I ain't ever told a lie
Except that one, I swear.
I wouldn't dare
I only lie because it's fair.
You have me backed into a corner
So I react with proper flair.
In this moment, I ******* hate you
There's another lie right there.
Sep 2, 2020
Sep 2, 2020 at 3:39 PM UTC
We sat on the front porch
Musing about how the stoop should be two steps higher
And that the concrete is actually comfortable
To lay down on.
Each drag of my overpriced cigarette
Scorched my throat
And I've felt like there's a sunburn on my tonsils
For three months now.
You talked easily and matter-of-factly about our future
while I watched your soft, chubby belly fold
Over your shorts and swell
Matching your breath and measured speech.
You commented that the weather was finally pleasant
But I still felt the sticky humidity on my skin
Heavy like your paranoia
Heavy like your anger
The universe had blessed me with this conversation tonight
But the sun always rises, and it will burn me again
Soon enough.
Oct 23, 2019
Oct 23, 2019 at 9:52 AM UTC
I sit in a burgundy leather chair at work
Hoping that I don't get fired.
But I tried downloading an unauthorized program onto my computer
And a pop-up with the word ********
Flashed across the screen when I went to check the baseball scores.
Maybe I will forsake this whole ******** life
And run off into a hermitage
Heaping ashes on myself, prostrated before a cheap wax statue.
But on some level what I'm really doing
Is avoiding responsibility.
I'm dreading the drive home, to be honest
Because I know you will greet me with that fiery anger
That paradoxically gives me an ********
But also breaks my heart.
Maybe I can just walk in the door
***** preemptively sealed in a yellowed Mason jar,
And say,
"Just stay right where you are, Steve."
"We don't want any trouble..."
Oct 8, 2019
Oct 8, 2019 at 4:54 PM UTC
When I was still a young, doughy-eyed kid
Full of wonder
I learned how to properly swing a baseball bat
At a prestigious university baseball camp.
Your front toe, which was my left,
Is to be turned slightly inward,
With the bat flat against your shoulder.
Elbows are ALWAYS down.
A team of overpaid sport scientists determined that this
Shortens the swing significantly and decreases reaction time.
But what this fails to do
Is teach someone how to make that sick, wet, visceral bat-to-ball connection,
Or how to find that sweet spot
Where the ball seems like it's been launched
From a medieval catapult.
And it also, most importantly, doesn't teach you
How to get the **** out of the way
When the pitcher maliciously throws the ball
Directly at your teeth.
That, my dear, is pure instinct.
Sep 6, 2019
Sep 6, 2019 at 11:58 AM UTC
This is too much.
Surely, I did something
To deserve things as such.
A lazy, glassy-eyed ****
You haven't kissed me open-mouth
In well over 15 months.
The good guy routine
Well, it isn't a routine...
But I artfully mask my anger with
******* at night
And in the mornings caffeine.
I imagine
That when you look at me
I'm less man than machine.
But knowing me,
I'll continue to flog myself
For these crimes I haven't committed.
And maybe one day the gavel will fall
And I'll finally be ever-acquitted.
May 17, 2019
May 17, 2019 at 10:36 AM UTC
"Billie Jean is not my lover."
But she tells me differently
In private.
Now, however, there's a baby
Carrying her impulsive libido
Inside of it.
A matryoshka of folly
Long nights of Texas ***** and blow
Multiple partners, that's fine, just tell me!
But please let your other suitors know
That you aren't the only one
Carrying their load.
My heart sunk, believe me,
When I drove over to your house.
And it pained me to see
Your face, for the first time,
Unable to make an expression.
One, two, three vicodin
Four, five, six at a time
Seven concluded your session.
I found you wandering the eerily-still
Streets,
Even though it was a beautiful afternoon.
I love you so much, but please...
Don't die. I'm not in the mood.
Apr 11, 2019
Apr 11, 2019 at 4:09 PM UTC
I hung onto the back of your belt
Just enough to keep you from going splat on the walkway
Nearly 60 feet below.
You pulled against my grip.
Was it a test? Because I’d fail
I just might dive after you and paint my brain
In streaks all over the trail.
No, pull it together. I’m here to care for you.
I’ll try
To put aside
My own daydreams of suicide.
You are everything to me, I swear
You will never have to walk alone
We’ll face this world of **** together
And battle the unknown.
Apr 11, 2019
Apr 11, 2019 at 12:45 PM UTC
If Jesus was real
And living down the block
Could I still be saved from death?
Without that rootless burden of proof
To leverage against the clock.
Perhaps, sin would be worse
Don't you think
If I jacked off thinking of someone's spouse
Knowing He was merely yards away
Peeking between the blinds of His own house.
Would He be a hero
Or a pariah?
Sometimes I imagine a political messiah.
Would He be throwing trash cans
Through the windows at Starbucks?
Punching Nazis on YouTube?
Or flying the American flag
from the tailgate of his pickup truck?
No, I'm thinking something more along the lines
Of an old man at the pond
Feeding stale bread crumbs to starving ducks.
Pascal's wager would mean nothing anymore
Since I could look this man in His eyes
And ask Him "What's in store?"
"Please don't judge me by my actions
If you really have a say.
I'm not a bad person, I don't think, it's
Just more fun to disobey."
**********
If Jesus was real
And I had a soul to spare,
I'd tell him to mind his ******* business
And cut his ******* hair.
Apr 2, 2019
Apr 2, 2019 at 2:18 PM UTC
I just sat on the ******* bathroom floor
For 15 minutes
Listening to my breath faintly wheeze
Through the last cilia in my lung
I felt my chest rise and fall
Shallow
I take notice of the cold-ass tile
And the ache in my back
How my right bicep is throbbing
From a dogbite last night
How my knees ache from years of fighting
And my head pounds like a church bell
From lack of drugs and nicotine
If happiness is the cessation of all desire
Then please Buddha convince me
That my desire to walk the **** out of here
Is more insane than sitting on the ******* floor
Doing nothing.
Apr 1, 2019
Apr 1, 2019 at 3:59 PM UTC
What a wonderful night in LA!
I haven't had this much fun with you
In so long. Babe,
We needed this.
"Let me try your pasta".
No. It is too eh-spice.
"Pleeeeaase".
Ok, go ahead. Try it.
"no, it's ok".
You know, you're so oppositional.
(Loving, gentle laughter)
I tell you it's too spicy for you
And you want it.
But if I say go ahead and try it
You don't want it anymore.
**** you. Seriously **** you".
That's a horrible thing to say
To your partner.
Feb 10, 2019
Feb 10, 2019 at 11:39 PM UTC