soul-searching
best left to the
not-so-faint of
heart, I think.

The question, though, remains:
how to test the faintness
of one’s heart without
a little bit of
soul-searching

why i can smell it on your teeth
and in the next words you’ll say
i can smell it like a machine in
a fairy tale
sniffing out the bad plot lines-
when i am at night
getting ready to sleep
and it’s just me
and my mind
and the darkness-
i smell it too.
i am caught between
a rock and an anxious mess,
and i smell it on both.

given the recent turn for the better
in the lottery
i’ll try my hand at death soon

When my hamster died
I knelt down
Clutching him between
Trembling fingers
As his soft body
Cooled and stiffened
To hardening knobs
That felt like a
Handful of rocks
He dissipated
To lifelessness
No matter how hard
I cried and
Tried to hold on

And raindrops sing
a lullaby
I only find disjointing,
so close the window tight,
and one more thing:
Goodnight.

It all came
from my saxophone
but
none of it was me

Though I must admit
that some of it
was the best
I’d ever played

Of course,
I’m also glad
to take the credit

when the entire
part
worth remembering
hurts
this bad, I
know
it’s worth
remembering.

I forgot to remember
All the while knowing
That I would forget by morning
And go figure, sure enough
I did, and no amount
Of brain racking helped
To alleviate the exasperation
Because I simply couldn’t
Remember what I knew
I’d forget but remembered
Thinking in the first place