This man cuts delicately
and with purpose

This man has an art to him
and a sight in his eyes

His is a gentle way,
but a righteous way,

but he loses track
sometimes

We have begun counting
his steps down the stairs

We have tallied his
transgressions

He has two ticks on the board,
but the first is smeared a bit

It has been up too long to
remember where it’s counted from.

He smiles mostly these days,
and grips the banister loosely

He cuts with purpose.
He stays mostly on track.

He has two ticks
nonetheless.

He is named Vincent. Maybe 80.
With a voice carved out of cigar smoke
And skin like the bottom of a couch.
He sounds like broken accordion, with hints of beauty
That are subtle. Always subtle.

Everyone looks younger when they’re sleeping
When pleasant dreams settle over daytime woes
Like sunshine drying rain-soaked grass
As heavy eyelids search for peace and flutter closed
And daily worries and their wrinkles fall away
Everyone looks younger when they’re sleeping
When darkness overcomes the fear of night
No child or man can run or hide
From that gentle dimming of the light
As the sky falls from rosy gold to dripping black
Everyone looks younger when they’re sleeping
But everyone looks older when they’re dead

kingdom shakers
fumble when they shake your hand
their mouths don’t work quite
right, nor their memories
and despite their high level of
education they keep copious
notes because of an accident
they had in a car riding off the
side of a mountain 15 years ago
(and incident they don’t recall
personally at all, only what they
‘ve been told)
which left them with a perpetual
at-best three months of memory
but yet they shake
the kingdom at its foundations
and to have stood in the same
room with these people
(let alone to shook hand with them,
or worshipped alongside of them)
never fails to humble me.

I met you
in the parking lot
between the county court
and the CVS Pharmacy

I did not buy your wares.

I did not look you in the eye.

Your coat was torn
but I did not offer you
mine.

I did not hear your sales
pitch or read your
convincing literature.

And now you’re off again
to find another buyer.

Good Luck.

It has been two years since I started burning the edges of my rope

In the impossible fear it may unwind

But I’ve only ever learned knots that are
Impossible to untie

sometimes we understand
sometimes we’re young
hearty and poop-pants full
sometimes we’re old with mossy feet,
lonely and lacking
sometimes we need someone to share rain drips with
sometimes we wait for things to make sense
sometimes we connect the dots or feel and see
that we’re unique but branded
that we’re neither dispossessed nor free
sometimes we’re full- we tolerate,we endure
sometimes we’re empty- we drain, we harm
sometimes we wonder if we’re good or good enough
if we’re alive or alive enough
doubts and insecurities afflict us
meadows and moonshines overwhelm us
we run,we hide
we wear different faces
we make excuses
we cut corners
sometimes we’re strong- we confront, we overcome
sometimes we’re blessed- we shine, we rise
we make decisions to occupy the hours
we build
we invite
we love
we suffer
we hold onto memories
we start all over
we forget
we think we choose
the roles we play
the rules we follow
the chances we betray
but when we finally realize
we’re not much of anything
to worry, to fuss so much
it’s already late
we’re out of time

Here, in room 2514, I light my bowl for the sun,

for the day,

for

my mind,

here in room 2514, I found my love,

my soul,

my sanity…

Before room 2514, before you,

there was nothing but blackness,

nothing but cynicism,

agony,

And even though I light my bowl, to escape,

to enlighten,

to expand,

I run to you.

In room 2514 I saw the sun rise,

for the first time,

in my 24 years,

for the first time,

in my existence,

there is light.

Today I
Wore the sun like a heavy wool on my
Long Island back
Remembering
That I am California childhood. mountain-painted, looking
like a seismograph chart and
bleeding grass blades between my toes
In any shoes that aren’t
bare feet. Feeling
the impossibly dense thickness of
Sunlight Bursting
Through my back and out my chest as I
Also radiate light, coming
through my fingertips

(and sometimes from them)

it used to be so funny

how I wanted to grow up

tall, dark, and handsome

surrounded by beautiful women and money

lighting cigars off the green backs

supplied by a playboy bunny

Now life passes me, us, by

and every truth ever told

has no value, doesnt sparkle like gold

lies were the truth to me,

its all I was ever told

they flowed like water from the nile

abundant as they were

they never really satiated us kids,

more,

 

Now its so hard to live without those lies,

covering up any insecurity, doubts, regrets

and everytime I see my memory

I laugh, and thank whoever it may be

that the lies set me up to fail

failure is hard, life is harder

but once you fall flat you can only look up, hope

thanks, mom, dad,

for such a wonderful life

some folks get all the attention
and some folks brew coffee
some folks go live on television at 9
some folks take out the trash at the tv station

some folks, they say, long to not be known
they sit in their cubicles, wait tables, laminate construction paper,
all for the greater good
and some, i hear, desire nothing more than a great name.
famous cubicle sitter, waitress extraordinaire, or THE construction paper laminator.

some folks get all the attention
but some folks just brew your coffee
or grow it
or produce the fecal matter with which your coffee is fertilized.

some folks get all the attention
but other folks have all the power

I pretend the pillow next to me still holds your shape.

I pretend that comfy mass is you, safely wrapping me up,

Enfolding me within you while I dream.

I pretend you still need me, or even want to

Need me. I pretend that you’ll wonder where

I am when we’re not together.

I pretend that all this is a joke,

And that whatever she says to you you spit

Back in her face.

I pretend I am different, that

I am not like all the others you’ve deserted only

So you can sulk in your corner, lonely

And bothered. I pretend

It doesn’t bother me when you act like I’m not

There. I pretend there’s

Still hope, when all there is is

Still-hope, stagnant.

I pretend you’ll come around

Soon enough, ready to take me in,

Drink me up with each kiss, each hand on my face.

I pretend these things are real,

And maybe, not just hopeless

Memories.

I can’t seem to feel my extem
ities as well as I once
had
but
that’s a matter of conj
ecture

For a moment I was fal
ling and for a moment I
was due to dro
p
and it was going to
hurt
I’m cert
ain

I was caught, though, la
st minute by the
belt by you and you said
you never were rea
lly letting
go

But for a mome
nt I
felt like I was
falling

For Kaitlin

You were
My moss picking monster angel
Ripping stagnation bed sheets out from under me
And starting forest fires in my nest hair
I spent three months awake because of you
When you gave me nets and told me to catch the moon
And I never did
But I drew constellations on your back
And for a while
That made us the first two astronauts to reach mars
And it was all ours
To make beauty of
And even though we both got dust underneath our nails
And on our palms
And staining ours clothes
We still etched designs into its surface until we covered the whole thing
And
You built wood around me until I was a treetop canopy
And you were birds soaring past my sky tall head
Bringing me back stories of the places you flew to
You beautiful winged monster angel
I should have known
You could have only stopped flying for so long
Because all of us dirt walkers
Don’t move as quickly as you
You never didn’t know where you were going
I’m convinced you’re at least half wind
And have a hard time believing
We exist in the same world
Kissing you
Always hinted at something impossible
And your easy laughter
Always echoed longer than I expected it to
You made me marathon legged
When I had built barriers to keep myself in bed
And though I came out of it all
Out of breath
Your laughter still plays the triangle sometimes
It sounds like a wink

You and I are made of different worlds entirely
And our brief collision
Was in no way any miracle
But there are days now
When I try on your laughter
And teach myself smiling as wide as you
And some day I expect to catch sight of you
Making sculptures out of clouds
And catching the moon

the cranes are still here but
the people have gone
and this place feels alone
but i still walk along

this crack-ridden sidewalk
deserted and grey
the prices were rising
then fell fast one day

and i run past these things with my eyes closed and music on blaring to drown out the silence of the people who left and left me here staying in a city of so many, but none of them living.

To Mckenna, Sean, and Audrey

I cover my whole face in shaving cream now
Not just the area underneath my lips and neck
Remember
When you used to beg me to shave
My awkward first facial hairs
I remember telling you those hairs meant
Soon I would be a man
On nights we named after ourselves
As we both tried to burn paper with our minds

I can hold my beer now
You would be proud to watch me play masculinity and
Other new games we used to talk about as if
They were world important deep secrets
We were burying inside each other in
Those early mornings we used to claim for ourselves
But
I sleep on my back now
And you don’t know that
And my late nights aren’t always claimed mornings
Sometimes they’re just lost evenings

And still
Even though I can reach the top shelf
With arms that have known now how to hold hammers
And women
Still
Though the stories we wrote once
On napkins in backyards
Are now etched in walls that I actually live in
Still
I can not man-make myself in the mirror
And suits still fit me like
A scarecrow on a city bus
And I never button the top of any shirts
In an actual fear that I will choke
So
I don’t think I’m jumping into the brunt of my 20s with my head on straight
Because I still try to knock over cups with my mind
And sometimes
Get scarred at night

I just want to remind you
And myself as well
How unimportant it is, at least right now

Because there were nights
When we really wanted to
That I swear
We could make fire in our hands

Ten dollar gas can
Three dollar gas
Two block stroll
there, two block
back again

open door, uncap
stick in snoot
pour through the
long pause

 

 

 

 

 

 

remove, recap,
can in trunk
turn over once
sputter to death
turn over once
more
sputter to life

brake, shift
park neutral drive
gas, drive
and home and
sleep,

I suppose.

Always walk 

On the right side of the street
And on the left side of a woman 

You walk on the left side of a woman
Because 

In the case that 

Water splashes on you

It will splash on you
And not on her

You walk on the right side of the street

Because it makes you feel safe 

The left side of the street
Makes you innately uneasy 

And you can’t explain that

You are 

Innately uneasy


If you had the time

To rest your legs 

You would cut them off
Wouldn’t you 

If you had the time 

To soak your feet
You would drown them 

Wouldn’t you


If you had the time 

If you had the time 

If you had the time you would connect a helium tank
To your belly button
And expand or explode or inflate 

And any of those would be a okay 

Wouldn’t they


If you could be glass
You would not be blown 

You would be lightening on sand
Crack and shattered as essence
If you were a train 

You would be derailed
But you would not stop 

Only faster and faster
Crushing bushes and whole towns under your wheels
And you could not stop
Could you
And if you could, you would not 

Wouldn’t you


And if you 

Could blink more times per minutes
Or rub your eyes with more ferocity 

The things you imagine

Would be more in focus
Than the things that are actually there
And in fact 

You confuse those often

Stop blinking your own existence into alternates
Stop listing the universes in which you live
You are singular
And if you are not you still appear (at most times)
To embody something
Here
So embody that fully
Please
Stop blank staring windows into static
And pretending magic finger tips during long silences
At least long enough to remember
You
Exist here
And have responsibilities to that end

Remember
There are people outside your own doorsafe
Take a moment to feel the hardwood against your feet
Exist here
Speak to them

even if a man stands as an island

the movements of the sea still shape his shores

and even if we shoo away the raven

we’ll still hear from the rooftops, “nevermore”

so turn not your face from summer’s light

do not fear the warming rays of sun

force no smile from your eyes

for no one is truly ever one

every heart beats in rhythm with each other

the trees and the rocks each hum along

the falcons and the sparrows fly the same skies

with nature’s voice we all can sing along