the song your band never sang

poetry

and breathe
life is not about

(please pause for the bass interlude)

what you think it is
because no one cares
for your 40 inch

(please pause for the guitar solo)

tv
because everyone knows
its not about the size
but rather about

(please pause as the drummer does his thing)

how well it drives in
your new car but its not about that

breathe

(silence as the words go on but the music stops)

life is not about
all the things you never handles well or all the things you wear and hear and
who you knew and what you wanted out of it
because you know its just not like you thought it was

(crescendo and pause as you scream)

just something more

Damaged

poetry

Behind the glass window, she waits
for lust and obsession to pass,
for claustrophobic thoughts and the spasmodic soul to stop

In the living room shadows, nasty ogling beasts wait for her- to
crack, snap and break
till there is nothing left-
maybe bones or ashes scattered somewhere no one cares to look

At the bottom of eternity a boy waits,
amidst the tomorrows that never came,
the ashes of furtive passions,
for the second before he hurt her