It's the alcohol
It's the medication
It's my sleep schedule

It's my coping mechanisms
My habits
My thought processes

It's just me.
Myself.
And these.

No matter how bad it hurts or
how bad you feel, it’s time to stop thinking about
that person who played with your feelings,
who took your love for granted, who never
appreciated your care, who wasn’t contented
with what you could give him or her. You
can’t stay at that hurtful place anymore.
You can’t keep shedding tears over someone
who doesn’t deserve the love you gave. You
can’t keep feeling sorry for yourself and
thinking if only you did more. You can’t make
them want the relationship because if they
wanted they wouldn’t have let go of you.
You deserve better now. You deserve
someone who appreciates you and who
won’t play with your delicate heart..
Just like a cut on your hand will take
time to heal, your broken heart needs
time to heal as well. That’s not the end
of your life. You will get over that pain
you’re having right now and one day
you’ll be happy again.

benjamin franklin was created by benjamin franklin
one of his most ingenious inventions
you could never read all the books about him
when you finish one, two more have been written
i party in his colossal footsteps
thanks ben, for lending me all those volumes from your library
you invented bifocals, i see clearly
your stove warms my heart
i give away my **** too -- no patents for me either
let’s jam sometime on your glass armonica
i’m packing one of your divided soup bowls on my next ocean trip
i’m sick of losing my clam chowder to the waves
these terms you added to the lexicon:
"battery," "positive," "negative," "conductor," "discharge"
i’m positive i bought a battery the other day
you designed the first penny – only now an anachronism
no matter how many of those saved pennies have been earned
all those aphorisms, my god
i bet you mumble them in your sleep
you started the philosophical society, me the secret music society
you studied whirlwinds and gulf streams when sailing to london for a cup of coffee
you designed flippers, hung onto a kite for windsurfing
used the kite to summon lightning
invite me next time you blow up a thunder house with an ungrounded lightning rod
we’ll make pittsburgh tremble
and congrats on the grounded lightning rods
you saved millions of people and neutralized religion
it’s not the deadly finger of god, the vengeance of the lord
it’s just a buzz
lighting the streets at night comes in handy
though the night watchman concept has gotten a bit fascist
brokering the french alliance was stellar for our onion soup supply
but your suggestion that we unite these states
i’m not sure that one’s gonna stick
and thomas jefferson was a cockblocker
we declare independence from his scolding us for all our mademoiselles

I was not welcome at Hostel Neonate.
Thankfully, this was not a womb with a view. The proprietor, my young, ***** mother, had attempted a swan dive from the staircase of the two story Beantown walkup.  But she failed to stick the landing and I made my debut a month later.  

August 4, 1967, a cataclysmic requiem for the Haight Ashbury dream.  My birth, like that of so many others,  would come to signify the beginning of the end of the counter culture notion of making love, not war.  Free love was no longer free for girls like my mother, and it would never be free for me.  To be continued...

last night i went to the beach.
it was four degrees and i was shaking like the waves,
herons and pied shags darted overhead,
their long necks stretching out against the lavender sky.
my two friends were laughing at my sides, carefree,
i watched them snapping their heads back, chests expanding,
their glee echoing off the upturned sand,
my own joy echoing from my heart.

Uneasy thoughts
Take up too much
Time from me.

Wish it away.

Uneasy memories
Make up pure nonsense
And forgetfulness.

Wish it all away.

Say anything.
Maybe complain or beg.
I don't mind it one bit.
Let me hear your voice.
Even the random banter.
Say anything.