i want to hide,
crouched behind doors,
cars, walls, trees,
waiting for the perfect chance
to jump up and shout,
scaring out the bejesus,
from deep inside you,
doing whatever it takes
to move things along.

rubbing my nose in
photos of endless mountains,
greenest pine trees, purple lakes,
cloudless blue skies, and old friends
reminding me

i’m living my life for the next
mine may now satisfy
but it’s ugly as hell

The measure of a man is immeasurable,
as it is the measure of his measure of
when to say ‘I ought to put some away’
and when to say ‘It’s only money.’

these cobble stones
underneath all their glory
began as mere bricks
flat and unloved
by tires and horseshoes

slowly over time
they were worn down
into something beautiful
despite gaps and bumps
weeds throughout

they began as mere bricks
flat and unloved

I wish there were a breathless maw
that I could clamor in to.
And with closed eyes and
thoughtful resignation I
could lay within the
belly of that beast.

I would liquefy and
digest, ending floating,
just the way I started
all those long years ago.
The aftermath would yield
my undoing as my self
was fully absorbed in to
my new something else.

This is for the rest of you.
For without that maw
to completely devour me,
I will have no way to change.
I have not found the beast.
Nor have I found a reason.

A soft breeze blows by an
old sales receipt. Coupons
on the back and complicated
jabber on the front, I’d wager.

It pulls the whole place into
perspective: Seedy men and
women wandering just behind
the seedless building fronts,
through back-alleys no-one
remembers and sharp turns
no-one takes for fear of
drowning.

I won’t pick up that sales
receipt, or walk through
any alleys, though. I won’t
be taking stunt-jumps at
an icy river’s crossing.

I will walk inside a shop
and throw my money
down. I will shout for
all the things I’d like
and receive only some
of the things I do
need. I’ll call for blood
and be denied, again
being forced out to
wander like just another
sales receipt

The truth is, I’ve nothing left to atone.
But it has very little to do with me,
And everything to do with a man named Jesus.
So I admit, I’m guilty on all counts,
And the penalty is death.
But don’t be so quick to condemn.
He’s absolved me of all crimes,
Taking the punishment for himself.
And I confess, I’ve never known such love.

Today,
I slid down an icy hill
in a van, with two
bald tires.

In that instant I
considered,
for just an instant,
the metaphor therein.

And then,
I thought of all those
people that I know,
you know?

Only come home once
in a great long while.
Though I suppose we
always
(always?)
(Always.)
have that common ground
to stand on,
Or slide down.

fried
at least
my mind
once crisp
delicious
now stale
soggy
not worthy
of your last
ketchup
packet

i sit here; you sit there
or perhaps we switch.
it matters not to this game we play
in which both recede,
towards the inside,
twiddling our thumbs,
touching our lips,
not speaking because there’s nothing to say
being both together
and so far away.

you said
free
we praised you
but begged you’d
let us keep our chains

It’s that sinking
feeling
when you see someone you know
and your heart just hits your stomach
and you damn trip all over yourself
scurrying to reach them
and it’s
not quite the them
you thought it was.

That same sinking
feeling
when I ventured just to touch you
and you weren’t really there after all.
Instead, you were precisely half
a world away and staying there.

I don’t see you
I don’t feel you
I can’t touch you
but there’s that sinking
feeling
to remind me you
were there.

i chose you

i knew
the sacrifice
i would not settle
you did not disappoint

sometimes i forget
the choice
but i never
(even for a moment)
wish i’d chosen
otherwise

i wouldn’t give you up
for the world.

i say ‘airplane’
and you plant your chest
on my feet
flying and smiling
and giggling whispering
“again”

and i know it was all more than
worth it.

love shattered
(always hurts worse the first time)
followed by friendship
you pried from my fingers
and i’m thinking

this happens to chicks
but we’re dudes dude
and you pry and pry

“i don’t like you, nobody likes you”
chicks say that
but we’re dudes dude

but brilliance calls
(right on cue as murphy would have it)
i moved to the country side
of hongkong

saw slaves. met gangs
killers, dealers, and smugglers
the worst of the bad missing
limbs life and hips

achen
born into a family of millionaires
you squandered every penny
on heroin and more
losing family, heart, and then
your mind

akau
leaving wife you finally broke down
‘i’ll see you in four years when
if i’m healthy enough some day to
truly love you’
though we could not share words
we shared tears

i shook hands and shared bathrooms
with killer after killer
and silence endured
i could say hello.

till i broke
really simply wordlessly
tearfully broke
longing for a hug from anyone
from a murderer? not so lucky

that end of wits where there is only
*shudder* for strength alludes you

and

as if noticing for the first time
the fallibility of man
i cried out “he should have been
there for me” but he wasn’t

and that was my friend

since then i’ve never been attached
at the hip.

in teaching me what love is not
you taught me how to love

words stumble and fall
out of my mouth like
spit after anesthesia

old man winter’s gray
song drunkenly serenades
the inside of my cave

these damn apes are
invading and i must resort
to guerrilla warfare

i see their ships marching
through the bay like
ants to watermelon

dog shit on the bottom
of my shoe — surrender
in the pit of my stomach

tomorrow’s daybreak may
reveal thousands more,
armed to the goddamned teeth