poetry

the cheapness

poetry

I love things that can be bought with change
gas station drinks being included within that range,
which though they may not taste right or be very good for you
there isn’t very much that you can do
because for something costing less than a dollar,
you’ll just about always drink it without making much of a holler.

the fulfillment of dreams

poetry

I thought I wanted this;
I have been working toward this;
but now I stand on the cusp
of finally starting a “real” job,
and all I feel is ambivalence and fear
seeing the future stretching
indefintely out before me
into the obscured distance.
Mixed with the uncertainty
is excitement as to what might happen,
but along with the excitement
is the knowledge that
I may not like the future and that
the only constant is death.
And so from this cusp,
my only responce is paralysis,
in the contemplation of
the unknown preceding death.

sest law vee

poetry

life was simpler then
more innocent than most ladybugs
almost as cute

i bought cereal because the box was interesting
picked ice-cream for color, not flavor
chased girls but genuinely feared catching them

life was easier then
and nights were longer

ah. to be again
21

in want of a rupture

poetry

we can hold hands and try not to stumble
against the strong wind
we might hang onto electric poles
and dream a light beyond our lips and fingertips
but the sunset approaches, and
we cannot not last in the dark.
Daylight is all we have,
my jacket and your heart are full of holes
our coins can afford us a one way bus trip to
the flat city where the future calls.
my darling one, how many more shades of pain
must we wear before allowing ourselves to drift away
from one another and shrivel in secret?

Never A Dull Moment

poetry

Never a dull moment in my life

Shielding my eyes from dust storms

Watching the stock cars spin out

Hoping they won’t crash and burn.

Never a dull moment in my life

Off the highway we drove home

At least until we ran out of gasoline

And pushed our car all the way home

full or fullest=False

poetry

I need another version of the “live life to the fullest” phrase ,
I need it now, a quick word injection thundering through my vein
and spiraling me away from right now where full isn’t what is cracked up to be,
and fullest is a sharply pricking thorn.

in america we make fun of people’s futures, pants.

poetry

daily he
looks to the horizon
girds his knickers
runs through the night

often i
think of the future
gird my thoughts
stop dead in my tracks

daily he
awakens to find he’s run to far
cannot return to where he came
so
he girds his knickers
runs

often i
awaken to find i’ve gone nowhere
but cannot return to
who i was

i gird my knickers
up
(higher than i should)
sprint into oblivion

where i find
people call them pants.

Learning

poetry

Slow as Slo is to learn,

To have a mom is love he learns.

To be her son is his wish.

To feed from her and not his dish.

Slow as Slo is to learn,

Desire to know the world he yearns.

They both wish for attention.

Lovestrong air holding them in suspension.

hair against skin

poetry

there’s moments in music
when the drums tread increasingly upon the silence
(as if walking up stairs)
only to stop—suddenly—sensing your thoughts—

returning—wildly—crashing—
with the strings and the horns
desperately trying to hold the world together
by a single measure

and there’s moments in life
when your hair brushes my skin
(as a bird along the water’s surface)
only to stop—suddenly—sensing my thoughts—

and

continuing—gently—gliding—
so i can feel each strand reach
trying to hold us together
by a single moment.