I suppose that I’m cut out for
crowd control
being bigger, on my
own, than most of the
crowds that I’ve encountered
but I’ve never been cut out for
crowd controlling,
seeing as I
may be huge, but I’d
rather see the crowd do
their own thing
…but it does pay well
your faCe in the
throws
of magical attic Rooms
we hid from A
vue
hoPping things might
turn out better than the
flopPing crawling sniffling
you turned out to be
a big dissapointment to most
who knew You
so puh lease return from whence
you came from the pull down
ladder steps up to the hidden third
floor where moth and rust live on FOREVER
How many times
Can I admire out the same window
At scene I’ve seen
So many times before
And appreciate the view unchanging
But always changing
With the seasons
With the time of day
With the weather
With every minute that wind zips
Through thick layers of leaves
Tethered only by wavering stems
Or tugs a crinkling candy wrapper
Along the gum stained curb
And still find beauty
Amidst the mundane
And unacknowledged
lightening strikes silently
composing sentences in morse code
thunderously punctuated
by atmospheric explosions
and i awake
to you
holding me close
and rain
falling into the lake
outside our window.
questions
raise things
other than answers
and answering
with more questions
is
rude(ruder)uder-ude
whatever they say
the wailing may be over
but the weeping has only begun,
and the only thought that comes
in the early morning hours
and late into the night
is that she’s gone
and won’t be coming back,
no matter what anyone wants
because this is what she wanted.
when everything
piled together
becomes too much,
what is there to do
but to lock up one’s feelings,
to lock up one’s thoughts,
to do away with one’s humanity
and become something hard
that can’t feel the pain
of a lost love,
of a lost child,
of a lost friend,
gone for good,
for no good reason.
life just ain’t what it used to be
when your beer gets cold
cars move a little too slow
and you can’t run worth beans
when your beer gets cold
your brats lose their flavor
your wallet feels light and empty
your friends all blame you for their farts
when your beer gets cold gets cold gets cold
when your beer
gets cold
gets cold
Oh God
there are bodies
everywhere
but so far as
I can tell,
most of them
are breathing
I suppose that’s
the difference
between bodies
and people.
Oh God
there are people
everywhere.
when i first saw them,
all i could see was him
sitting quietly,
defeated and in shock,
surrounded by those he loved
and who loved him best,
but utterly alone,
lost in his own thoughts
and dark memories.
no one had anything to say,
except for “i love you,”
whispered in a hug
or with a brief touch,
trying not to break
the silence that we all knew
would soon be broken in shouts
of painfrustrationdisbeliefanger,
as the realization washed over us all
staining our minds and memories
to match the blood covering his hands.
I’ve gotten sort of hung up
on this vessel kind of thing
you know?
Drinking vessels, sailing vessels
and even vessels for the immortal
Soul
And I’m very fond of
rhetoric, but not so much
Hyperbole
and though they can be
similar, they are not
necessarily
The Same
horror is not a too-white kid in a hallway
nor a man outside your bathtub with a knife
no
true horror comes
in stores of grocer
on shelves
empty of donuts
Even after one two many
no-one ever wants to
stretch out
head ’round back
and fight me.
Pussies.
they wrapped it up and stuffed my insides like a burrito
layering tortillas then chicken
(dark meat)
and pounds of black beans
before the barbecue sauce around my midsection
topping it off with cool silantro
(you can never have too much)
they layered in some sour cream before my esophogas then reached down
(below my belt)
and pulled the tortilla up around my ears then back down again and i
would be a lot more comfortable
if you’d unwrap my foil shell
and devour me
So if life isn’t a race then
Why is everyone running?
your skin feels softer in shadows
and
your words pulsate with
syrupy significance
and
your touches
electrify me
until i’m wide awake
in the middle of the night
wondering at the creation
of such a being as you.
i could prose your love but
sexier i would find it shoulds’t it be versed
instead
Dirt and other
certain types
of sedatives
surround us
as we
contemplate the simple joys
of being above ground
And of laying on it
cock-sure that we’d
never have to contemplate
the horror of a world contained
within a cramped, yet
relatively roomy pinewood box
For all eternity.
beer completes the
perfect atmosphere warped
large moon while driving
home filled night
heart pounding
breath burning,
running through the pain
running through the frustration,
finding peace on the other side,
after getting my heart started again.
the sieve and the sand 
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