i’ve kept friends like apartments
changing every year or two
and when i return it’s not the same
the walls have been repainted
and redecorated with pictures of smiling strangers
the large oak table we carved all our names into
has been irrevocably replaced
so i leave
my memories and faith
unstable.
(a new sieve norm – once it’s been done twice)
you spent at least two years
too many
in a former soviet republic
received at least two
too many
massages from strong muscular
bearded men in awkward
spa/tea houses because
that was just the custom
ate at least two
too many
parts of the cow which were
never intended by nature
or God
to ever be consumed
gave your wife at least two
too many
drinks on more than one occasion
just to watch her motor mouth
impress even you.
left at least one
too many
pairs of em… soiled(?)
boxers in my guest room during
a brief visit
where the child you’re about father
may well have been conceived
(probably not… i’m not soo good with
the numbers)
you waited at least one year
too many
to join the ranks of fatherhood.
welcome to the brotherhood.
“but i am confident you will
be brilliant” (and that boy will
love a pipe, beer, and literature
like a man should).
(p.s. i love that it’s a picture of you with someone other than your wife)
The books are read
Papers dissected, articles analyzed.
Memorizing every in and out
Of this date and that guy
And where he or she was
When that battle went down
Or this miracle happened—
A veritable encyclopedia.
You could grow a long, gray beard
And write your doctoral dissertation
Pontificating on the level
Of your unsurpassed knowledge
On the subject we all try
So desperately to understand.
But that all means nothing
If you don’t know it
Where it matter’s most.
You gotta have faith, man.
You just gotta have faith.
for you and me
but right now
a kid like you and me (once were)
cries out for parent’s whom’ll
never hold him again
and fathers dig through
piles of dirt
till fingernails fail
and more
because children aren’t
something you give
up on.
no matter
how many bodies
are dumped via bulldozer
into trucks to be removed
after the already departed
souls.
It was the arthritis,
he said,
as he handed me his
envelope.
But he used to have
a name for himself.
A hundred dollar ad
in a local paper.
Must have sold him
about sixteen of ’em
just from that one ad,
he said as he pulled out
his pictures.
That was the biggest,
but I only did that one
once. Hard working in
a shop with no heat,
arthritis and all.
But he used to have
a name for himself.
Doghouse Jim.
A hundred dollar ad
in a local paper.
e n t r o p y
fear
HATRED
[ERROR]
$money$
$money$
$money$
$money$
pots
mearcs
there’s a video camera every where to be seen
why NOT
PUT ON
a happy
face? 🙂
put yourself at the center of your map
program your gps to tell you where your at
g
ive
yourself away for cash
or a laz-e-boy
e n t r o p y
write your book
change your name
never resolve
never end
eyes closed
mouth open.
the sieve and the sand 
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