I thought that growing up
in a broken home
was good
because Christmas lasted
a whole nother day
and Santa brought double the goods;
but now I see
that being married is better
because I still get the spoils,
of my divorced parents,
along with another Christmas
with a new family
and double the spoils.
Sometimes,
it’s
just
some
dumb
shit
that ruins
everything
for Everybody.
But life goes on
Supposedly.
I scoff at the absurdity
that we can get fit
on a video game,
the culprit of sedentariness,
but you might just be fun enough
to make me enjoy exercise
placing you among the glorious ranks
of basketball, ultimate frisbee, and…
is the list really that short?
Crap, I gotta get fit.
wind doth fill the sails of
sand blown dust made crop
circles in your hair to match
cyclical patters in your emotion
And he was lurking around every corner
that bastard cop that has it in for me
But he never seems to pull me over
just smiles and waves as I cruse by
at a steady 83
I’ve burned a lot of gasoline
hoping to avoid the man
but all in all he doesn’t seem
to give a good god damn
So I wonder if I’m running
from a self-conceived behavior
or if he really is gunning for me:
just too busy reading the paper.
and like a precipice
(but more because precipice is
a wonderfully awkward word
than the fact that it’s REALLY
like a precipice)
life is about to drop
to gap
and i’ll have to leap
to hope to landipice
as the rings rise and hold steady
slowly thickening the medium that is the air
making it harder and harder to see our friends
sitting across the table as we hold a beer
and thumb over pipe after ring blown
through ring talking beer and then poop bad
idea after bad idea returning to already argued
points again and then once more simply to remind
us that none of us is anywhere near to the perfect
we’re glad we never dreamed of and then
it’s off for a midnight run to the arches of gold
where they say if satisfaction wasn’t found in the
beer than maybe it can be found in a quarter pound of
lard
It’s a damn shame
that we have to talk like this
But any talk is good talk
even if we rely on
jovial banter to
pretend we don’t know
anything about anything.
It’s hard to deal with.
I know it’s hard to deal with.
So Shut your window
Draw your blinds
And pretend I never said
Anything.
reading through old poetry
to revive old memories or at least to remember
there are more colors out there than red
more feelings than blissful indifference?
finding less heart than i remember feeling
purples less bright than the reds i recall
memories more dull than the grays implied
Experience dripping?
Hot bath water down a suddenly chilled back
Cold rain from the tip of a nose to the top of a chin
Icemelt from a fading stalactite
Sweat from one’s being
Blood from one’s teeth
Tears from one’s burning eyes
A symbol of Completion.
The winter freezes tight, then it melts away
The last of the bath from a fresh, clean skin
The soul drips from our pens and our words and our songs and our swords
And I can only hope
I’ve a big enough bucket
to catch it.
disappointment hit like a single brick to my face
the trouble is trying to tell if it would have hurt
worse had i not known it was coming.
He’ll stop every time and
hold the door while you
carry in your groceries.
And you’ll smile
and he’ll smile
and you’ll have a short chat
about the weather,
which neither of you know anything
about
but both of you have
a pretty good idea
that it’s not going to
be so great this week.
And you’ll laugh
and he’ll laugh
and you’ll go your separate ways,
Reluctantly, he
Necessarily, you
And he’ll just wish you wern’t a good Christian woman,
so he wouldn’t feel so bad about
feeling so badly about you
death is a mere word
describing all things and none
synonym for birth
Lo! experience death
in life and I truly know
I am live and dead
so i stood there
at first i was a young child with spaceships in my head, then an old man, then a beggar counting his change, then a wealthy man with continents for fingertips, then a woman with tattooed hands, and then i was charles fucking bukowski! and so many other things until i couldn’t keep track any longer
i was kept just out of focus
as the beautiful world around me was all sharp pink and vivid blues and luscious purples and bright yellows
all we had ever known, most beautiful place in the whole damn place
right outside the gates of fairytale castle
and i had known, and knew, and was experiencing, that it was slowly dying
the magnificent colors got duller the more your eyes would travel towards the castles shiny exterior, now something just below shiny
and once your eyes got right in the middle, right in the heart, right in the goddamned eyes of the thing you could clearly tell that it was going black and white
all the carebears and unicorns and leprechauns would soon start to lose their magical powers
some of the leprechauns would commit suicide, others adultery, others would become irish
unicorns losing their horns
carebears who stopped caring became just bears
starting eating the humans
not that there’d be much news to that now, see, because i decided to go inside of the fairytale castle
not just to look around
not just to see
but i went in and i set it upon myself to see just what the damn place was made of
just what made it tick
and i came to an unassuming room that said:
“DO NOT ENTER”
the whole place was magnificent otherwise
more beautiful than fairytale land, mind you, which i reside, and is the most beautiful place anyone had ever seen
this castle, the head castle, the main artery of fairytale land was the most beautiful place in it, for good reason, with good measure, and other things that are positive
and i had decided, i had picked the lock, and i watched in horror
they had been feeding the sick and poor to an evil monster that was hooked up to some vile machine which, after seeing, i understood was keeping the whole facade up
and i sat there, split into quite a few different pieces outside of fairytale castle, watching the color drain from the world and everything that could ever be good with it
having removed the machine and letting the vile beast go i sat wishing with every one of me that i’d never been to this damned castle and knowing at the same time with at least one of me that it’s what i was made for.
At a glance
there’s nothing to
write home about
but we’ll write anyway
and see what seeds are sown
perhaps we’ll find something has
grown
perhaps we’ll find a reason not
to dig the bugger up
But it’d look so nice
next to that vase
of Flowers
ice encases everything
creating memories out of cars
and blades of grass.
family, memories
and a Christmas tree too
warm blankets and Luke 2
put the square through the
circle to fit your nightmare
in a good dream, all for
the prettiest book cover
apocalypse make-up
apocalypse smile
and god has the answers
he’s just a really good liar
and maybe that makes him
hard to admire
makes me cold on the outside
but inside i’m on fire
how you expect me to hold up your world and my own is hard to grasp given that mine was crumbling before yours was placed atop of it and for it to
be
so
heavy
when you said it so light
makes it hard
for me
to lie
for you.
Gingerly dear friends!
Let us wander with the masses
and just try to settle in
while this little issue passes
Or get your gun
and wander out
just far enough
to take a shot
And gingerly, dear friends
show the bastards what you’ve got
i can’t sleep tonight
so i breathe in the beauty
of your supine sighs
in the glow of christmas lights–
kissing prayers onto your cheeks.
the sieve and the sand 
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