It’s a damn shame
that we have to talk like this
But any talk is good talk
even if we rely on
jovial banter to
pretend we don’t know
anything about anything.

It’s hard to deal with.
I know it’s hard to deal with.

So Shut your window
Draw your blinds
And pretend I never said
Anything.

reading through old poetry
to revive old memories or at least to remember
there are more colors out there than red

more feelings than blissful indifference?

finding less heart than i remember feeling
purples less bright than the reds i recall
memories more dull than the grays implied

Experience dripping?

Hot bath water down a suddenly chilled back
Cold rain from the tip of a nose to the top of a chin
Icemelt from a fading stalactite

Sweat from one’s being
Blood from one’s teeth
Tears from one’s burning eyes

A symbol of Completion.

The winter freezes tight, then it melts away
The last of the bath from a fresh, clean skin
The soul drips from our pens and our words and our songs and our swords
And I can only hope
I’ve a big enough bucket

to catch it.

He’ll stop every time and
hold the door while you
carry in your groceries.

And you’ll smile
and he’ll smile
and you’ll have a short chat
about the weather,
which neither of you know anything
about
but both of you have
a pretty good idea
that it’s not going to
be so great this week.

And you’ll laugh
and he’ll laugh
and you’ll go your separate ways,
Reluctantly, he
Necessarily, you

And he’ll just wish you wern’t a good Christian woman,
so he wouldn’t feel so bad about
feeling so badly about you

death is a mere word
describing all things and none
synonym for birth

Lo! experience death
in life and I truly know
I am live and dead

so i stood there
at first i was a young child with spaceships in my head, then an old man, then a beggar counting his change, then a wealthy man with continents for fingertips, then a woman with tattooed hands, and then i was charles fucking bukowski! and so many other things until i couldn’t keep track any longer
i was kept just out of focus

as the beautiful world around me was all sharp pink and vivid blues and luscious purples and bright yellows
all we had ever known, most beautiful place in the whole damn place
right outside the gates of fairytale castle
and i had known, and knew, and was experiencing, that it was slowly dying

the magnificent colors got duller the more your eyes would travel towards the castles shiny exterior, now something just below shiny
and once your eyes got right in the middle, right in the heart, right in the goddamned eyes of the thing you could clearly tell that it was going black and white
all the carebears and unicorns and leprechauns would soon start to lose their magical powers
some of the leprechauns would commit suicide, others adultery, others would become irish
unicorns losing their horns
carebears who stopped caring became just bears
starting eating the humans

not that there’d be much news to that now, see, because i decided to go inside of the fairytale castle
not just to look around
not just to see
but i went in and i set it upon myself to see just what the damn place was made of
just what made it tick
and i came to an unassuming room that said:

“DO NOT ENTER”

the whole place was magnificent otherwise
more beautiful than fairytale land, mind you, which i reside, and is the most beautiful place anyone had ever seen
this castle, the head castle, the main artery of fairytale land was the most beautiful place in it, for good reason, with good measure, and other things that are positive
and i had decided, i had picked the lock, and i watched in horror

they had been feeding the sick and poor to an evil monster that was hooked up to some vile machine which, after seeing, i understood was keeping the whole facade up
and i sat there, split into quite a few different pieces outside of fairytale castle, watching the color drain from the world and everything that could ever be good with it
having removed the machine and letting the vile beast go i sat wishing with every one of me that i’d never been to this damned castle and knowing at the same time with at least one of me that it’s what i was made for.

At a glance
there’s nothing to
write home about
but we’ll write anyway
and see what seeds are sown
perhaps we’ll find something has
grown
perhaps we’ll find a reason not
to dig the bugger up

But it’d look so nice
next to that vase
of Flowers

Gingerly dear friends!
Let us wander with the masses
and just try to settle in
while this little issue passes

Or get your gun
and wander out
just far enough
to take a shot

And gingerly, dear friends
show the bastards what you’ve got

This is the last time
that they’ll let this
bullshit fly

No more
second chances
mulligans
re-negs

so make sure that
it counts for
something.

Something.

Pushing back the night
les petits morts de l’hiver
small missives of birth.

for there are times when
one language wont suffice for the things
we try to funnel from our brains
down and out our mouths
so we settle for adding another medium
perhaps words on the page – screen
might suffice for the

gaps we put in our thoughts
and then it hits us

three more words for the word thought
might suffice for this here thought