Mexican beer
on hot days
like today
puts Hemingway
above Byron,
but only by
the skin
of a lime.
Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 3:17 AM UTC
there are cobwebs above
my bed,
and not in a metaphorical
sense
I’m staring up at them
and they mean something
really
or they should
I should care
and I do
but my head is
half buzzed
and four a.m. is
a couple of
blinks away and
well
the walls are the right shade
of clay
like the word Arizona
and the crickets are trilling
songs
on violin spurs
as the ceiling slips away
and my eyes are heavy with
desert
and the cobwebs
endure
another poem
Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 3:16 AM UTC
it’s been a while
but now I remember how
the keys feel
like a trigger
and I’m Clint Eastwood
in the basement of a mansion .
no, nevermind
Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 5:01 PM UTC
I'm glad you died
By the train tracks
In Mexico, alone
With the lizards and
Horned toads
When you did,
When the mood
Was High and
The momentum
Rolled in your favor,
I'm glad you died
When you did
Before rock n' roll again
And again and disco
And no Jazz, no bop
And waves crashed
And undertoe tore at Tired,
I'm glad you died
When you did
With movement, with power
And you should hear 'em
Talk about you and the boys
With ancient lips and Beautiful
I'm glad you died
When you did
Before it all changed
And They took away
Want and replaced it
With electronic death
Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 5:00 PM UTC
Truth is what we tell the air when we
are alone
Anyone that's ever been alive share
these holy atoms
Love is their vibration
Let your molecules accept the
movement
Vibrate and hum holy
Hum hum hum until the day breaks,
and then try a little harder tomorrow
Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 4:12 AM UTC
We're too afraid of being caught
To truly go insane with love
Our eyes are transmitters of love
But somewhere along the way,
the mirror stole the show
Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 3:44 AM UTC
Humanity is rarely required of us,
but is necessary for survival
We are our own death in retrospect
Talk to yourself through the voice of
another
And dream your life in real time
Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 3:43 AM UTC
I keep trying
to finish my
beer but
Miles is playing
Homs with Damascus
on deck like
Green in Blue in
Bashar
and the conservatives,
that is, the Muslim ones
or rather
the extremist ones
that is, ****
there’s good people
dying to a machine gun
bass line
‘dada doo da’
‘dada doo da’
and they all want
the guy gone
but we’re just playing
White Christmas on repeat
trying to drown out
the bass line
but it keeps bumpin’
‘dada doo da’
‘dada doo da’
so I finally take a sip
but it’s sour and
flat and the bass line
is bumpin’ my elbows
and pulling’ at my chest
‘dada doo da’
‘dada doo da’
with a C-4 concerto
that makes Bach
seem irrelevant
and Mozart a spoiled
brat, my god
it’s a sink-hole in
Dm, the last one
on the album that
makes you think,
“Why did they let
this happen?”
‘Dada doo da’
‘Dada doo da’
Oh boy!
It’s enough to really
hang your hat on,
but that’s for another
generation to wonder,
Me-
I’ve got this beer to
finish and the record
keeps skipping
‘dada doo da’
‘dada doo da’
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 5:28 PM UTC
I was in
a relationship,
now I'm not
(insert poem)
The End
Nov 21, 2014
Nov 21, 2014 at 9:52 AM UTC
Drunken couch corners
feet up head back
late night slow jazz playing
****** ****** ******
give me more give me that
sound
I need that sound
like the sky needs blue
Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 2:18 AM UTC