't show
this early in the morning. Who really does love
swimming at night? Validity. Comes
steep these days. The clouds still watch and we
will suck. Judgement comes cheap
these days too. Belting out a
high G I am crying and I
don't know why.
Your feet in the wave rush on those pebbles,
if anyone could call it sand without being generous,
can amaze. More to say about pedicures.
There really isn't. Collecting all of the sea glass
fingers can corral. There's still work to do.
Howl at the moon
so I can hear you over the ocean rush.
Couplets
Step songs. Stepped songs.
I would love
to believe life moved in those sorts of two a plays.
Duets of little happenings and
us both
enjoying the trappings of a communication clipped.
Into two parts we go,
glowing, but not
erstwhile knowing what it all could possibly be for.
Okay. You and me and me and I,
the you being
something I like to refer to, in moments of decontructible
nonsense forcing it's way
in to
sleep with me
would you?
I don't want the screen on.
I want heat and dreams are tremendous.
Would you hold me.
If I told you the sky was too big.
The clouds too gray.
The universe hard.
And time too much
for grass blades and everywhere too difficult
to take on alone?
I would love
to believe life moved in those sorts of two a plays.
Duets of little happenings and
us both
enjoying the trappings of a communication clipped.
Into two parts we go,
glowing, but not
erstwhile knowing what it all could possibly be for.
Okay. You and me and me and I,
the you being
something I like to refer to, in moments of decontructible
nonsense forcing it's way
in to
sleep with me
would you?
I don't want the screen on.
I want heat and dreams are tremendous.
Would you hold me.
If I told you the sky was too big.
The clouds too gray.
The universe hard.
And time too much
for grass blades and everywhere too difficult
to take on alone?
September
When Jack and I went loose
toward the drainage pipe
ending in a cement and grated block
where the marsh grew thick
with cat tails.
I meant to tell you
years removed seeing them now
in cities removed that I'm sorry I left you there
and I'm sorry Jack left too
and I am sorry for every second you
waited while I ran home for a basketball.
I said I would be back in a flash
and I flashed as fast as a blink of an eye could go
when that eyelid was blinking on an eye too young to know.
Remember how the tree tops tickled and licked
at the big sky bowl
that day in September when the trees begin to remember
last years and fast water and melt water and
snows?
It is strange how our birthdays lined up
with so much
pain.
Let's go. Let's run. Let's forget
where we've already been and go there again,
like the two foot dirt ramp was the first time and
the four feet from the porch to the ground
was the first time we felt weightless.
Snow is on my eyelash again.
I'm thinking of
middle grounds and clapped hands and
Jack tearing toward us, paws in a fury for home.
I lace up my good boots and pick out my good knife
and pat my good pack of smokes
in my back pocket. I pick out my good scarf
and think about how you used to smile
when you knew I knew I looked good.
My wallet fits the front and my quarters go
easy into my coin pocket and my socks are just.
I wish we could
smell the same fire.
Miles apart and still burning and waiting
for the leaves to turn.
toward the drainage pipe
ending in a cement and grated block
where the marsh grew thick
with cat tails.
I meant to tell you
years removed seeing them now
in cities removed that I'm sorry I left you there
and I'm sorry Jack left too
and I am sorry for every second you
waited while I ran home for a basketball.
I said I would be back in a flash
and I flashed as fast as a blink of an eye could go
when that eyelid was blinking on an eye too young to know.
Remember how the tree tops tickled and licked
at the big sky bowl
that day in September when the trees begin to remember
last years and fast water and melt water and
snows?
It is strange how our birthdays lined up
with so much
pain.
Let's go. Let's run. Let's forget
where we've already been and go there again,
like the two foot dirt ramp was the first time and
the four feet from the porch to the ground
was the first time we felt weightless.
Snow is on my eyelash again.
I'm thinking of
middle grounds and clapped hands and
Jack tearing toward us, paws in a fury for home.
I lace up my good boots and pick out my good knife
and pat my good pack of smokes
in my back pocket. I pick out my good scarf
and think about how you used to smile
when you knew I knew I looked good.
My wallet fits the front and my quarters go
easy into my coin pocket and my socks are just.
I wish we could
smell the same fire.
Miles apart and still burning and waiting
for the leaves to turn.
Smoker 29
We've been singing songs out of Winter,
out of season and out of tune.
The bang bang of air on ear drum is undeniable
when the air we're talking about gets
condensation thick.
I have something for you
in the drawer of the coffee table.
It's all relevant, you know.
Is what I'm telling myself.
Biding time before I have to walk you out
of my home. Biding time
before I have to and I
have nothing on the hilltops, besides.
out of season and out of tune.
The bang bang of air on ear drum is undeniable
when the air we're talking about gets
condensation thick.
I have something for you
in the drawer of the coffee table.
It's all relevant, you know.
Is what I'm telling myself.
Biding time before I have to walk you out
of my home. Biding time
before I have to and I
have nothing on the hilltops, besides.
That Party You've Never Been To at That Thing You've Never Seen
It is just like that
thing you penciled and had high aspirations for.
It is not like
some one forgot along the way. It is just that.
Period. Like
someone did not get the memo and we're all hands up.
I'm willing to be there.
If you are willing to admit defeat, Summer?
I know what I am
talking about, firm, if you are, half the time, scratch a brow, maybe?
thing you penciled and had high aspirations for.
It is not like
some one forgot along the way. It is just that.
Period. Like
someone did not get the memo and we're all hands up.
I'm willing to be there.
If you are willing to admit defeat, Summer?
I know what I am
talking about, firm, if you are, half the time, scratch a brow, maybe?
Coming Up The Funk
Who deserves the shopping bags
the millimeters in between the gags
and the sleep swims in between the hags
the interstices between the drags.
The big spaces of asphalt
and the boots between the human faces
the little bits of action and fault
the little bits of rocks and hard places
the little bits of understanding
that it's all a little bit of places
and faces and film strips and
a little bit of
"I love you" regardless
and "why does this keep coming up"s.
Charm me and
I wills. For my own sake do
not be mistaken.
the millimeters in between the gags
and the sleep swims in between the hags
the interstices between the drags.
The big spaces of asphalt
and the boots between the human faces
the little bits of action and fault
the little bits of rocks and hard places
the little bits of understanding
that it's all a little bit of places
and faces and film strips and
a little bit of
"I love you" regardless
and "why does this keep coming up"s.
Charm me and
I wills. For my own sake do
not be mistaken.
The Wayfinder (natureboy)
I have been inside the coke ovens
observing wildlife. Wonder: what is too easy.
Wonder what ease is. And wonder
just.
Fingers over scars and eyelashes
not thick enough to filter sunlight.
How legitimate is the waterfront
when you finally get outside
developments and condos?
The ribbon in the wood.
Breadcrumb on the floor
of some kind of fantasy.
No magic road back to whimsy
would be the ending of everything Disney
if the films rolled on for another fifteen minutes.
I saw a fish with golden and deep sea Atlantic blue scales.
He took my breath away and losing focus
I saw a squadron of pencil thin fish
above him, ready to gather
what he did not eat.
My feet in that water and
inches away I thought he was saying "hello
I am here too and if you were me
and I were you..." the thought
moved on and I
am happy to be there,
feeding the ducks again.
observing wildlife. Wonder: what is too easy.
Wonder what ease is. And wonder
just.
Fingers over scars and eyelashes
not thick enough to filter sunlight.
How legitimate is the waterfront
when you finally get outside
developments and condos?
The ribbon in the wood.
Breadcrumb on the floor
of some kind of fantasy.
No magic road back to whimsy
would be the ending of everything Disney
if the films rolled on for another fifteen minutes.
I saw a fish with golden and deep sea Atlantic blue scales.
He took my breath away and losing focus
I saw a squadron of pencil thin fish
above him, ready to gather
what he did not eat.
My feet in that water and
inches away I thought he was saying "hello
I am here too and if you were me
and I were you..." the thought
moved on and I
am happy to be there,
feeding the ducks again.
Capture
I remember, most clearly,
how I held the camera, novice.
How I held the little tan box
with the wrong focal length.
Your peer. For an isness,
us both building the frame.
You took off from there
and I watched. Happy to be.
Fingers trace up my forearms and
follow the veins to the shutter.
Lined up, it all went "click"
while rain dirtied our shoulders.
I know that wreck. That barge sand barred and bright red with rust.
I know that touch. How can I express
that what I want is inside that picture,
that alignment of our "us".
how I held the camera, novice.
How I held the little tan box
with the wrong focal length.
Your peer. For an isness,
us both building the frame.
You took off from there
and I watched. Happy to be.
Fingers trace up my forearms and
follow the veins to the shutter.
Lined up, it all went "click"
while rain dirtied our shoulders.
I know that wreck. That barge sand barred and bright red with rust.
I know that touch. How can I express
that what I want is inside that picture,
that alignment of our "us".
Rust Injection
Caterwaul
like you mean it,
gamut warning
be damned.
Someone said something
I don't care
to remember
this close to December.
August was loaded
language and history.
The barrel still burns
trigger glutted.
Hugs all around
or not. I picked you
daisies out of season.
Don't ask me how I got them.
I am trying to love
without specifics.
Grant me that.
Nonnegotiable.
Needle eaters.
World Beaters.
And cans of
spring fired worms.
Have you ever
had the pleasure
of uncorking
something like that?
You give hugs like a straw man
and I am okay
with your alien-ness
and not okay with touching you.
Asking too much,
and I, not enough
of myself. The wind
still rolls.
When did you stop
loving the leaves at your feet.
Waves of them
and the dying heat?
like you mean it,
gamut warning
be damned.
Someone said something
I don't care
to remember
this close to December.
August was loaded
language and history.
The barrel still burns
trigger glutted.
Hugs all around
or not. I picked you
daisies out of season.
Don't ask me how I got them.
I am trying to love
without specifics.
Grant me that.
Nonnegotiable.
Needle eaters.
World Beaters.
And cans of
spring fired worms.
Have you ever
had the pleasure
of uncorking
something like that?
You give hugs like a straw man
and I am okay
with your alien-ness
and not okay with touching you.
Asking too much,
and I, not enough
of myself. The wind
still rolls.
When did you stop
loving the leaves at your feet.
Waves of them
and the dying heat?
Science Fiction
The grass is wet and black. This much I know. To be fact. The love is extra. And always will be. Breath against the back of my ear where it smells funny. If I lick the tip of my finger and rub. Until it comes away dark. The same way my fingers get. Pinched roaches. Burned. Tooth scrubbed. Washed and wet again against the bushes of that bitch's house. Who never waves hello. Assuming you're up to no good. Again. I want to take her out. To Wyvern's and buy her some shots. I promised myself I would stop fucking. I promised everyone else I would stop fucking. Old people.
So I rub my fingers until the burned skin comes off. And try to ignore it. The soaking. Cutting across lawns. The grass is wet and black. Without the sun in my mouth. Someone was telling me. With a name like Geritnaquess you better be really good at dealing. Or sports. I used to parse laughter. And cheap laughter. Before I learned they work the same magic. On my nerves. Everything feels different when it rains. Not hard enough to make me wear sunglasses at night. Takes a lot. Everyone feels a little bit of celebrity. When there is occlusion. I am no different.
Before I will shake your hand. Out of courtesy. We all turn to our own. Devices making distance a little less than what it otherwise loves to be. Hell informants and the devils. And their guns. The living go reckless through my head. Like it's Easter all over again and eggs are made of plastic. With little candies inside every day. I am surprised we haven't been down before. This road. Reminds me a lot of the time I spent in Austin. Fit in at your own peril. At your convenience. Four dollars and a favor at a time. Trying not to burn. Go gray on me. Eyes fix.
And I will slit your wrists in your sleep. Is what I tell myself. To tell the stars. Pull the chord. Freefall is a perfect state. When the pressure is right. A man could stand up on air like that. How boyish can you be? Curb rise has no glamour. The moon is a diva. Tie your shoes. If you are going to walk. With me. I am more complete than I am. With you. I never know. With certainty. I was supposed to meet up with L. K. but I am. Between buildings instead and sucking. Rainwater into the seat of my jeans. Fingers playing. Instrument and mental in the concrete creases.
Wet and black and in every blade a little ball of sun. I've slept again. Outside. I've missed again. Remember the phone call? The arrangement? She waited engine running and you. Are half dressed. Wonder why she didn't come looking. For you it means less. Than it should be a wake up call. To what? Breathing in. The air feels like my hand is cranking an oar through. Slush is coming too soon for the weather. Yesterday I sat out here with a cup in a cozy. What I did before then. I do not know or. Compartmentalization is getting. To me it is.
As meaningful as saying "hug it out". To bodies so celestial I could never hope to make. Contact your supplier. Or don't. Live in a fish bowl if your memory will never be short enough to forget the castle. Is the same castle you slept in and you want something to break. Yesterday the sun came up and the sun went down. Your molecules the same. Though the dance music has not been. All that danceable. The grass is wet. The grass is black. I keep blinking and tearing up for something starlight. All I get. Contrails lit up in headlights. Mounted on the nose of another airplane going. To where I'm not.
The terror is bending in. To my insides I hum little love songs. A few minutes at a time. A night can pass. Swallowed. But not before the money hits the table. Next to the pillows. Where drool pools unchecked. You can wake up again. Into another dream. Where steam punk reigns and swords are concealed. Weapons of mass destruction lie in every field of flowers and conspiracy flies. Like diamonds from dead hands. Wires mass and convulse and take on life. Like you've never known it. She'll call tomorrow. The table will wait. Tonight we dream in science and high adventure.
So I rub my fingers until the burned skin comes off. And try to ignore it. The soaking. Cutting across lawns. The grass is wet and black. Without the sun in my mouth. Someone was telling me. With a name like Geritnaquess you better be really good at dealing. Or sports. I used to parse laughter. And cheap laughter. Before I learned they work the same magic. On my nerves. Everything feels different when it rains. Not hard enough to make me wear sunglasses at night. Takes a lot. Everyone feels a little bit of celebrity. When there is occlusion. I am no different.
Before I will shake your hand. Out of courtesy. We all turn to our own. Devices making distance a little less than what it otherwise loves to be. Hell informants and the devils. And their guns. The living go reckless through my head. Like it's Easter all over again and eggs are made of plastic. With little candies inside every day. I am surprised we haven't been down before. This road. Reminds me a lot of the time I spent in Austin. Fit in at your own peril. At your convenience. Four dollars and a favor at a time. Trying not to burn. Go gray on me. Eyes fix.
And I will slit your wrists in your sleep. Is what I tell myself. To tell the stars. Pull the chord. Freefall is a perfect state. When the pressure is right. A man could stand up on air like that. How boyish can you be? Curb rise has no glamour. The moon is a diva. Tie your shoes. If you are going to walk. With me. I am more complete than I am. With you. I never know. With certainty. I was supposed to meet up with L. K. but I am. Between buildings instead and sucking. Rainwater into the seat of my jeans. Fingers playing. Instrument and mental in the concrete creases.
Wet and black and in every blade a little ball of sun. I've slept again. Outside. I've missed again. Remember the phone call? The arrangement? She waited engine running and you. Are half dressed. Wonder why she didn't come looking. For you it means less. Than it should be a wake up call. To what? Breathing in. The air feels like my hand is cranking an oar through. Slush is coming too soon for the weather. Yesterday I sat out here with a cup in a cozy. What I did before then. I do not know or. Compartmentalization is getting. To me it is.
As meaningful as saying "hug it out". To bodies so celestial I could never hope to make. Contact your supplier. Or don't. Live in a fish bowl if your memory will never be short enough to forget the castle. Is the same castle you slept in and you want something to break. Yesterday the sun came up and the sun went down. Your molecules the same. Though the dance music has not been. All that danceable. The grass is wet. The grass is black. I keep blinking and tearing up for something starlight. All I get. Contrails lit up in headlights. Mounted on the nose of another airplane going. To where I'm not.
The terror is bending in. To my insides I hum little love songs. A few minutes at a time. A night can pass. Swallowed. But not before the money hits the table. Next to the pillows. Where drool pools unchecked. You can wake up again. Into another dream. Where steam punk reigns and swords are concealed. Weapons of mass destruction lie in every field of flowers and conspiracy flies. Like diamonds from dead hands. Wires mass and convulse and take on life. Like you've never known it. She'll call tomorrow. The table will wait. Tonight we dream in science and high adventure.
Summer Cuts 2
Beautiful starlight,
summer's really going to hurt you
I knew it going in.
I knew it going in.
What stops,
honey bear?
What stops.
It has been funny,
the walking around.
The walking around the brown lot
where the house stood.
The kicking.
The kicking little bits of black and imagining
how they died.
Everyone takes credit.
Badges and ribbons and buttons.
Quiet like on the North Side.
I do not laugh so loud these days.
"If you could take over the world..."
I try not to think about it.
He's singing to me again.
I watch my hands again.
We are kissed and made up.
And out again.
summer's really going to hurt you
I knew it going in.
I knew it going in.
What stops,
honey bear?
What stops.
It has been funny,
the walking around.
The walking around the brown lot
where the house stood.
The kicking.
The kicking little bits of black and imagining
how they died.
Everyone takes credit.
Badges and ribbons and buttons.
Quiet like on the North Side.
I do not laugh so loud these days.
"If you could take over the world..."
I try not to think about it.
He's singing to me again.
I watch my hands again.
We are kissed and made up.
And out again.
Oil On Canvas 7 P.M.
41: still goes like gold leaf
along the sides. Over stated.
36: is stator coil orange.
Brilliant in its copper cage and
wanting to be a little more
than it is
dotting wave tops and left over.
09: sings a little song by itself,
not quite white and not quite ocean gray.
Where thirty six has left off.
08: lady in arms, a violet I cannot identify with,
necessary as I whistle, brush in hand,
if I held hopes of making this photo coffee table sapphic.
95: loves the pale and while at it
loves the white and the darkness it would otherwise
leave out of play.
83: cannot be where other numbers better serve,
but what is a hard Almond
where there is Beechwood and Sea Glass Ale?
44: ties it all together and is
fench. Fench, fench, fench.
78: does not know and once you are okay with that
the lines make more sense.
02: still has some figuring out, but if you can make
the time to be on the bridge at sunset and committing memory
when the clouds are flirting with other
time zones you can wish
there was something between two and one,
decimal and simple, and fitting.
along the sides. Over stated.
36: is stator coil orange.
Brilliant in its copper cage and
wanting to be a little more
than it is
dotting wave tops and left over.
09: sings a little song by itself,
not quite white and not quite ocean gray.
Where thirty six has left off.
08: lady in arms, a violet I cannot identify with,
necessary as I whistle, brush in hand,
if I held hopes of making this photo coffee table sapphic.
95: loves the pale and while at it
loves the white and the darkness it would otherwise
leave out of play.
83: cannot be where other numbers better serve,
but what is a hard Almond
where there is Beechwood and Sea Glass Ale?
44: ties it all together and is
fench. Fench, fench, fench.
78: does not know and once you are okay with that
the lines make more sense.
02: still has some figuring out, but if you can make
the time to be on the bridge at sunset and committing memory
when the clouds are flirting with other
time zones you can wish
there was something between two and one,
decimal and simple, and fitting.
Summer Cuts
Somewhere there's a klaxon.
There's a thing going off
with all of its heart
for you and your travesty,
shuffling along one foot stepped.
Somewhere there's some medium
looking up from his glass ball
foretelling the downfall of some sky
giant, tumbling through the clouds
like a tree through lesser trees.
Somewhere someone is raising an eyebrow,
and flinching a little bit
where their mustache meets their lip,
and it is making no sense to them,
but you are
dying
and if I could keep
the blood out of your mouth
I would write you a song at the same time.
It will be snowing soon. Wait for me.
It will be snowing soon. I will meet you there.
Somewhere there's a klaxon.
There's a thing going off
with all of its heart
for you and your travesty,
shuffling along and step logiced.
Your are not loved, but wait a little while,
would you? I thought we were
on the same page and besides
everyone is a little crashed these days.
There's a thing going off
with all of its heart
for you and your travesty,
shuffling along one foot stepped.
Somewhere there's some medium
looking up from his glass ball
foretelling the downfall of some sky
giant, tumbling through the clouds
like a tree through lesser trees.
Somewhere someone is raising an eyebrow,
and flinching a little bit
where their mustache meets their lip,
and it is making no sense to them,
but you are
dying
and if I could keep
the blood out of your mouth
I would write you a song at the same time.
It will be snowing soon. Wait for me.
It will be snowing soon. I will meet you there.
Somewhere there's a klaxon.
There's a thing going off
with all of its heart
for you and your travesty,
shuffling along and step logiced.
Your are not loved, but wait a little while,
would you? I thought we were
on the same page and besides
everyone is a little crashed these days.
Slotty
"It's all predetermined
in the grand scheme,
you know?"
I don't, but I do
know that I am badass at slot cars
if you happen to have a track.
I've been thinking
the teddy bear
I grew up with,
head falling off,
should go to my
adopted mother.
The only one who can fix it.
I want my bear back.
I want my nights back.
I want my sleep back.
I want and I do not know
who to ask?
in the grand scheme,
you know?"
I don't, but I do
know that I am badass at slot cars
if you happen to have a track.
I've been thinking
the teddy bear
I grew up with,
head falling off,
should go to my
adopted mother.
The only one who can fix it.
I want my bear back.
I want my nights back.
I want my sleep back.
I want and I do not know
who to ask?
When Was the Last Time We Skipped, Broke
Trying to account for last times
we danced. The times when
it all went slip, shod in only
the things we could bring on our backs.
I think I liked you more when you were poor
and you had more to say and less to offer
the casual. Remember when brushing shoulders
with them was an ordeal
we could talk about
all day? Neither do I. I do remember,
lying across your stomach,
hands pointed toward the wall,
asking you what it could possibly be about
on that grand scheme
and you breathed out, long. Like a daddy. And I
touched my forehead to see if I was still bleeding and you
said "yeah", hearing my sign language and I
said "yeah", hearing my voice inside
your well.
When was the last time? I cannot remember.
Who does?
we danced. The times when
it all went slip, shod in only
the things we could bring on our backs.
I think I liked you more when you were poor
and you had more to say and less to offer
the casual. Remember when brushing shoulders
with them was an ordeal
we could talk about
all day? Neither do I. I do remember,
lying across your stomach,
hands pointed toward the wall,
asking you what it could possibly be about
on that grand scheme
and you breathed out, long. Like a daddy. And I
touched my forehead to see if I was still bleeding and you
said "yeah", hearing my sign language and I
said "yeah", hearing my voice inside
your well.
When was the last time? I cannot remember.
Who does?
The Children 6
Behind the hills of my eyes
they are wading into
something they will forget
so easily.
In the gulch they will
find parts and pieces and
torn fences.
So many chiggers.
When they get home
something will be on the table,
hot and steaming.
Mother smiling.
Happy that her boys
went out and got dirty.
Earned their little stripes
in high adventure.
Behind the hills of my closed eyes
she's wiping the sweat from their eyebrows,
asking about what life is like
in outer space.
They're smiling back and snickering some
because she's an alien too
trying to get inside information
to thwart tomorrow.
Summer lasts forever
when time out is a life time and welts
take tooth spans
to fade.
Tonight is dinner.
Nothing more.
Dad will square the books tomorrow. She will watch.
Today was adventure.
they are wading into
something they will forget
so easily.
In the gulch they will
find parts and pieces and
torn fences.
So many chiggers.
When they get home
something will be on the table,
hot and steaming.
Mother smiling.
Happy that her boys
went out and got dirty.
Earned their little stripes
in high adventure.
Behind the hills of my closed eyes
she's wiping the sweat from their eyebrows,
asking about what life is like
in outer space.
They're smiling back and snickering some
because she's an alien too
trying to get inside information
to thwart tomorrow.
Summer lasts forever
when time out is a life time and welts
take tooth spans
to fade.
Tonight is dinner.
Nothing more.
Dad will square the books tomorrow. She will watch.
Today was adventure.
Hot Guitar
One two footed toward the hill top somewhere
around high noon and where
the sweat is coming up through my palms,
pushing skin away
into blisters staved
by cold water
last night when I held the pan until I cried
bloody murder.
Trying to forget mistakes,
the sting is familiar for its name and I wish
I waited a little longer to eat or at least
understood the food would still be good
a little charred.
One two timing it in four count and
crying for the view,
the view, the fucking view.
"Get there for me"
I tell myself
skip hopping over brush climbing
through sidewalks rarely walked and the trees
are breaking away,
but my lungs are too. I don't cough up blood
most days. Today is not like most.
I can count on two hands
the number of times I've cried
most years. This year is no different.
I am feeling in four cross four music
my limitations. The sky will not break
ahead of my engine. My engine is broken
before the sky.
I am not afraid, but today
I am human and it will be
a long walk home
to feed the ducks by the sand hugged river below.
Today, the Earth. Tomorrow, the blue sky.
Some day, the stars. I know better. It is not that glorious.
Another hamburger hill
in another war
no one will read about
around high noon and where
the sweat is coming up through my palms,
pushing skin away
into blisters staved
by cold water
last night when I held the pan until I cried
bloody murder.
Trying to forget mistakes,
the sting is familiar for its name and I wish
I waited a little longer to eat or at least
understood the food would still be good
a little charred.
One two timing it in four count and
crying for the view,
the view, the fucking view.
"Get there for me"
I tell myself
skip hopping over brush climbing
through sidewalks rarely walked and the trees
are breaking away,
but my lungs are too. I don't cough up blood
most days. Today is not like most.
I can count on two hands
the number of times I've cried
most years. This year is no different.
I am feeling in four cross four music
my limitations. The sky will not break
ahead of my engine. My engine is broken
before the sky.
I am not afraid, but today
I am human and it will be
a long walk home
to feed the ducks by the sand hugged river below.
Today, the Earth. Tomorrow, the blue sky.
Some day, the stars. I know better. It is not that glorious.
Another hamburger hill
in another war
no one will read about
Cool Devices
Every time I pick up
a chisel and hammer and
locking pliers, maybe a talon of carpet
knife and pry bar, monkey
wrench and needle nosed
whatevers. Ampmeter and alligators and bucket
head shop vac. Saved saw dust and
back saw and tennis ball socked. Every time
I pick up
I put down little passions.
The dream of sleeping in late
on my front porch and
watching the sun go.
The clouds come. Spreading
like my smile
before I tighten
my cap, stand up from my rocking
chair and find the long grassed trail
to the place where everything waits
for a little human touch.
The shed. The office. Call it
what you will.
In my retirement dreams I call it the mill.
Not you waiting there
for the nail gun and tube turn-it-wets.
But someone waiting for me
all damn day.
Me the kind sadist.
Patient for the end of the day.
Give me time, sweetness.
Give me time.
a chisel and hammer and
locking pliers, maybe a talon of carpet
knife and pry bar, monkey
wrench and needle nosed
whatevers. Ampmeter and alligators and bucket
head shop vac. Saved saw dust and
back saw and tennis ball socked. Every time
I pick up
I put down little passions.
The dream of sleeping in late
on my front porch and
watching the sun go.
The clouds come. Spreading
like my smile
before I tighten
my cap, stand up from my rocking
chair and find the long grassed trail
to the place where everything waits
for a little human touch.
The shed. The office. Call it
what you will.
In my retirement dreams I call it the mill.
Not you waiting there
for the nail gun and tube turn-it-wets.
But someone waiting for me
all damn day.
Me the kind sadist.
Patient for the end of the day.
Give me time, sweetness.
Give me time.
Smoker 28
I do not know how we keep coming up with the same lighters,
but if you are laughing
I am laughing too. And I'm glad we have the same taste
in colors and thumb grips,
but more importantly:
why you gotta like my colors, nigga?
Playing. But seriously, it has been a joy.
The talking to you.
We should trade knives some time.
but if you are laughing
I am laughing too. And I'm glad we have the same taste
in colors and thumb grips,
but more importantly:
why you gotta like my colors, nigga?
Playing. But seriously, it has been a joy.
The talking to you.
We should trade knives some time.
Now Now, Honey Bee
I have been looking at your plastic basket
to gauge where you are on another Monday.
I can't. But here is what I will do.
I will pitch two pennies across the counter
like jacks in a palm and the ball in the air.
And you can glance over your shoulder,
but I will pretend anyway,
and manufacture memory,
and we will have a moment, Honey Bee.
A second or two
where I know you and you know me
as well and good intentions will have
for once
prevailed and spared change and unbroken
big bills will wait and for two point three seconds
someone will hear about that moron
with too many pennies
and not enough reason not to.
to gauge where you are on another Monday.
I can't. But here is what I will do.
I will pitch two pennies across the counter
like jacks in a palm and the ball in the air.
And you can glance over your shoulder,
but I will pretend anyway,
and manufacture memory,
and we will have a moment, Honey Bee.
A second or two
where I know you and you know me
as well and good intentions will have
for once
prevailed and spared change and unbroken
big bills will wait and for two point three seconds
someone will hear about that moron
with too many pennies
and not enough reason not to.
Candy Plus. No Reward, Alright.
Sugar sugared sloppy seconds,
long eyelashes and razor blades,
cotton balls and lazy dazes,
we had something
to make kids pace and
some ways to kick doors in on faces.
I was wondering if you might take them
panties off and give my nose a hosing
with the thickness of fabric laced up graces
or maybe laceless shoe stomp
my itty bitty passions one two timer
going hard or not at all with something
cover eyes and smile and turn it up?
I'm not in it. I thought different.
When I coke dialed I thought maybe
you could get me and you were
half a sister, maybe brother, and you'd cover
the split and difference in this instance
I think softly while you talk me down
from edges and in the hedges
squatting, pissing, I am missing
all the things you keep on saying
half significant. It is catching,
something hatching in the spaces
where I cannot manage to still sit still.
It comes on back and inside
I am okay because I am with you.
You are not with me, mind tricking and tricking
and I am sneezing a little bit because my nose
is connected to my dick and I
have to stop being so forward
if I want to make a dime.
long eyelashes and razor blades,
cotton balls and lazy dazes,
we had something
to make kids pace and
some ways to kick doors in on faces.
I was wondering if you might take them
panties off and give my nose a hosing
with the thickness of fabric laced up graces
or maybe laceless shoe stomp
my itty bitty passions one two timer
going hard or not at all with something
cover eyes and smile and turn it up?
I'm not in it. I thought different.
When I coke dialed I thought maybe
you could get me and you were
half a sister, maybe brother, and you'd cover
the split and difference in this instance
I think softly while you talk me down
from edges and in the hedges
squatting, pissing, I am missing
all the things you keep on saying
half significant. It is catching,
something hatching in the spaces
where I cannot manage to still sit still.
It comes on back and inside
I am okay because I am with you.
You are not with me, mind tricking and tricking
and I am sneezing a little bit because my nose
is connected to my dick and I
have to stop being so forward
if I want to make a dime.
Smoker 27
Watching the music evolve and knowing
I can't do what I used to.
Cannot do what I am used to.
It all plays in familiar notes
and I am getting
closer all of the time.
I can't do what I used to.
Cannot do what I am used to.
It all plays in familiar notes
and I am getting
closer all of the time.
Phantom Insects
It's not that I want you to die.
It is that there is no place
I can go and it all keeps coming
out from the inside and I've been
trying to smile for you
and trying
to get back to where I belong.
The place where my skin
doesn't crawl on its own.
It is that there is no place
I can go and it all keeps coming
out from the inside and I've been
trying to smile for you
and trying
to get back to where I belong.
The place where my skin
doesn't crawl on its own.
Vapor Trails
When is your birthday?
When is your birthday.
I've been meaning to buy you something
you couldn't get on your own.
It's been good waking up
without night lights. It's taken practice.
Because you're breaking my heart.
I do not know you.
But you do not know me either,
and that counts for something, doesn't it?
Avocados are in short supply,
the news tells me.
I heard many bees were dying and
we have hurricanes on the horizon.
Who would you kiss
given the zombie apocalypse?
And hard times. I look at the sky and I
look at you and I imagine you are
looking back at me
from where you are
and it all makes better sense
from up there.
When is your birthday.
I've been meaning to buy you something
you couldn't get on your own.
It's been good waking up
without night lights. It's taken practice.
Because you're breaking my heart.
I do not know you.
But you do not know me either,
and that counts for something, doesn't it?
Avocados are in short supply,
the news tells me.
I heard many bees were dying and
we have hurricanes on the horizon.
Who would you kiss
given the zombie apocalypse?
And hard times. I look at the sky and I
look at you and I imagine you are
looking back at me
from where you are
and it all makes better sense
from up there.
Dander
Keeping up with the Jones's and the Sally's and the
Michael's and the Ron's and
shaking it off and
shaking it out on the back roads.
Kippers. Kippers, kippers
kippers, and capers
I hope I made a good impression
on the people I will
never see again or maybe
at the wedding.
Shampoo is cheap, but
time stays expensive.
Love me, love me, love me,
God damn it. Touch my skin
the way I chase after you
this once. Please?
Or don't. I'll understand either
way. And we'll be back. Banging.
There needs to be a name
for these kinds of creations.
I'll name it. I'll name it and rip
something out of experience
and slant rhymes
and
all
together
now.
Michael's and the Ron's and
shaking it off and
shaking it out on the back roads.
Kippers. Kippers, kippers
kippers, and capers
I hope I made a good impression
on the people I will
never see again or maybe
at the wedding.
Shampoo is cheap, but
time stays expensive.
Love me, love me, love me,
God damn it. Touch my skin
the way I chase after you
this once. Please?
Or don't. I'll understand either
way. And we'll be back. Banging.
There needs to be a name
for these kinds of creations.
I'll name it. I'll name it and rip
something out of experience
and slant rhymes
and
all
together
now.
Us
After Cold Cave's "The Great Pan Is Dead"
They say we've got a lot of work to do
and I know
it's true.
Would you be mad at me
if I told you
I didn't care?
If I told you I was
still hunting
for something new and familiar and gold and
rust at once?
I said I would pick up guitar.
I still plan to.
I know people will say
what they will.
There's no shame in that. Honey child,
there's no shame in that.
They say we've got a lot of work to do
and I know
it's true.
Would you be mad at me
if I told you
I didn't care?
If I told you I was
still hunting
for something new and familiar and gold and
rust at once?
I said I would pick up guitar.
I still plan to.
I know people will say
what they will.
There's no shame in that. Honey child,
there's no shame in that.
Verse
The part of you that
cannot sleep with the lights off
catches on the corners high
where the windows meet
the ceiling and shadows
lurch drunk on television glow.
When they die, they've nowhere to go
but down into the closets inside your skin
like Peckers into little houses
they will bore through
when they're hungry enough
to hear the voices inside your walls,
plain as day.
Ring em Up
I'm pocket protector,
Lifetimes of lecture
Hard times and left turns
It's a full time job
To be without a care
Not meeting your eyes
Until I'm there.
Why My Music Plays Loud
I can appreciate your noise complaint.
I really can. And, more over,
I do.
Uncomfortable with
any number of things
leading up
I do not know,
but I understand.
Please, however, become
part of what I hold inside and lie about
day in, days out, and let me feel
for one night, one god damned night,
something close
to things I could otherwise never understand.
I really can. And, more over,
I do.
Uncomfortable with
any number of things
leading up
I do not know,
but I understand.
Please, however, become
part of what I hold inside and lie about
day in, days out, and let me feel
for one night, one god damned night,
something close
to things I could otherwise never understand.
Sometime Shine
"The river is gorgeous.
Always is.
I mean, today. Apart from yesterday.
Always is.
One of these days you're going to forget your camera
without realizing it was the last time around."
I cannot account for you or your smile
or your stupid taste in clothes.
I would feel close
for the same way we evaporate
against the pavement,
dripping in August
on the middle spans of the Fort Douglas bridge,
if it were not for the distance
you can sew between
with long practice
you do not talk about head on
no matter how many
drinks in
we will go
come Friday.
For now I am okay.
It is what you are so much more
often than I imagine possible, even
when my luck piles up like
smoke machine soap bubbles
settling to outer space's floor and
the sky trips over itself
and goes tumble drunk
into the setting sun.
That never happens
to me. The wind is high and I want
my welling eyes, locked to the sun,
to catch your glance.
You on the move, again. The air was cold
when we lit out for the trail,
and it is cooler now. The cloud bank
looks like God pulled New York City out of the ground
and chucked it inland,
burning through the atmosphere,
and every minute I spend watching is a
microsecond of its last breath.
Watching you disintegrate
in the distance, I wipe my eye,
duck my shoulders, and
dig my toes.
"Wait up!"
Always is.
I mean, today. Apart from yesterday.
Always is.
One of these days you're going to forget your camera
without realizing it was the last time around."
I cannot account for you or your smile
or your stupid taste in clothes.
I would feel close
for the same way we evaporate
against the pavement,
dripping in August
on the middle spans of the Fort Douglas bridge,
if it were not for the distance
you can sew between
with long practice
you do not talk about head on
no matter how many
drinks in
we will go
come Friday.
For now I am okay.
It is what you are so much more
often than I imagine possible, even
when my luck piles up like
smoke machine soap bubbles
settling to outer space's floor and
the sky trips over itself
and goes tumble drunk
into the setting sun.
That never happens
to me. The wind is high and I want
my welling eyes, locked to the sun,
to catch your glance.
You on the move, again. The air was cold
when we lit out for the trail,
and it is cooler now. The cloud bank
looks like God pulled New York City out of the ground
and chucked it inland,
burning through the atmosphere,
and every minute I spend watching is a
microsecond of its last breath.
Watching you disintegrate
in the distance, I wipe my eye,
duck my shoulders, and
dig my toes.
"Wait up!"
Pixie
One pinch to grow large
two pinches to grow small.
Three to laugh until you cry,
four to feel nothing at all.
Five to wake up and
play card games.
Six to get caught
in an engines on, vertical stall.
Seven to step back
and eight to feel the wind.
Nine to feel the life in your skin
and ten to sing in key.
After that, it's up to you,
your arms, and your breath against the sea.
two pinches to grow small.
Three to laugh until you cry,
four to feel nothing at all.
Five to wake up and
play card games.
Six to get caught
in an engines on, vertical stall.
Seven to step back
and eight to feel the wind.
Nine to feel the life in your skin
and ten to sing in key.
After that, it's up to you,
your arms, and your breath against the sea.
Synchromesh
At the river again
watching the stars waving, not drowning
and playing stones across
the glow stick wave tops
marking the water like
blue white road flares
in a two million car, black asphalt, pile up.
No survivors. Sitting still
enough to feel the ground sliding by the water
sitting still, the sky turns
Northwest, and contrails split
moonlight into threads
as they speed on their bearings
behind the black reservoir hill,
I come apart,
held too tightly, and the splinter
glass threads flow away
in their wake.
watching the stars waving, not drowning
and playing stones across
the glow stick wave tops
marking the water like
blue white road flares
in a two million car, black asphalt, pile up.
No survivors. Sitting still
enough to feel the ground sliding by the water
sitting still, the sky turns
Northwest, and contrails split
moonlight into threads
as they speed on their bearings
behind the black reservoir hill,
I come apart,
held too tightly, and the splinter
glass threads flow away
in their wake.
Through the Carousel
Entry speeds match,
but who brakes first
and who brakes last.
Tail out over rumble strips and the run off
to plastic water drums and flame glorious realignment.
My eyes are on you and your
glowing ceramics and white rims
spinning in place
and my skin
pulling away from it's face
along the high line
I took 43 out of 45 laps.
The crash
will be
your black flag
if you come out of it still running.
I am all metal
toward the exit
with enough track
to hold one set of tires.
but who brakes first
and who brakes last.
Tail out over rumble strips and the run off
to plastic water drums and flame glorious realignment.
My eyes are on you and your
glowing ceramics and white rims
spinning in place
and my skin
pulling away from it's face
along the high line
I took 43 out of 45 laps.
The crash
will be
your black flag
if you come out of it still running.
I am all metal
toward the exit
with enough track
to hold one set of tires.
Relations
I'd rather have my belly scratched
and lose a little on the side.
I'd rather have my paw to tap,
my ear, so scratched, my guide.
I'd rather be a sucker and purr
than stare death from my eyes.
I don't mind if you take sometimes,
because you've read the sign.
In white on read it clearly states,
"beware of dog, he bites."
Have some, test it, before I do,
with me that's all alright.
Have me have a go, I don't mind.
Afterall, it is just a friendly try.
Scruples and palettes differ,
the argument never lies,
weight by measure or measure by
weight the game comes to the eyes.
Do what you will and decide what you want
but, beware of the dog,
he bites.
and lose a little on the side.
I'd rather have my paw to tap,
my ear, so scratched, my guide.
I'd rather be a sucker and purr
than stare death from my eyes.
I don't mind if you take sometimes,
because you've read the sign.
In white on read it clearly states,
"beware of dog, he bites."
Have some, test it, before I do,
with me that's all alright.
Have me have a go, I don't mind.
Afterall, it is just a friendly try.
Scruples and palettes differ,
the argument never lies,
weight by measure or measure by
weight the game comes to the eyes.
Do what you will and decide what you want
but, beware of the dog,
he bites.
You Are No Good
Be whatever the fuck you want to be.
Be closed minded, about
the fact that you haven't opened your head
to structure and the freedom lying there
waiting for your touch, naked
inside a nest of stupid chaotic
spun days, and call it enlightenment,
but admit you've fooled no one.
Be whatever the fuck you want to be.
Be the Jack or the Queen or
wear the rings, real or not, or the chain
real or not. Smoke or don't, but don't smoke
in my bathroom. I like to shit in peace.
Be the ass or the hare or the fox or the mystery
animal to be revealed in tomorrow's episode.
Count down or count up or be the one always counting out loud,
or don't speak. Ever.
Be whatever the fuck you want to be.
Be a horrible friend, or an okay friend,
or a person I still call sometimes
when I'm stumble prone and the stars are spinning
and I remember what it felt like when you dragged me
to my feet and "what's wrong with you?"
was a story too long for my head to buffer
and I shrug and smirk at a face no longer there
and fall over again, and the voicemail left is ambient early morning
road noise, until the battery dies.
Be whatever the fuck you want to be.
All we ask is that whatever your pursuit of being makes you,
let it not make you into a self serving, conceited and entitled ,
hoof in mouth, humorless and holier than though, dick.
Be closed minded, about
the fact that you haven't opened your head
to structure and the freedom lying there
waiting for your touch, naked
inside a nest of stupid chaotic
spun days, and call it enlightenment,
but admit you've fooled no one.
Be whatever the fuck you want to be.
Be the Jack or the Queen or
wear the rings, real or not, or the chain
real or not. Smoke or don't, but don't smoke
in my bathroom. I like to shit in peace.
Be the ass or the hare or the fox or the mystery
animal to be revealed in tomorrow's episode.
Count down or count up or be the one always counting out loud,
or don't speak. Ever.
Be whatever the fuck you want to be.
Be a horrible friend, or an okay friend,
or a person I still call sometimes
when I'm stumble prone and the stars are spinning
and I remember what it felt like when you dragged me
to my feet and "what's wrong with you?"
was a story too long for my head to buffer
and I shrug and smirk at a face no longer there
and fall over again, and the voicemail left is ambient early morning
road noise, until the battery dies.
Be whatever the fuck you want to be.
All we ask is that whatever your pursuit of being makes you,
let it not make you into a self serving, conceited and entitled ,
hoof in mouth, humorless and holier than though, dick.
Theoretics
My tongue has always responded
more amply to the geometric,
more sanguine and short lived
to the organic
feel of anything and every last thing.
Interpretation whipping like fly
fishing and higher strung, inside, for the
tail of the line than the hook,
winged and flashing, into water.
All the same,
it would be nice
to eat tonight.
more amply to the geometric,
more sanguine and short lived
to the organic
feel of anything and every last thing.
Interpretation whipping like fly
fishing and higher strung, inside, for the
tail of the line than the hook,
winged and flashing, into water.
All the same,
it would be nice
to eat tonight.
Adventure Quest In Midnight D
Scatter brained and in love,
the click track of free wheels side by side by side,
and his cigarette embers whipping by
fireflied. The head wind is tailing
East to West since the sun went down
and pedaling up hill West to East to take in
the hill top skyline hours and a six pack ago
was a stroke of brilliance.
The streets are drizzle shined and twinkling
red, our tail lights blinking and crossing
dashed whites and double yellows.
Profundity is a deck of cards and a razor blade
and a white jacket with a busted zipper.
She's belting Nirvana
almost to the point where we can bang
every stop light in a row and I'm swinging out front
to hear the words carry
and throw my rooster tail into the street light glow.
Cutting and diving,
dividing what little
traffic there is between our spinning wheels,
we sing like sidewalk chalk
in hands so small they were easy to forget.
The hills roll back,
the starred sky unrolls before,
and where have we been
all of our lives?
Tenements rise like black dragon jaws as we tilt
along the banks of street rivers and banners,
splitting the clouds like rocket propelled arrow shafts.
He whistles along, not far behind, as we
loop, remixed and tight to frames.
Three shades of knight, he, she and I,
wayfarers together,
never to meet again,
but until never comes to pass,
we are three Summer bombers
at war, in full dive,
knives out, with enough wind noise to make
a heart stand still,
or make a lifetime of sixty seconds:
pure downhill.
the click track of free wheels side by side by side,
and his cigarette embers whipping by
fireflied. The head wind is tailing
East to West since the sun went down
and pedaling up hill West to East to take in
the hill top skyline hours and a six pack ago
was a stroke of brilliance.
The streets are drizzle shined and twinkling
red, our tail lights blinking and crossing
dashed whites and double yellows.
Profundity is a deck of cards and a razor blade
and a white jacket with a busted zipper.
She's belting Nirvana
almost to the point where we can bang
every stop light in a row and I'm swinging out front
to hear the words carry
and throw my rooster tail into the street light glow.
Cutting and diving,
dividing what little
traffic there is between our spinning wheels,
we sing like sidewalk chalk
in hands so small they were easy to forget.
The hills roll back,
the starred sky unrolls before,
and where have we been
all of our lives?
Tenements rise like black dragon jaws as we tilt
along the banks of street rivers and banners,
splitting the clouds like rocket propelled arrow shafts.
He whistles along, not far behind, as we
loop, remixed and tight to frames.
Three shades of knight, he, she and I,
wayfarers together,
never to meet again,
but until never comes to pass,
we are three Summer bombers
at war, in full dive,
knives out, with enough wind noise to make
a heart stand still,
or make a lifetime of sixty seconds:
pure downhill.
At The Table
I will admit that it's difficult sometimes
to say. There is no way to parlay
your hand into a straight flush, but there's also
no rule that says
you can't
flip
the
table,
gun down security,
and bolt for the door.
I will admit, sometimes,
that it's difficult
to be happy go lucky
when you'd rather bet on a half full cup
being half empty.
When the best thing ever
would be a push.
I will admit that it is hard
I will admit that someone has to pay,
but I will also submit that the distance is far
and between here and now are many days.
to say. There is no way to parlay
your hand into a straight flush, but there's also
no rule that says
you can't
flip
the
table,
gun down security,
and bolt for the door.
I will admit, sometimes,
that it's difficult
to be happy go lucky
when you'd rather bet on a half full cup
being half empty.
When the best thing ever
would be a push.
I will admit that it is hard
I will admit that someone has to pay,
but I will also submit that the distance is far
and between here and now are many days.
Baseball Casual
I've got my swing down
and that counts for something.
Worked my way up
to the bat that I wanted to swing.
That is the easy part because
it holds true:
you can teach a batter to field,
but you can't teach a fielder to hit.
and that counts for something.
Worked my way up
to the bat that I wanted to swing.
That is the easy part because
it holds true:
you can teach a batter to field,
but you can't teach a fielder to hit.
Spots on a Canvas
Slow Sunday goes slow.
Slow in the rivers and
slow in the beds,
slow to feel the shivers and
slow to feel the head.
This is not my hand,
that is not my face.
Every last thing
photographic in its right place.
It's hard to stir. It's hard to stir.
Who are you and who am I and
where are we and exactly who died?
Comfort over histories I can't remember
that drew us, so exact, and so together, but
now we are apart again
by the force of eyelids
muscled away from dreams and
the seems are busting
with little grace and I would pay you
if it meant I could recall your face.
I can't so I will not and I will
see you later
when you have more money and
the week is closer to ending
the six day tirade.
I love you. For the same reason.
Sundays. Let's put on our faces
and go out.
Slow in the rivers and
slow in the beds,
slow to feel the shivers and
slow to feel the head.
This is not my hand,
that is not my face.
Every last thing
photographic in its right place.
It's hard to stir. It's hard to stir.
Who are you and who am I and
where are we and exactly who died?
Comfort over histories I can't remember
that drew us, so exact, and so together, but
now we are apart again
by the force of eyelids
muscled away from dreams and
the seems are busting
with little grace and I would pay you
if it meant I could recall your face.
I can't so I will not and I will
see you later
when you have more money and
the week is closer to ending
the six day tirade.
I love you. For the same reason.
Sundays. Let's put on our faces
and go out.
Dietary Tips
A steady intake of
cookies for breakfast and
fried chicken for dinner
will catch up with you
sooner than me
in the form of
my knuckles
against your cheek.
I know I could be greater,
but where's the challenge in that.
Besides,
much like a small country
with a king's ransom of nationality and
complex to last generations,
I am the last one who needs
to be weaponized.
cookies for breakfast and
fried chicken for dinner
will catch up with you
sooner than me
in the form of
my knuckles
against your cheek.
I know I could be greater,
but where's the challenge in that.
Besides,
much like a small country
with a king's ransom of nationality and
complex to last generations,
I am the last one who needs
to be weaponized.
Trigger Man (air to air)
Pulling a rare and textbook perfect
canted rolling scissors.
The opportunity to come
directly out of the sun long gone. Blown.
Smiles keep running ear to ear
behind your oxygen mask.
The gees are getting to you, I hope,
the way they are getting to me.
The joy is in the maneuver. The knowing
"I'm doing it! I'm doing it."
But the ground is coming. Fast. I know
you know
which way you're going to break and
I do not.
Thumb on the hat switch, it is hard not to watch
the horizon rise and fall
the sun wheel and dive behind cloud banks,
Earth rise, fall, and sky blind again.
Hydraulic boosters are crying.
The air is tearing.
The real nerve is found headfirst supersonic
toward the ground.
I don't want to blink, watching your helmet glitter
glancing straight up at me
through your canopy. Judging distance and guts and glory.
You are beautiful,
but I will roll as deep and when you throttle out
I will be ready to light you up
and send you home in flames and titanium confetti,
nothing more than a tea cup for a casket.
canted rolling scissors.
The opportunity to come
directly out of the sun long gone. Blown.
Smiles keep running ear to ear
behind your oxygen mask.
The gees are getting to you, I hope,
the way they are getting to me.
The joy is in the maneuver. The knowing
"I'm doing it! I'm doing it."
But the ground is coming. Fast. I know
you know
which way you're going to break and
I do not.
Thumb on the hat switch, it is hard not to watch
the horizon rise and fall
the sun wheel and dive behind cloud banks,
Earth rise, fall, and sky blind again.
Hydraulic boosters are crying.
The air is tearing.
The real nerve is found headfirst supersonic
toward the ground.
I don't want to blink, watching your helmet glitter
glancing straight up at me
through your canopy. Judging distance and guts and glory.
You are beautiful,
but I will roll as deep and when you throttle out
I will be ready to light you up
and send you home in flames and titanium confetti,
nothing more than a tea cup for a casket.
The Chrome God, Tomitroux
came to me in a dream five years ago
on the shores of a city made of gray sand and
brown water tide pools and
no sign of a moon or stars or clouds and
spires of termite tubes hollowed out
for human use and enough flies
to choke a lung if there were any
need of breathing in an afterlife.
I blinked and he blinked
his two foot high wide eyes brown veined
retina blacked and said his name was
all I remember hearing was a million horsed engine's noise.
Fire compressed into cylinders and
steel blade chopped and blowing
through the back of his head and out of his
mouth that sucked the thick water from
the ankle deep slur of earth
eating our feet and spat it hot across
my face.
The sound was the name of the Devil himself,
if I ever heard it blow across my ears hard
enough to pull the skin away like hairs
against a hurricane and he blinked
his two foot high wide eyes brown veined and
I blinked back, afraid for my
second life and this time aware
that if I did lose
my life there would be nothing else.
The chrome god came to me again
yesterday and this time stood
no taller than before, face wide, eyes thinner and
we talked, entirely this time, about him.
The city was gone, fallen into its own mouth,
leveled by its own power and heat
to its buried solid grounds, the oceans
so evenly distributed with the departure of all
celestial influence that it became a
bright gray marble in some telescope's eyes.
Walking in this world
instead of that other,
he was so much the same and
I bit my tongue
to wake myself and failed.
"Write it for me," he asked if I could remember his name and
the skin at my cheeks began to crawl and my ears started to scream and
my nose began to bleed
because I had no way to spell a sense
with no expression so he said
"I will do it for you."
On that hill, against a star burned sky,
with his big toe and a down cast eye,
the other still square on my own,
he wrote in the short grass and litter
weather whip shreds of plastic shopping bags and
spray paint cans
nine letters
that lit little fires and
left gray ashed dirt
where I need not go
to know nothing has grown there since
a name I wake wide eyed with in the middle of
summer nights since. A name I thought I left behind,
a name I want nothing to do with.
on the shores of a city made of gray sand and
brown water tide pools and
no sign of a moon or stars or clouds and
spires of termite tubes hollowed out
for human use and enough flies
to choke a lung if there were any
need of breathing in an afterlife.
I blinked and he blinked
his two foot high wide eyes brown veined
retina blacked and said his name was
all I remember hearing was a million horsed engine's noise.
Fire compressed into cylinders and
steel blade chopped and blowing
through the back of his head and out of his
mouth that sucked the thick water from
the ankle deep slur of earth
eating our feet and spat it hot across
my face.
The sound was the name of the Devil himself,
if I ever heard it blow across my ears hard
enough to pull the skin away like hairs
against a hurricane and he blinked
his two foot high wide eyes brown veined and
I blinked back, afraid for my
second life and this time aware
that if I did lose
my life there would be nothing else.
The chrome god came to me again
yesterday and this time stood
no taller than before, face wide, eyes thinner and
we talked, entirely this time, about him.
The city was gone, fallen into its own mouth,
leveled by its own power and heat
to its buried solid grounds, the oceans
so evenly distributed with the departure of all
celestial influence that it became a
bright gray marble in some telescope's eyes.
Walking in this world
instead of that other,
he was so much the same and
I bit my tongue
to wake myself and failed.
"Write it for me," he asked if I could remember his name and
the skin at my cheeks began to crawl and my ears started to scream and
my nose began to bleed
because I had no way to spell a sense
with no expression so he said
"I will do it for you."
On that hill, against a star burned sky,
with his big toe and a down cast eye,
the other still square on my own,
he wrote in the short grass and litter
weather whip shreds of plastic shopping bags and
spray paint cans
nine letters
that lit little fires and
left gray ashed dirt
where I need not go
to know nothing has grown there since
a name I wake wide eyed with in the middle of
summer nights since. A name I thought I left behind,
a name I want nothing to do with.
Someone Stayed Late
Danny wasn't human. Danny wasn't close,
Danny wasn't sure of anything
Danny had no ghost. He couldn't throw a shadow
if it weighed only a gram. He couldn't
do stairs and he couldn't sit or stand.
Danny had no conscience.
Danny had no pitch. If Danny could compile,
he'd do it with a hitch. Danny never slept.
He couldn't try to eat. If he wasn't strapped
he wouldn't find his seat. He swore too much,
he cupped his nuts, he never kept his head.
He beat on bins, he hit the bricks,
he chewed on chips of lead.
Danny was in to mercury, starships,
and short day dreams.
Danny never first date kissed,
never sorted or cleaned.
Danny was a window licker
with no sense of rhyme or theme.
He was a little bit of straight line power.
A little bit of speed. A little bit of
fuck tomorrow. A little bit of need.
Sometimes he got it going.
Sometimes he went face first.
Sometimes he went too often
into the pitch of night.
Sometimes I wish that only once,
Danny could get it right.
Danny wasn't sure of anything
Danny had no ghost. He couldn't throw a shadow
if it weighed only a gram. He couldn't
do stairs and he couldn't sit or stand.
Danny had no conscience.
Danny had no pitch. If Danny could compile,
he'd do it with a hitch. Danny never slept.
He couldn't try to eat. If he wasn't strapped
he wouldn't find his seat. He swore too much,
he cupped his nuts, he never kept his head.
He beat on bins, he hit the bricks,
he chewed on chips of lead.
Danny was in to mercury, starships,
and short day dreams.
Danny never first date kissed,
never sorted or cleaned.
Danny was a window licker
with no sense of rhyme or theme.
He was a little bit of straight line power.
A little bit of speed. A little bit of
fuck tomorrow. A little bit of need.
Sometimes he got it going.
Sometimes he went face first.
Sometimes he went too often
into the pitch of night.
Sometimes I wish that only once,
Danny could get it right.
Take Heart (selections from Prescription Static)
In the space of vacuum,
the vacated throne of what is and
what can be
there is you
and there is me.
Together we are.
We make.
We believe.
We smoke and we drink and
we get wet in being.
And I believe that is all there is
to it. You are free
to argue and
I will rejoin, but
the beauty of us
is in the morning
because, though we both do dream,
we both do wake
into a universe not of our design and
where the night falls
we will rise
until our engines cease
and our bodies are given over
to the timelessness of earth and trees.
Bury me in California,
would you?
I've always wanted to see the Pacific.
Bestys
and you want to come back in here
like some kind of god damned tourist,
like some kind of season ticket holder
with a soda can and a discount
and four kids
and enough bags
to put away a chop sawed pig?
You want to come back in here
with metal detectors blowing off sounds
like broadsides and enough junk
in your veins to make contact highs at
twenty paces? You want my arms
around you like I haven't dreamed
dreams of putting your face in
a table mounted vise?
And you want to come back in here
like some kind of god damned
hand stamped tourist?
like some kind of god damned tourist,
like some kind of season ticket holder
with a soda can and a discount
and four kids
and enough bags
to put away a chop sawed pig?
You want to come back in here
with metal detectors blowing off sounds
like broadsides and enough junk
in your veins to make contact highs at
twenty paces? You want my arms
around you like I haven't dreamed
dreams of putting your face in
a table mounted vise?
And you want to come back in here
like some kind of god damned
hand stamped tourist?
Without
To be honest,
I've been lying
about the whole thing
to myself.
It doesn't make the sunrises
any less heart raking.
It hasn't made the nights
any less challenging.
Why are you working me over?
No one got hurt.
No one you knew.
I've been lying
about the whole thing
to myself.
It doesn't make the sunrises
any less heart raking.
It hasn't made the nights
any less challenging.
Why are you working me over?
No one got hurt.
No one you knew.
Brooklyn Aire
There's something that comes out of the bricks
in Brooklyn when the sun peeks over the Atlantic
and hits the stone. Something borne in the air
when the motors gun and the guns and sirens quiet
and everyone stares down the same barrel of
go and get it if you want it. There's something
that comes off the fire escapes as they start to bake
and the meters and their readers and
the bulbs above the subway gates. Made. Earned.
There's something in the collar as you start to sweat
another god damned Brooklyn day through.
Something that follows, wherever else you go,
something you can almost taste wherever else sunrise finds you.
in Brooklyn when the sun peeks over the Atlantic
and hits the stone. Something borne in the air
when the motors gun and the guns and sirens quiet
and everyone stares down the same barrel of
go and get it if you want it. There's something
that comes off the fire escapes as they start to bake
and the meters and their readers and
the bulbs above the subway gates. Made. Earned.
There's something in the collar as you start to sweat
another god damned Brooklyn day through.
Something that follows, wherever else you go,
something you can almost taste wherever else sunrise finds you.
Aspect Ratio
The things that make you useful
are the same things that make you
difficult.
I still love us. We make a great
are the same things that make you
difficult.
I still love us. We make a great
Sand In the Water EP
Sand In The Water
Drink to good health
and fuckable kids,
drink to yourself
and all that you id.
Drink to tomorrows
and toast to success
Drink to your sorrows
and your life a mess.
Take it on the chin,
its what Jesus would.
Take it as a win
the hangman's hood.
Drink until you die
enough to be alive.
Drink until the truth
turns out to be alright.
Drink for legacy,
toast to the moon.
Drink for Jesus's sake
I hear he's coming soon
Take it on the nines,
the tens, and the twelves.
Take it none in mind
let them pick up the pieces of your selves
There's sand in the water
there's sand in the water,
my baby was born still.
There's sand in the water
there's sand in the water,
on melancholy hill.
I Didn't Talk Her Down and I Never Wanted To
"A mirthless bastard"
was what she said
the night she fell asleep
and I killed her in her bed.
She slept and dreamed of everything
else we were not.
From her eyes night terrors streamed
even as they saw spots.
Fingers closed in prayer
behind her neck.
Teeth split her lips, bared
Her pulse thumb checked.
I strangled the life
right out of her veins.
No longer my wife,
us both in no pain.
Sand In The Water 2
Nothing tastes like coke anymore
at least since you stopped
talking to me. I miss you some
days go by when I am trying to feel
the minutes before you stopped
talking to me. It's crazy, right?
I know it is. Rhetorical. I know
I am not what I used to be,
but neither are you.
Everyone says high
sometimes. Then again,
sometimes
no one does.
Drink to good health
and fuckable kids,
drink to yourself
and all that you id.
Drink to tomorrows
and toast to success
Drink to your sorrows
and your life a mess.
Take it on the chin,
its what Jesus would.
Take it as a win
the hangman's hood.
Drink until you die
enough to be alive.
Drink until the truth
turns out to be alright.
Drink for legacy,
toast to the moon.
Drink for Jesus's sake
I hear he's coming soon
Take it on the nines,
the tens, and the twelves.
Take it none in mind
let them pick up the pieces of your selves
There's sand in the water
there's sand in the water,
my baby was born still.
There's sand in the water
there's sand in the water,
on melancholy hill.
I Didn't Talk Her Down and I Never Wanted To
"A mirthless bastard"
was what she said
the night she fell asleep
and I killed her in her bed.
She slept and dreamed of everything
else we were not.
From her eyes night terrors streamed
even as they saw spots.
Fingers closed in prayer
behind her neck.
Teeth split her lips, bared
Her pulse thumb checked.
I strangled the life
right out of her veins.
No longer my wife,
us both in no pain.
Sand In The Water 2
Nothing tastes like coke anymore
at least since you stopped
talking to me. I miss you some
days go by when I am trying to feel
the minutes before you stopped
talking to me. It's crazy, right?
I know it is. Rhetorical. I know
I am not what I used to be,
but neither are you.
Everyone says high
sometimes. Then again,
sometimes
no one does.
We're Still Friends (Don't Worry)
You don't really know what it is I do, do you?
It's flattering;
that I can understand.
Your enthusiasm is charming,
that too, is understandable,
but you sound like my mother
last time I was home
and she grappled with
the idea that I may be
poorly defined,
but it's charming really,
your grasping for a source
of income. I'll wait it out.
And gloat some. Let the idea of unconvention
bloat some.
It's not that serious,
promise,
but not to me.
My fingers
and my wires
crossed;
a boy has got to eat.
It's flattering;
that I can understand.
Your enthusiasm is charming,
that too, is understandable,
but you sound like my mother
last time I was home
and she grappled with
the idea that I may be
poorly defined,
but it's charming really,
your grasping for a source
of income. I'll wait it out.
And gloat some. Let the idea of unconvention
bloat some.
It's not that serious,
promise,
but not to me.
My fingers
and my wires
crossed;
a boy has got to eat.
Game Shows
Doors to pick,
two or three.
One is already
starting off empty.
Play the stats the choice you just made
make again, or play it through to bitter end.
Two hands behind my back,
double or nothing,
how you going to act.
Choose wisely, I'm not on call
and don't call if your shit got stepped on
so how you going to act?
I don't practice the books or try to stack
the odds against what you want to do
so I never pack,
I keep it close so if you want
you can give up that ghost
when your arm twitches
don't try to talk to me
like I'm one of them witches,
one of them suckers
one of them unlit bulb mother fuckers,
stand back and make me wonder
if you got one of them clack clack
make you wonders
behind your back
or don't. I'm here for the same reasons
you think you are,
headlights still on at the front of the car.
Engine running. Still funning,
small talking like I give a shit,
are we doing or are you gonna keep trying
to spit conveniences.
Let's do. This ain't about me
and it ain't about you.
I got no time to track niggas down,
I got no time to track players out of town.
I gotta eat and you gotta put some of that heat
into the seat of something you can love
so stop treating our shit with kid gloves.
I'm trying to transact and
what you're doing is not on the books,
by hook and by crook, leave that junk at home
if you want to be free, it's the laws
governing our bubble
that you have to begin to own.
two or three.
One is already
starting off empty.
Play the stats the choice you just made
make again, or play it through to bitter end.
Two hands behind my back,
double or nothing,
how you going to act.
Choose wisely, I'm not on call
and don't call if your shit got stepped on
so how you going to act?
I don't practice the books or try to stack
the odds against what you want to do
so I never pack,
I keep it close so if you want
you can give up that ghost
when your arm twitches
don't try to talk to me
like I'm one of them witches,
one of them suckers
one of them unlit bulb mother fuckers,
stand back and make me wonder
if you got one of them clack clack
make you wonders
behind your back
or don't. I'm here for the same reasons
you think you are,
headlights still on at the front of the car.
Engine running. Still funning,
small talking like I give a shit,
are we doing or are you gonna keep trying
to spit conveniences.
Let's do. This ain't about me
and it ain't about you.
I got no time to track niggas down,
I got no time to track players out of town.
I gotta eat and you gotta put some of that heat
into the seat of something you can love
so stop treating our shit with kid gloves.
I'm trying to transact and
what you're doing is not on the books,
by hook and by crook, leave that junk at home
if you want to be free, it's the laws
governing our bubble
that you have to begin to own.
The Chicken Whore the Egg
The thing about being
crazy in describable terms,
better yet, terms able to be described
on good days,
is that you can pick your foments
to not hide, and embrace
yourself, and let Gods sort it out
in sidelong conversation and
as long as you are okay
with what you are
you are
home
free.
crazy in describable terms,
better yet, terms able to be described
on good days,
is that you can pick your foments
to not hide, and embrace
yourself, and let Gods sort it out
in sidelong conversation and
as long as you are okay
with what you are
you are
home
free.
Pittsburgh Black and Whites 8
Pass your tongue over
the teeth still crooked
and remember how they got that way
and smile. At least you are
home every night. Every night
a love story in a paper bag.
That much more than plastic.
the teeth still crooked
and remember how they got that way
and smile. At least you are
home every night. Every night
a love story in a paper bag.
That much more than plastic.
No Yes
I cannot remember the last time I ate breakfast
or saw the sun rise
with no fear.
My hands still shake
without trying and I regret
taking the pills that made them so.
It's not all bad. It's not all bad.
I still have
everything else
I can't remember clearly and
that is something
of an achievement.
My emergency contact
is time. Always there and junk.
I'm covered. Promise.
Worst comes to worst
you can take that night stand drawer to a pawn shop
and foot the shovel and stone bill.
or saw the sun rise
with no fear.
My hands still shake
without trying and I regret
taking the pills that made them so.
It's not all bad. It's not all bad.
I still have
everything else
I can't remember clearly and
that is something
of an achievement.
My emergency contact
is time. Always there and junk.
I'm covered. Promise.
Worst comes to worst
you can take that night stand drawer to a pawn shop
and foot the shovel and stone bill.
Sunrise Over Highland Park Bridge
The Gulls are cutting
against the inland wind.
White kites against the brown blue bruise of river.
Bicycle rests against suicide proof chain links.
Below, barges heaped with coal
approach the locks. The clouds are
playing Pictionary above
with an enthusiasm
I could muster
if I were high
er than where I am. Seeing them scrawl
and call to one another
in the hours when there is no one I can call
who would answer in kind
brings my eye to the dirty red sun
and inside I shine
for the better part of a minute
because I am super connected
to Mother.
against the inland wind.
White kites against the brown blue bruise of river.
Bicycle rests against suicide proof chain links.
Below, barges heaped with coal
approach the locks. The clouds are
playing Pictionary above
with an enthusiasm
I could muster
if I were high
er than where I am. Seeing them scrawl
and call to one another
in the hours when there is no one I can call
who would answer in kind
brings my eye to the dirty red sun
and inside I shine
for the better part of a minute
because I am super connected
to Mother.
Destructolux
Do you ever get tired
of being indestructible?
Sometimes. Do you ever get tired
of trying to kill yourself?
Never. It is hard sound.
The temptress
out of league
that pretends
not to know you at the prom
after the limo and corsage
and the courting and the yearbook.
Cement. I'm sorry
your initials are not next to mine
in the stars above Kettle hill.
I do get tired
of being lucky
day after day
knowing you are waiting for me
six feet away,
your hand still
on my heart.
of being indestructible?
Sometimes. Do you ever get tired
of trying to kill yourself?
Never. It is hard sound.
The temptress
out of league
that pretends
not to know you at the prom
after the limo and corsage
and the courting and the yearbook.
Cement. I'm sorry
your initials are not next to mine
in the stars above Kettle hill.
I do get tired
of being lucky
day after day
knowing you are waiting for me
six feet away,
your hand still
on my heart.
Hot Metal Bridge
The clouds are ghosted
into the flat aluminum of the sky
above the Point like acid etched circuitry.
From here, the rooftops
muscle up, man sized steel shavings to
a sun sized magnet.
into the flat aluminum of the sky
above the Point like acid etched circuitry.
From here, the rooftops
muscle up, man sized steel shavings to
a sun sized magnet.
Damaged Goods
Take me home
please.
I have no ice cream in my freezer
but if that piques you
I will promise anything
without second thoughts
if you promise not to
have any. Let's play
telephone, let's play sex,
let's play anything and
play off whatever is next.
Take me home
please.
I've nothing to do and want
honestly
nothing to do with you tomorrow.
If I could kill,
you're up on the list.
If I could be still
you would be a gift.
Take me home
this one time
and I can promise you
the best night of my life
in recent memory.
The understanding:
my memory is
minutes chemical blacked.
please.
I have no ice cream in my freezer
but if that piques you
I will promise anything
without second thoughts
if you promise not to
have any. Let's play
telephone, let's play sex,
let's play anything and
play off whatever is next.
Take me home
please.
I've nothing to do and want
honestly
nothing to do with you tomorrow.
If I could kill,
you're up on the list.
If I could be still
you would be a gift.
Take me home
this one time
and I can promise you
the best night of my life
in recent memory.
The understanding:
my memory is
minutes chemical blacked.
Discovery
While I am
jealous of
everyone
I know,
I know
there is something
enviable in
discovery.
Who I am.
A little more every sunrise.
For that I can,
broad shouldered,
continue.
jealous of
everyone
I know,
I know
there is something
enviable in
discovery.
Who I am.
A little more every sunrise.
For that I can,
broad shouldered,
continue.
The Children 5
Talk to me, baby. Talk to me.
"We are all the same and
in loving have loved and in dying
have loved and also lived
and in living have died by-"
Turns come and spend and
I am searching the fire escape
for traces of foot prints, but they
are so careful. Detection is
become an art.
Whispering to my ear about
things I cannot remember interrogated
or tested. I dreamed that part
didn't I? The little hands touching
nerves reminding me that I
am not from here. When I can
tune my ear to their wave
it is tragic pathos
that tastes like God awful cotton
candy. Mouth meltingly
gorgeous. If I could see it with my eyes,
instead of my heart,
I could begin,
again, to make a start
out of what has become to be wings
on the shoulders of a thing
already poor
served by years crawling,
talk to me baby. Talk to me
because I have the power
now to give you
whatever your little black heart desires.
I will love you
in every way
no one else has.
"We are all the same and
in loving have loved and in dying
have loved and also lived
and in living have died by-"
Turns come and spend and
I am searching the fire escape
for traces of foot prints, but they
are so careful. Detection is
become an art.
Whispering to my ear about
things I cannot remember interrogated
or tested. I dreamed that part
didn't I? The little hands touching
nerves reminding me that I
am not from here. When I can
tune my ear to their wave
it is tragic pathos
that tastes like God awful cotton
candy. Mouth meltingly
gorgeous. If I could see it with my eyes,
instead of my heart,
I could begin,
again, to make a start
out of what has become to be wings
on the shoulders of a thing
already poor
served by years crawling,
talk to me baby. Talk to me
because I have the power
now to give you
whatever your little black heart desires.
I will love you
in every way
no one else has.
Cosis
Fast food coffee, fast food coffee,
fast food coffee and mutual overhearing
of the conversation near us,
listening to the bosses of yesteryears
talking high on the dealer scene and
tidbits of respect and retributions
and self enforced solutions to prior engagements
gone sour. We can chuckle some and
knuckle under some while we listen to
tales of bats and broken windows and
fingers pointed and cut off old school,
self policing gray haired nonsense years removed
from the years of use and using come bright
into the territory of sale like job fair booths and
morning coffee is just another fix for
another kind of problem like we solve
for another kind, and absolved like
antique rug peddlers to cluster fucked collectors
who don't know up from counseling
or a band-aid from an arm broke sling.
It's all laughs and laughs and I feel
older and wiser in that company
every time. Throwing down a dollar
for another 12 ounce
coffee. I am still surprised when you explain
to me that you quit drinking and
the answer to my why is still
a litany of friend's suicides.
My writing it off my bucket list
lends no joy
because you know I'm lying
like I cannot understand, my own mechanics
Benedicting subconscious plans.
Cheers, let's move these bags.
The day is young
like we used to be
and the night is coming
to cut us both
a little more free. I'm buying
tomorrow.
fast food coffee and mutual overhearing
of the conversation near us,
listening to the bosses of yesteryears
talking high on the dealer scene and
tidbits of respect and retributions
and self enforced solutions to prior engagements
gone sour. We can chuckle some and
knuckle under some while we listen to
tales of bats and broken windows and
fingers pointed and cut off old school,
self policing gray haired nonsense years removed
from the years of use and using come bright
into the territory of sale like job fair booths and
morning coffee is just another fix for
another kind of problem like we solve
for another kind, and absolved like
antique rug peddlers to cluster fucked collectors
who don't know up from counseling
or a band-aid from an arm broke sling.
It's all laughs and laughs and I feel
older and wiser in that company
every time. Throwing down a dollar
for another 12 ounce
coffee. I am still surprised when you explain
to me that you quit drinking and
the answer to my why is still
a litany of friend's suicides.
My writing it off my bucket list
lends no joy
because you know I'm lying
like I cannot understand, my own mechanics
Benedicting subconscious plans.
Cheers, let's move these bags.
The day is young
like we used to be
and the night is coming
to cut us both
a little more free. I'm buying
tomorrow.
Don't Sell Yourself Short, Beautiful
be that as it may,
I have had sex more times
with inanimate objects than people
that could not be
farther from amalgams of organs or,
well, consider this, if you will,
the question, put to a 10 year old.
Draw it. The drawing would be
more accurate with no knowledge
than what I did
with my table lamp
at that age,
be that as it may,
I have had sex more times
with inanimate objects
than people, so pardon my lack of understanding
when you tell me you feel ugly.
My standards are not low.
Everything in this world
has the capacity to make me glow.
I can't tell you
about the last time
a wrench said "I love you"
because you're the only one who has.
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