I feel as though I’m listing
I’m sure I must seem that way
out of sorts and all
paper hat on my head
nothing written on my hands
no company to remember me
but here I am, listing
and I’ll list my way back out to sea

a tree rustles
as sunlight and wind move through:
a wasp on my forearm.

all feeling left like falling rain
you’re in my bed i can’t complain
the thoughts in head i can’t explain
i want you here for me to drain
i want you here to cause some pain
and light the fire with the flame
you hand me dice to play a game
i’m bad at keeping myself trained
it is ingrained, i go insane
your car is still parked outside.

I disregard the sunlight on most occasions

I hope for my sake I am not a fool,
yet I persist to act foolish

These are not wounds,
simply unplugged outlets.

Let the children watch, so just maybe,
they can learn something.

I called up all my family
I called up all my friends to see
if all the little animals had
really taken off tonight
and much to my surprise, it seemed
that every cirtter inside three
square miels had grown wings
and taken flight

Well I’ve never been a betting man
and never made much money hoping
other people’s words were untrue
but I have made out to gamble some
and you can bet I’m probably done
‘cuz pigs were surely flying
after I made that bet with you

standing more on the pads of my feet
and leaning slightly backwards to improve
my posture as i complete my sweaty run
all but barefoot and walk back into my
house feeling bigger than samson richer
than jobs and sexier than, well, my normal me
today i press the wife.

“what woulds’t thou have me to conquer?”

for i’m empowered right now to take on the
world. but your coffee? you want it ground?

conquered.

I feel so under
qualified some
times when I con
sider all the lit
tle things comp
letely wrong wi
th everything but
I must rimain st
alwart at preten
ding that I’m just
as qualified as
the next ave
rage joe who cer
tainly will weigh
their two cents in
as deep as it
will rest, and it
will rest, so rest
assured you’re
not the only one
protecting this old
wishing well. Just
try not to let
your back be
turned too of
ten

I can not tell
weather the man in the stained wife beater
and the 25 dollar sunglasses is
reading the plaque at the bottom of that fountain
or considering his entire existence at
7:45 on a Friday night in the small-business
district of a little big city’s downtown.

Perhaps he wonders where he’ll be in ten years,
when the retro furniture boutique and the
mid-city semi-exclusive jazz club will most likely be gone,

Or maybe he ponders where the time went,
he with two kids and a regular job doing
odd sorts of labor for a landscaping outfit.

He could even be counting down the days
before he finally catches up on back child support
and can relish in the full-sized checks he’s
been denied for so long.

Or,
he’s wondering what comes after
‘Dedicated in memory…’
on the worn-down part
of the fountain base

…I’m certainly not going to ask him.

Let my snotty rags left everywhere
(even in mid-summer) stand
as sufficient retribution against the
OBnoXious taptaptapping
your knee makes as it hits the bottom
of your work desk.

Let it go without saying, and perfectly
understood, that you
won’t tell me to pick them up,
and I won’t cut your leg off
at the fucking thigh

in patiently awaiting my new home i’ve discovered something like yoga. i call it misery.
take three and call me in a few weeks. if that doesn’t work. take more. overdosing leads to extreme misery, and then small amounts of joy followed by a positive life change.
it’s hard to plead the grass is greener
when there is no grass.
but then again… on the other side….

tired nights of manic thoughts
cut my rope with the knife i bought
fill the silence with perpetual talk
got my bed all lined in chalk
stupid feelings may come or not
i don’t care and it wont stop
4 am songs
my nerves rot

after sitting
for hours on end,
drinking,
hoping,
wanting to feel,
hoping to forget,
and finally,
with a little scotch ice,
the chill sets in,
and i’m good to go.

because mine’s not,
and at least one of us
needs to think good
and to be able to
open their eyes,
despite the harsh fluorescence,
and the bright computer screens,
and the dull pain
just behind the right eye
and the feeling that all i want to do
is close the door
and lay down on the cool,
rough office carpet
and sleep

but for now i’ll settle
to rest my eyes
as i type,
hoping that no bosses walk by.