Like coffee
You taste bitter on my tongue
Slightly sweetened
By the glaze of your eyes
When you wet your lips
And press them to mine

You're so serious
I can barely read your lips
Never laughing and never ending
Contemplation of everything
I wonder
When you'll laugh
And if it will light
The whole world on fire

My favorite kind of song
Is not the lazy love ballads
It's the crashing ones
The catastrophic ones
The ones with the voices
Crooning gently
To whispered guitar
Before the solo hits
And you drive off the bridge
And crash your car

I won't ask,
I already know.
I love to talk to you,
But not about this trauma though.

Vultures swoop in within seconds of the demise, talons already sharpened and at the ready.
Distant cousins become inconsolable over the loss of their favorite unknown uncle.

The gold and diamond ring was promised to me, said the once-removed daughter.
She always told me that I could have her flat-screen TV, the landlord told anyone who would listen.

Tears are shed at the memorial banquet, where the knives are kept in the cupboard just in case.
A dead man is worth his weight in gold. Everybody’s dream. Where there’s a will…

The constant cacophony, the needles in all sensitive places, the rush to get to the end for no reason.
The give and take between strangers, the screaming sirens, the specious silence of the app world.
The rescheduling of schedules, the tweets fast and furious, the world spinning off its axis in disgust.

I sit on the step for a few minutes, watching the multicolored spider weaving like an ancient woman.
A bird of paradise colorfully waves at me. An elderly man bends over to talk to his also elderly dog.
A man tunes his piano from an open window. The waves of sunset begin. I calmly go back inside.

The emptiness i feel is becoming more full
My emotions are becoming more dull
I have a glazed over darkness in my eyes
I hear satan calling me asking if i need a ride
I think for this moment i will take that ride.