“I swear I’m ver-y
flattered that you asked me
to inspire you to
‘poetic heights’
or some similar
stupid state-of-mind”

Is what was said
in not so many words.
and perhaps, the
general meaning was
expounded upon,
just enough to
fancy up the
writer. Or,
that is to say,
he didn’t flatter
anyone, at least
no one today.

But the truth
as he’d imagine
is the inspire-r in question
was in fact
taken aback
and only had one
thought in mind:

“Suck
My
Wheaties”

though the true meaning
of that meaning, one
simply can’t begin to fathom

This isn’t what you wanted
But you drank yourself to sleep
Overdosing on apprehension
And I’d like to say I’m choking
But there’s liquid gently coursing
Through my suffocating lungs
I followed you into the depths
And mark my words
This place
keeps get
ting sm
all
er
.

You may feel that you
certainly deserve the chance
to prod and berate
(and you do)
just for all the little
things and all the terrible
little things

Though, as you poke
and prod away I
feel that I should
certainly remind
(Or perhaps, simply
educate) you:

No matter how hard you
force your point across
Great White Sharks
do not believe in Karma

They say
Wisdom comes with age
But I find that hard to believe
And have yet to see its fruits.
The older I get
The more there is to know
And the less I care to know it.
At four I had life in the bag.
Said bag was a red handkerchief
Fastened around a stick
And slung over my shoulder
Like Tom Sawyer.
Its contents a PBJ
And a pocket knife.
The more enlightened I become
I realize the more stupid I am.
If there’s one thing
I’ve discovered with age
It’s that I’d much rather be a child
Clambering to the top of a hill
In gleeful ignorance
Than digging a hole
In melancholy cognition
Proclaiming that I’m an adult.

I’ve never heard the words
that you’ve been spouting in this
fashion, and although I feel your
passion, I can only point and laugh
not quite at you, but certainly in your
direction

lines in the sidewalk give the blind
direct through their shoes providing
bumps which lead forward to more
bumps giving a rhythm to the voices
in my head

remind me of better times
where words were my best expression
before i found you

i warn you thus
never pursue the One i found unless you’re willing to (forever forsake) your muse
for once found
your joy will take your sorrowful words away

into the ether your pen writes
happy line after happy line
and the only thing you’ve left to lament
is the loss of your lamentation

‘Only one word
describes
chocolate this
creamy, this
rich, this
bliss’, and I
know this,
because the
TeeVee
Told me

i’ve not got the gut of a drunk
or the throat,
taste,
will,
but i got the need

and
come to think of it…
i’ve not got much at all
but i got a little of
alot
so i s’pose that counts
as alot (and yes,
i’m one of those who
believes that alot should
be a word)
but in today’s world,
you need alot of alot
and alot of luck
but you don’t really
need to be good,
or be good at any of it
you just need to have
done it and have alot
of it,
or alot of rich friends
hell…
i s’pose
that’s only if you want
money, though
and
again,
though
you’d all like to argue
and everyone would like to argue
that life is not about money
and act like i can’t see them
standing on the corner
next to a pimp named “society”
doing whatever,
for cash

and i s’pose if i’m a failure at art
and a failure at cash
and a failure at love
‘cuz i can’t make it last
and a failure at words
‘cuz i can’t get them across
and a failure to myself
‘cuz i don’t act my thoughts
then the best i can do is smile
🙂

because if you wake me just one more time
to rub your legs to keep you from whining

know that you should not tell me what to do
or i’ll do it

and as my thumb grips your ankle and
my fingers your calf
though i’m seething inside
you’ll finally be quiet
and i’ll get that sleep we once knew
before you me knew me and i knew you

(and children were the natural awkward
physiological scientific result of
said knowing)

yea like back then

Fermented summer
wafting through a bedroom
window, screaming for
action, garnering
disinterest as two
half-grown humans
make a bigger mess
of the already-dirty
sheets

The threshold of another
Month rolls out on the
Steamy carpet of summer
Hot and humid
Thought not unbearably hot
And the humidity’s tolerable
Or maybe I haven’t been
Paying attention as the stage
Is filled by more important
Matters than my day to day
Griping about how
Hot or humid it is
Or that summers already
Going by way too fast
But I’m too delighted to notice
Because suddenly
And I’m feeling more appreciative
Of the hot and humid
Cause I’ll remember
All my profuse sweating
When I want to complain
About how cold and dry
It is once December’s here
And the months will have
Went by before I even realized it
So I’m going to enjoy
The tomatoes growing
In my shoddy garden and
Pretend I’m basking in a sauna
When I gasp and clutch for air
In a car that’s been
Out in the sun all afternoon
So yeah the air might be
Both hot and humid
And about 120 degrees,
In that oven I call a vehicle
But whether or not I notice
It all at the moment, there are
Some great things in the works.
Can’t wait to see them happen

oh you’ve got such a
pretty shell
and if you’ve got to go
for you,
they’ve got
a pretty hell
where they stuff you in boxes
…but not too tight
where they close you in for
eternity
but you’ve got a light
you can turn it on
and off
and on
and off
with your pretty friends
each with a pretty face
and all of their dumb ideas
in such a cramped space
because,
you see
there are millions of us here
there are billions of us here
and some of them look as pretty
as you,
so when i give you a note,
and you do not return it
and you turn up your nose
because you think i’m a hermit
just know that
your skin will fall off your
bones when you die just like
everyone else and i only
wanted you because you
make me really,
really,
really hard.