i’d tell you more
but i assure you
my words are being nearly
sucked dry by vocations
i choose not, but choose me.
and thus i’m left
like a used rag — used.
and tired.
my fingers too empty
for any further verbal
diarrhea.

i wrote this in the margin
of the notes i was taking for class
i meant it be poetic
but instead it came out crass

the prof was speaking of revelation
and i was writing of poo
the writing was slightly distracting
and i failed to think his words through

so i kept on writing of feces
while the prof droned on over details
my mind downstairs in the restroom
where i planned to unloaded my entrails

pillow soft.
but donut ring around beer
perhaps challenges
pillow soft
for place of love
in my heart

with stacks and rows of words
bound with glue in glorious
long-form i sit and study being
mocked by the fact i’m still told
what to consume when deliciousness
surrounds me like a child in a candy
shop i’m handed a carrot and told
to eat while gazing with longing
at peach rings and runts
my computer open before me
and books written by fools with their
heads in the clouds but academic
degrees they fancy while in the
company of hemmingway and salinger
i drool, for, like that child, i know not
how to ignore exactly what i know i’m
missing

every day in this magnificent place
and i put on my shoes and took them off
and ran much too far in the rain
but how can i turn around when the
cold spatters against my face
and i know you’re doing it for me
(as vain as that sounds)
but i must keep running and enjoying your
joy and wondering of those who miss it
and pushing farther and farther knowing
every step forward means one step back
and ignoring it for 50 minutes or so

i’ven’t a moment to reflect on the trees passing
by my window for merely keeping this thing on
the road is requiring all my focus. they’ve told
me the world at 300mph is fundamentally different
and i’m finding it’s even more complicated when
every moment the wheels, engine, or at least
air conditioning may give out due to lack of funds
for proper maintenance, and i know what passes
each moment is a travesty to have missed but the
finish line is in view, and if this thing can
hold it together just a little longer there’ll be
more than enough time to stop and smell the roses
for this thing will be put to rest. maintenance
no longer necessary as i’ll be mounting a two wheeled
man-powered beauty and cruising for the foreseeable
future

sometimes just to feel the life inside of me
i like to bust open the doors of the retirement home and
with my pants off i make a break for it in my chair
wheeling down the street in the snow i
slip and slide like a youth on drugs
except I’m old and on heart medication

but the wind is in my hair.

i pick up the phone and give it the old
english try

but there is something distinctly
un-english
about my bad english
my lack of manners
and general confusion about social
norms in the country i’m supposed to identify
with

because here the clouds nearly reflect the sunshine like the moon at night
the air is perfectly thin
and the grass,
the attitude
knowing why I left is not regretting.
but then, ignorance would be blissful

i wander these woods looking for a tree
to mock nature in revenge for the many
times it’s merely cried with me
when i needed to be cheered up.

on that late night walk home
(already melancholy from a rough
and lonely day) nature gave me silencing
snow
enveloping the world in beauty but
giving me ear muffs and sending the world
inside as if to say, “you’re lonely?
i can dig that knife deeper for you.”

but now my life overwhelmed with joy,
i need me a weeping willow to sit beneath
and laugh hysterically at it, rather than it
at me.

alas nature knows my intentions and gives
me nothing but sunshine, tulips, and fields
of green grass where i swear there were
woods last year.

i read today the writer’s juices flow
best in the morning.
i write at night.
hence the lack of quality emitting from
my fingers of late.

oh i smiles
sometimes you know
i smelly done good good
and never look back
the thing in my pants
i store it there
a brand i can depend on
holds it there
and i carry it around
i smiles you know
sometimes just so right right
take off, throw out now
and carry on.
makes me to smiles

the web is flooded with the need-to-know-now
and the more i know the less i’m valuable to
the world wanting to more about the news
so newsworthy it passes in five minutes notifying
me if i need to know i’d best not linger
or get up for a beer

real dry diapers are to keep
we reuse them because we’re cheap.
peepee diapers smell something funny
but 1 void of 2 is a waste of money.
poopy diapers are the best
they’re more potent than the rest.

a rhyme (at least) outta do
a simple one or maybe two.
for tonight i’ve nothing to write