How much would Hemingway and Raymond Carver,
Bukowski
and Oscar Wilde
scoff at my sobriety?
"You gave in and gave up, at 28?"
The words I'd then write
for these old dead white guys
about wanting to get better
about trying to be sober
about working a program
C'mon man...

In my defense
they didn't have Oxy cottin
or Xanax
But
they also didn't have central air
or auto-correct

So for my old, white,
dead drunken heroes
Who most likely
wouldn't like me
I'll hold my white privilege close
to my heart
At my core I'll be angry with
women
I won't look to jesus
to beg for forgiveness
Most importantly
I'll hold onto the truth
that statistically
I'll end up drinking
myself to death
at 50

He sends a peace sign emoji
and that's cool

I tool around
the underground
Morning dreaming
of manipulating
what seem to be
good hearted girls
on their way to school

After classes
we'd walk around her campus
I'd be holding
to keep the good times rolling
Just to keep the good times rolling
My life starts buckling and folding
I feel the good times rolling
But where is she going?
Where is she going?

I send him a peace sign emoji
He says to himself
"What a cool guy."

Spoiled
West Highland Terriers
Man, they're everywhere
Pulling back on leashes
giving us humans
that look
as if we've mistook
what time is and
the value of the smell
that is right now

Lottery tickets
Time Keepers
Yo,
the trains coming

All these words
left
to type into my notepad
I'll take the local
Breath in the fresh carbon
that is the morning R train

I think I'm tired of being in a hurry
I'm not getting anywhere anyway
I have a couple different books
on me
Pop-tarts
coffee and a banana
I think I'll write a silly poem
about dogs today

I listen to my BBC News podcast
News flash:
donald trump's
a ****** Punk ***

I can't figure out why
my bedrooms so hot
I turned the heat off
I pulled my sheets off
I'm reminded of all
the unsolved murders

Today
take me away from me
I'm out to get me
What's the difference between
the night sky and a black eye?
If I had three wishes
I'd ask twice to be open minded
and then to mind my own business

March
gives birth then
kills off
the plants while
she figures out where she stands
It's like that eerie journey of
not taking you own life
in your hands
and seeing where you land
My friend Steve says
"I'm getting upset because
I don't know who I am"
We talk about if we are complete
and the falsehoods of leaving our
interpretations of ourselves to
ourselves. Sometimes I have
moments where nothing feels real
I felt good
when Steve said
You are more than just a book deal

This is the leaving season
Emergency vehicles
heading in opposite directions
for different reasons

The middle of my cigarette
was the end of one man's life
Cut lines and a dropped call
The rise in the black top
and the places she never called home

A girl skips on the sidewalk
Oranges fall from the market
Small obstacles in the path
of strong legs moved by imagination

Fantasies of what normal feels like
Routines of a year ago forgotten
Did I drink coffee in the morning?
Did I always wake up in pain?
Are him and I the same?

Last night I felt it
something was coming
Something awful
Or even worse
nothing at all

The bodies
moving forward with their eyes
on the papers
Narrowly afraid of eviction
from the land of the free
the home of the scared

Angry texts to my spouse
Apologetic pleas to my boss
concerning the delays
on the yellow line
My news app tells me of
our "leader's" convictions
and his yellow spine

Take the Arabs business
the Mexicans their fruit
Take the sand from the beach
the water from the well
Take the drums from the songs
the laces from the boots
Take caramel from the candy
the dogs from their families
Take the feeling from our first kisses
the mystery of the new day

Just know you'll never take the
direction of the passengers
on New York's subways
who don't need and
will encourage you
to keep your fear