Kiss lips, hips twist-

Fingers fumble and miss,



Fist of hair, drum snare,

The crowd blares,



Fabric thin, trapped within,

Electric current, skin on skin,



**** tongue, come undone,

How it feels to chew Five® Gum.

I did all the drugs
And I drank at the pubs
And I fought in the lots
And I ran from the cops
And I did everything
They tell you that you shouldn't do

But now I'm diagnosed
Cause my heart's end is close
Cause it's growing way thicker
And it's making me sicker
Genetically inclined
To die before my time

They sent me to church
Because I'm in the lurch
Told me I should pray
'Fore my life goes away
And I prayed really hard
That they would just go *******

But now I'm lying in bed
And my heart's full of lead
My pulse has gone stagnant
And my thoughts are jagged
Would I change a thing?
No, no, not for you!

I don't think, as I reach up,
As I reach up, the stars shrink,
The stars shrink, and like glass cuts,
And like glass cuts, I don't think,

The stars fall, and like glass cuts,
And like glass cuts, the clouds stall,
The clouds stall, it won't end, but-
It wont end, but the stars fall,

We can't die, it won't end, but-
It won't end, but I can't cry,
I can't cry, 'cause in my gut,
'Cause in my gut, we can't die.

I don't think, 'cause in my gut,
'Cause in my gut, it's all drink,
It's all drink, I don't know what,
I don't know what, I don't think.

Atop the tower
     Stands
          A mage
     With storm in hand

And inside their mind
     Hell
          Glass, sand
     An empty sky

A clap of thunder
     Blinding
          Hot light
     With no remorse

At the toll of the bell,
After Heaven and Hell,
When our satellites fell,
Did we fare so well?

When the oceans have choked,
Fraught with plastic and smoke,
The halcyon barriers broke,
And the Old Ones awoke.

Now we are so few,
Scattered fro-and-to,
Like Babel anew,
What are left to do?

The sun has grown cold,
Withered stories untold,
Our hearts had been sold,
For failures and fool's gold.

So pray for calmer weather,
Now and forever,
But this life won't get better,
This is my final letter.

There's a pit-
      In my soul,
We'll find what might fit,
     Well, that's the goal,
A pound of Grade-A marijuana?
A lil' *****, yes I wanna',
A couple pills for the thrills,
Needles sure give me chills,
I'll try anything for the thrill!
...
But there's still a pit.

Plus, there's a hole-
     In my heart,
What'll make it full?
     Here's the art:
Driving sixty-nine in a thirty-five,
Punching the first person acting snide,
I'll eat my words till I burst,
Drink poison friendships; I feel worse,
And forget this vile, no good, gods-****** curse!
...
But there's still a hole.

And there's an ache,
     In my dome,
Keeping me awake,
     Yet I can't seem to leave it alone,
There's something busted in my head,
I bet I could fix it with some lead,
Or a sharp-as-sin knife,
Oh how Hell hath such tiring strife,
Oh don't, don't, don't, don't tell my wife!
...
But there's still an ache.

I've walked on beaches beyond reach,
Preached gospels bleached of mortal speech,
Eked out life; a leach, yet lived beyond impeach,
A million years each, but I beseech:

"You are tall upon these palace walls"?
Ha! With just a thousand calls, the balance falls,
You stall, but the audience is not enthralled,
You'll be mauled as Saul when they sought out Paul,

They can trade your riches for rags in this ragtime,
Sublime, subdued piano and rhyme,
Every dime a crime, every lie dines on lime,
Feelings soured like mine as it's about to be realigned.

Drink? Drunk,
Think, thunk,
Smoke skunk,
Beds; bunk,

Time? Now,
Rhyme, how?
Crime, wow,
I'm down,

**** = ******,
Pills / Everybody,
Still + Study,
Chill - Buddy.

Clouds cover my home and keep it modest while faded red brick buildings loom over arthritic streets. People who don't know they're dead yet buy poison in crayola-bright shops as the dead cheerfully seek ****** and methamphetamine. Baleful distractions run through my town like bullets through bones, bludgeoning, piercing and slashing our slice of Americana to pieces. The clouds may cover us, but 'modesty' is a lie.

I'm walking on grey, choppy seas,
Nobody sees the breeze of my anxieties,
Try to see me for me and you'll be seized,
We breed the need for a connected society!

Under our masks we're just self-loathing leaches,
We've run our race without learning the lesson it teaches,
We've polluted the oceans and littered our beaches,
Not even space is beyond our reaches!

What we need is an extinction event,
A decimation, except only one in ten,
Because nine left alive, humanity would thrive,
It's time we drive home the point that our time is spent!

To be stranded on this side of death,
To take your last breath and find you have another left,
I'll make the sacrifice, I won't be the one in ten,
If that's what it takes to make us whole again.

Decades pass like seconds-
Ever closer till we go,

Flowers wilt from acid rain-
How could you not know?

You taste sorrow on the wind-
Drifting past us, it may slow,

It's my turn to say goodbye,
Never colder will we grow.

And then, in a lightning flash,
You know they spoke the truth!

A brilliant mind, a dire warning,
But you ignored the youth.

A cinder party, a barren tree,
Another extinction unknown,

Blind behind gilded palace walls,
You can die there, all alone.

Efficiency, it's called-
Three rooms we'll share,
Mudroom, bathroom,
Bedroom: our lair.

She picked it,
And I was content,
I still am!
To her, I knew what it meant.

An evolution,
A third phase-
A step past dating-
A coming of age.

We've been together-
For over a year now,
And the rest of our lives;
Are already here, now.

I took a handful of pills,
So I don't have to feel,
Chased 'em with straight Gin,
Where do I end or begin?

It's killing me or the memories,
They're lined up like enemies,
This Mary Jane by my side,
The only place I can hide,

I've been high for two weeks,
I haven't yet hit my peak-
And all the dealers are dry,
A ten strip of acid to fly,

She told me to leave her alone-
So I done sold my phone,
And now I'm doing these lines,
While my heart is doing time.

I wrote for 10 minutes,
A lifetime of carefully chosen words,
But the app crashed and closed and burned,
And my finished poem disappeared.

****** wrists-
Are better than ***,
At least then-
I feel something.

Why do we watch the rain?
It tumbles into our lives, anxious to find it's home.
Chalk stains and tears have no shelter, under clouds of rain.
All will be made clean again, as the rain wanders on home.

Hollow, floating just on the surface,
Follow the motes of dawn 'till they drown.
Plastic and pleasant: all that the earth is,
Spastic and present: rising, rising to fall back down.

There's no song that even comes close-
To matching the sea of loathing inside,
I'm running, seething, not verbose-
Wearing baggy clothes to hide,

The scars that I can't afford to make-
I'm breaking behind paper walls so high,
Counting cars like falling stars-
Faking it all, "I'm just fine," I lie,

I'd love to rip my throat out-
With the hands that dug my grave,
I shrug, and slip away, in doubt-
Why can't I just behave?

"Fight back!",
"Don't take it lying down!",
I frown, as the meaning fades and cracks,
Resistance is more than mounting an attack,

"The wheel will turn.",
"The buildings will crumble.",
I mumble, their disapproval stern,
Resisting is failing to learn.

I'm gunna be a dad!
And I'll admit, I'm a little scared,
I had never dared or dallied that-
Fatherhood may be my next hat,

My love and I aren't married yet,
Not that I will ever regret,
I'll bet on our love and firmly wait-
With sights on our wedding day,

And to our baby, precious dear,
We await you with joy and cheer,
We promise, we will always adore-
And cherish you, forever more.

Sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep,
I sincerely doubt I can,
Coffee, more coffee.

I won't tell me kids about Santa Claus,
And you might ask "Why?", because-
Like the Easter Bunny and Jack Frost,
You lied to your kids.

You meant well, I assure you,
And convinced them of wishes and miracles too,
And things falling out of the sky so blue,
But none of it is true.

Now, we all decieve ourselves a bit,
And believe in the ritualistic skits,
And pray, or wish, or write a list,
But logically, its all horse spit.

So when my kids look under the tree,
For their generic winter holiday gifts,
They'll see it came from dear old dad,
And at that, their spirits can lift.

"But why," you ask, "won't you tell them about Santa?"-
As you look at me like i've grown an antler,
And I'll take a breath, and let it out,
And try to contain what I ought to shout,

The poor and the needy are-
Abused by the greedy,
And the evil corporate overlords too.

They can't afford fancy presents,
They're living like peasants,
Its a state of modern serfdom, yet to you-

You buy phones and new games,
For your kids, with no shame,
And they think nothing of Santa when-

The poor kids might get socks,
And go outside to kick rocks,
And wonder why Santa hates them.

If I killed myself today,
I'd have said what I have to say,

Life is pointless and you know,
In the end, we all have to go.

I wanted to write,
But I don't think anyone will care,
And I think that's why-
I don't think I can share.

I was young-
     When it happened.

Snow was drifting down from steel skies,
     Tumbling in slow-motion,
   My fingers were numb, my gloves thin.

The neighborhood children all gathered,
     Clad in winter coats, scarfs and mittens.

Across the street from my father's house-
     The neighbors had a tall hill,
   And we would ride our sleds until the sun went down.

I wanted hot cocoa,
     My brother wanted to race.

He told me to stop whining,
     I was the younger brother,
   And he was always right.

Then the snow stopped falling,
     And we knew- I knew something was going to...

I couldn't feel the cold,
     Everything was light, weightless,
   And my feet
      Left...
         The...
            Ground.

I fell,
Faster,
Faster!
And I knew I'd fall back to Earth,
The hill, my friends, my brother grew smaller.

Then, I saw myself-
     Tumbling back down.

I awoke with a start,
     Today we'd be going sledding.
   My brother would want to race.

Drip.
The skies are sad today,
And trees have grown old,
Creaking as they wave,
With stories left untold.

Drop.
The sidewalk lays cracked,
On streets left to themselves,
With tiny apartments stacked,
Like boxes on frozen shelves.

Drip. Drop.
Are the clouds crying-
From joy or loss?
Is it light, like angels flying...
Or lamenting over the cost?

Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop.
The sun hides his face,
From our empty, lonesome town,
And the dreary, forgotten pace-
Keeps dragging us back down.