i’m so sad

October 14, 2010

the sun doesn’t set on
our love baby
but it’s dusk now,
so come on

get in the car
i’ll drive you home
and when the stars
come out

pretend not
to notice.

i took a leap today

October 14, 2010

writing using words
folks far superior to me i know it’s hard to imagine
to request in clear but big words
details with the same hands that write poetry
about programs for which it’s highly unlikely i’m qualified
for further education you’d think i’d quit at some point
and hoping against hope
for acceptance when this same writer is rejected from just about everything
or at least and the least really isn’t too little to ask
for patience a seldom recognized saintly gift
in understanding clear communication is for writers of prose

Shores

October 14, 2010

Salty sea breezes
I’ve heard tell of such things,
though it’s quite a march to find them,
and March is half a calendar-year away.

Souls blow in, I reckon.
Whisping across cheeks and thighs
and other barer skins and through
the hair and through the heart
of things.

Confused, I imagine, for some
salty sea breeze.
Perhaps a bit less briny.

ceaseless pounding of flesh
against the ground as i beat my body into submission
bloody nipples the only casualty

Peeling the Orange

October 12, 2010

The palpable scent—
Sweet, sickly,
heavy,
Clings to weigh down hydrogen,
citrus molecules,
Barometric pressure.

Discarded rinds—
Sliding, peeled
with grasps, gasps, gentle tug,
separating soft slices,
taste exotic fare.

Rinds redolent of potpourried sweat
tropical fruit—
Delicious, dripping bare.

untitled pt. 2

October 12, 2010

the gravedigger did the dirty work
his shovel rotating as the hands
of time zoomed all around us like
the horse flies on my grandfather’s farm
and there you were,
oh, there you were
your lifeless body looking foriegn in
the moonlight
twisted and distorted
a fairy-tale gone wrong

and what was left of me left
after he slumped you over
started covering you up
dim light
peeking over
the horizon
i drove home and listened
to your favorite songs
and you were alive with me.

I was born in a laboratory.
My cognizance stamped out on a microchip.
I am a single-core processor and 128 gigabytes of RAM
stuffed inside a semi-squamous sack of
sputum, pustule, and bone.

She was left at a Battered Women’s Shelter
for dead or otherwise. The other battered Women
didn’t care much for themselves.
Nor for her. Nor the children.
Ignorance ever the mark of a battered life.

But I tend to push my emulator
and fake the sort of care one needs
to take care of one’s needs.

The fools and the machines never
ever stand together. Though I suppose
the fools rarely ever stand.

prayer

October 11, 2010

in dim lights
with repeating chords softly reverberating
the pastor led a prayer
instructed us to breathe in, deeply,
you whispered into my ear
“think of a smile”
(an inside joke)
but i did
then smiled
only partly because of the joke
but mostly because
you had just whispered into my ear
while I was breathing in
during a prayer
with repeating chords reverberating softly
in lights, dimmed.

lake superior (fresh water)

October 11, 2010

he tells me to get some land
some waterfront on lake superior
to get me and some of my fuckin
buddies around and get some fuckin
land
it’s the
largest fresh water source
on the fuckin planet
i’ll never need water
fuck detroit
he says
i don’t have time to
wait around for that shit
i need to get me some fuckin land
and i know he’s right
cuz when the shit hits the fan
at least i know i’ll have a plot
with my name on it
where no one else can stand
and watch the shit fly
or i could always wait till
people want to build shit
there and pay me twice what
i payed for it and fund my
retirement
like the guy
if i make it that long

wine control

October 10, 2010

it is i who lacks self control
it is i who needs self control
but how do i control myself
when control is exactly what i lack?
here’s to hoping for help
from the outside.

the vine produces grape
with or without a maker of wine.
the question is
are said grapes grub free?

lessons you can learn.

October 9, 2010

yes i think highly of myself
i’m told it means i was raised in a healthy family
parents who loved me
probably more than yours loved you.
oh i dont mean that to sound harsh
but i’m good looking
smarter than most
probably smarter than you if i put my mind to it
but the truth is
i’m not insecure enough to need to prove myself.

you see i’m pretty grand with people
folks tend to laugh at my jokes
and while i can be overwhelming at times
it’s probably just your own insecurities
which are improperly responding to my self asurances.

i run faster and farther than just about everyone
around
i could probably win the boston marathon tomorrow
if i chose to enter
but i dont need to prove to myself my ability running
unless you need me to prove it to you.
even then its unlikely i’ll enter
looking this good in a running leotard
would only intimidate the really good competition
taking away a lot of the fun

you’ll see with less work that i’m brighter
i’ll show in a shorter time that i’m wiser
that i know more
that i live better
that there is no confidence i lack.

you’ll see in no time i’m the best damn thing there ever
was.

and though you’ll probably feel envy
dont be embarrassed
that’s normal around me.

—–

these thoughts would be less embarrassing if any
were pulled from the air instead of my mind.
yes, i know a thing or two about pride. but i dont know
where to begin -i’m utterly lost in my search of
true humility

Warrior

October 9, 2010

He’s doing it though. He’s really doing it.

Occupational hazards aside. Dagger out. Shot
gun loaded and locked and danger
ous. But he says what he says to be true:

If never a dull moment, then never a bad idea.

and with every body piled neatly
corners clogged and reeking
(and the smell will never come out)
there he goes. He’s really doing it.

Blood for blood, I reckon.
and God Save him, that bountied king.

The winter is a comin and 
I have got no potatoes left
Oh Lordy lord I am on my way
to starvation road, 
Little scrawny Gee points at the holes 
In his shoes, saying 
” oh sister will we make it to good ol christsmas ?”
Da and Ma ran away to heaven, and so  
Baby Jesus comes each year to us with charity soup
He is a nice old baby, thousand years old and everything 
I wish he’d bring cake instead.  
   

luxury

October 7, 2010

i’d sing in the bathtub
or a ridiculously large
comfortable
shower with a nice
‘rain’ setting
and enjoy cigars while
soaking in pools
up to my neck
as i read, and sleep,
read, sleep, and occasionally
break for meals
of an absurdly tasty assortment
probably with a beer each time.

there’d be sports. thats for certain.
i’d probably take on a few new ones
as football is only weekly and for nearly
half of the year they rest.
i’d need baseball and basketball to fill
the nights.

perhaps i could watch it on a waterproof screen
while i sing.
in my bathtub or absurdly large
shower
with a nice
‘rain’ setting

The committee is ecstatic with your progress
but it must reaffirm: no good deed goes
unpunished. No righting goes unwronged.
There is peace to be had, but
in the committee’s eyes, it will not be yours.

Process your paperwork, please. Double-check
that you’ve used the proper letter-head.
We simply can not stand any botched numbers.
Else, the committee may move to have you
committed, at which point you’ll be
fully-qualified to sit.

a flattening

October 6, 2010

of good things like the gospel
and humility they say
it will flatten you
bringing you lower than low
till you look up and see everyone
above you.
even those below you.
and you peel yourself off the floor

wondering where to go from the
lowest of the low

sliver

October 6, 2010

travelling along the veins
the moon looking over you
as wise as can be as he
knows the value of distance
the distance between words
between you and him

Toppers

October 5, 2010

The lids are heavy
caps and grates and tops and eye
and I can’t seem to compensate
i think. I can’t remember.
opened, closed, hard to lift and
shit I can’t get
shut-eye with this
racket. What’s that happening
beyond the tilted shades?
they’re hard to lift. and even if
I tried to twist I just
can’t seem to compensate
or lift up all these sewer grates
So at the least, I guess
there’ll be no hiding

Chorus

October 5, 2010

Got my hat and bling
You see?
You see, I sing
I’ma get me my night on the town
Go down
Going down town
To walk round round roun’ run and have some fun
Bada-BING
This that and the other thing
But I won’t hang too long
Because everything is ending
All this,
Them boys and their toys
Girls and their swirls
(And Charley Parker
& Dean Moriarty)
No don’t go tellin’a me that-a!
If it never were began, it’s never ending
We’ll all get there
We’re all there
We’re all here
This, you see, is what’s known as
C a t a s t r o p h e!

worm/cut (in half)

October 4, 2010

yellow, crooked,
cracked pavement dimly
lit by a street lamp
and this one
stutters
and flashes
all night
along this dilapidated
street

drug dealers hide
in the craters
in the pavement
and growl like
dogs
and the shadows
cast from the
poor street lights
look like dogs

and here you are
crying because
you’ve lost it all
cheeks like
the surface of a
dying planet
recieving it’s last
vital rain clouds
before another ice
age

everywhere you look it’s
either her,
or death,
and in this part of town
the dogs don’t want your
meat
they smell no fear
you are just a worm

and she’s a gone,
so,
you squirm around
feeling wormy
wanting nothing and
living even when cut in half.

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