I take one to keep the blues away;
One so I don't peel my skin like a banana;
One so I can sleep without being chased by death;
One so I don't jump out of the car on the highway;
One so I don't run down the street naked talking about ethical consumption under capitalism;
One so I don't cry about the sad looking potato chip;
One to **** the pain in my heart;
One so I can focus on my school work;
One so I don't tell my teacher he looks like a bridge troll;
And one so I don't fall in love with you.

You are a grey guitar
wailing
a sandstorm
adding the grit to my teeth
a white pearl necklace
falling over a lady's bare chest
A lonely birthday
where no one calls but the deskman

I asked you
                  so I knew.

I turned you
from a cherry sweet Sunday
                                                 to this.
Look!
What have you done to my pleasant canyon dream?
I woke, and snoozed the alarm four times this morning.
Each time,
last night was still there
boring into me
a metal casket
                         creaking open and then
                                  finally
                  ­                            CRASH
                               ­                             closing shut.

Wearing black without a reason,
I sit in a well-lit room at one in the morning.

A dark window facing me
with no moon peeking out from it's depths.

Two nights ago,
the rain drooled from a sleepy sky
and I was a sorrow on fire.

Now I am only fire.

The dogs escaped the yard,
biting a hole in the fence.

Here I am,
a dog with dull teeth.

I cling to a mad comfort.

Wearing black without a reason.

the streetlight glows
on a black spider in the bush
a cigar, slowly burning
stone-faced, a blue angel appears
hand extended, palm up
a car alarm goes off
and the moon goes slanted
a naked pain works it's fingers into my chest-plate

The sun sizzled on a hot pavement
the flies buzzed and landed on us
we swatted them away
we were the dead
we walked out into the day laughing,
like children
and went into the night wanting,
like men
I am haunted by the summer
my alligator skin goes out crawling
and my milk white eyes
pour over your devil red body
and I am suddenly a wasteland
from my shoulders to my soft core

With some help from my cigars, little dancers dressed in swirling black smoke, I'll keep the words from leaving my mouth. I'll say something about my day instead. It's okay, I'll just pretend. With the shadow from the sun visor covering my eyes as they well, I'll tell you about my lunch plans. Small talk, right? I can be good at this, with you. My ears, little zombies searching for a pulse, I'll ask you how your day went. I'll pounce on a laugh, I'll bite at a smile. This is all I have. It's okay, I'll just pretend.

so I give you this gift
disrobed doll parts
with baggage
and you love it
it is your first broken toy
and you fix it up
breathe life into it's smile
until it's eyes no longer gleam
and you throw it to the dogs
on the patio in the night
and they love it
it's their first broken toy