I'd bet the world,
if it were mine to bet,
That the flavors of your lips
would open themselves,
one by one,
Like the chapters of a book
about a sad girl
who swears
that she doesn't want to be saved

I will have etched my name
into the stars
With my fingernails
being pulled apart
Dissonance fades
as consonance grows
And I've come to realize
there's no such place as home

Yet

What cannot be found
must instead be made
From the very same dirt
where you make your grave
Though the grievance is heavy
the ship still runs its course
Though the carriage is ablaze
it's still pulled by his horse

Voice

A reason to move on
without my fellow man
Because everyone does
whatever they can
Lie, cheat, steal
to backstab is a must
I truly believe
that his reason is just

Because

An opinion to the sky
it's like a cloud to the fish
Try as he might
he'll never get his wish
It's drowned out by the wind
and murdered by the storms
Cremate the dream
and let the ashes lie warm

At an old friends birthday party,
and I knew you'd be there, too.
Look at me: I've finally got a belt on
and I finally laced up my shoes

Now look at you:

Everyone eating out of your palm
fed by silver, across the room
But remember what the bald kid once said:

"There is no spoon"

The web of life's had us connected
A Taker, a Leaver
The renown rejected
And The Story of B wasn't what I expected

But at least I finally
                                finally read it

Again,

Your nose and cheeks,
lupus red,
The blush of wine
leaves you out of breath
Like the bite of a wolf
that leaves you closer to death



You can't escape the web

Well,
four parts to be exact

I left three chunks of skin

And my old favorite hat

We drank too much Svedka
As we waded in the banks

The broken glass inside my hand
Was the closest thing to "thanks"

Four in the morning,
Too drunk for the E.R.

The stitches you put in my hand
Will forever leave a scar

You said letting yourself go
Was the best way to spend the day

But Katie, when I look at you
I only see someone who's run away

I thought I could help you find a home
Behind the Minnehaha Falls and flats

But I think I only lost myself

And, of course, my favorite hat

I'm doin my best to just be friends
but while watching the sky tonight,
just us two,
I wished on both
those shooting stars
for you

I used to love
being all on my own
That was until
I had you in my home
We'd have music play
and all the lights would be on
I haven't flipped a single switch
since you've been gone

I used to love you
like a shark loves the smell of blood
And now I'm stuck missing you
so ******* much
We used to play games
like opposing teams
But those battles were never
as bad as they seemed

I miss your face
I miss your hands in mine
I miss all the gloomy days
when you'd let your sun shine
I miss your mistakes
Hell, I even miss the lies
But I don't regret the fact
I left tears in your eyes

No, I don't miss the pain
and I don't miss the fights
Now that your gone
I'm fast to sleep every night
I don't miss waiting on you
or being your mother
But I do miss the joys
of having a lover

I feel so bad
for leaving you lost
But you were eating my soul
and it wasn't worth the cost
I don't miss the fears
I don't miss the mistrust
I only miss the feeling
of there being an "Us"

Yeah, I only miss the feeling
of there being an "Us"

I sleep with my bed on the ground,
like the Japanese men.
I drown in the floorboards
again and again.
Dreams of dragons and kami,
embodied forms of yin.
They feed on my bones.
They feed on my skin.

I forget that you still don't know
That I am so forgetful

And that's one of the things
I think
that I like about you

I know they say it in the movies
but I don't think it's true
I think this town is plenty big enough
to both handle me and you

The roads may not be paved
at least not in gold and dreams
But that's stuffs never nearly as good
as they try to make it seem on the T.V.

Everything my new friends say
Is drowned out by a light rain
While the acid on their tongues
Starts to pull each of them away

They'll be climbing trees all ****** day

DJs playing on the beach
With sand settling beneath my feet
The ***** and powders meet
And it starts to feel like ecstasy

At least that's what they're telling me

I spot you, so tame
Intrigued by your frail frame
I knew that it would come to this,
It is my favorite game

I stride across the sand, asking your name

The two of us walking through the trees
Your mini skirt inches above your knees
I start to get the sense
You do whatever it is that you please

I begin to think you're the one who's playing me

You say you hate a late bloomer
That people need to grow up sooner
And that all these ****** up kids
Are just another type of tumor

The universe has a meta sense of humor

And now you've got me alone
But you're losing control
You've crossed the thin line
Between belligerent and 'in my zone'

Oh God, I should have known

We are all what we hate
I like to call that fate
And it's why those filled with distaste
consume things that sedate

I've got you figured out, and that's checkmate

It feels like a spider
crawling up your spine
Or a voice in your head
saying that nothing is fine
It wants you to run,
to spring and to flee
It wants to be naked
unattached and free
It wants to learn something new
to chart unclaimed territory
with nothing weighing it down
and no reasons to worry
It would rather explore
than repeat the same situations
It's a call out for more

It's a creeping sensation

She read her book
Her eyes focused
Like a hawk on its prey,
Hunting down every next page

She read her book
In the shade of an umbrella,
Like a spine in a sleeve
She continued her numbered journey,
naive

She became excitable,
Nearing the end of her trip
Each page consumed in a hurry:
Four-oh-four, four-oh-five, four-oh-six

The plot thickened,
The ****** commenced
The past two hours
Flew by, so intense

She finished her book
And into the distance she looked




disappointed

"In 2 years
I'll regret the things we never did
You will regret the ones we've already done"

She was right

You wake up,
in a world moving too slow
to ever be significant,
and while laying in your bed
you realize something:

Nothing's changed, except who you're *******

---

Twenty years later,
you wake up in a different bed
horrified by a single thought:

Everything's changed, except who you're *******

A humid night
filled with magic and marijuana
laced pumpkin pie

Capped off with kids
singing Richard and Mimi Farina
on the back porch, alone

An acoustic guitar,
dreadlocks and harmony
found in the sticky air

Electric girl,
Pack Up Your Sorrows
and give them all to me

Put your circuits in the sea,
do what you feel now,
and give them all to me

I was reminded of you this past weekend

I drove by your old place
Where you first let me see you naked
Yet I only stared at your face
And that just made you feel more timid

I saw it as I was driving to Spoonriver
Just to the left of the Guthrie
It was for Mother's Day lunch,
Yet it was her who payed for me
She said that she wanted this moment to be happy
Instead of something that might ******* me
She said to just hold on to all my money
Because it finally looks like I've stability

I think that what she meant to say
Was that everything's going to be okay
Instead of awkwardly denying May

... I mean me




On the way to drop my mom off

I drove back past your old place
The one up over in Nordeast
Where we would buy volcano drinks
At the tiki bar of ****** Suzi

We would walk the mile from your living room
Beneath the quiet winds of spring
And hand in hand with our pre-game buzz
Was a disregard for everything
Almost exactly a year before today
I was in a fist fight there
The bartender said, "At least it was for your girl"
and that they didn't even care

I think that what he meant to say
Was it might be time to call it a day
Instead he gave more drinks to you and May

... I mean me




The rest of that night had been a breeze

We walked back to your old place
A crooked grin,
Attained from gin,
Was sprawled across your face

We found our way inside
We found our way into your bed
Like shedding pedals, you undressed yourself
And took the flowers from your head

It took you all night just to say
That you had never felt that way
And that you thought you were in love with May

... I mean me

Because I know I've got good intentions
But no one else here thinks I do
Is it because of a bad impression
Or because an honest word is something new

I guess it doesn't help that it seems
I've something that I try to hide
Behind a bitten tongue, a shared bottle
And another starry skyed black night

We sit here in front of a fire
Sharing stories of fires past
Most are told by perfect liars
Yet they all think that mine move way to fast
Don't they know that's how all the best things happen
That, and they're often all done out of sight
And just because they unfold quickly
Doesn't mean they weren't done just right

The fire keeps on keeping on
While the group breaks off into smaller cliques
And as the bottle drains its way to empty
They look for other things to wet their lips

Couples start to vanish in the fog
To places that are best kept secret
Like vampires running from the sun
They disappear from places kept well lit
A small blonde with a pixie haircut
Takes my hand and leads me somewhere silent
She kisses me, hands on my chest
And tells me we need to keep things quiet

So now I sit here with my mouth shut
For just the second time tonight
But the hush didn't last very long
My voice was given up without a fight

Oh Christ,
Soupy's done it again
With just his voice and a pen
He knows how to speak to me
Just through the lines that he mutters
******,
He's done it again
This time it's just like he said:
I wanna live in the city
But I wanna die in the suburbs

For once I don't care
Where the other roads lead
For the first time,
In a long time,
I don't hear them calling out to me
I'm not looking for anything
to start being distracting
I'm more focused on the path
that's been placed beneath my own feet

I've spent every waking day
Believing that everyone needed to be saved
Now I've finally found someone who does,
And for once,
I can't find the strength

     Am I losing my way?

Because I've been acting
like I'm losing my ground
But the truth is
I've been coming around
I've worked ******* picking up the pieces
And now
I dont want us to get attached

This way you can't bring me down

How is his life?
     Has he seen the sights?
          And can he sleep at night?

       But does it all feel right?
He's got nothing to compare it to,
     so I guess it might.


There's a closet deep within this monster
and he only opens up when he feels like his father.
He squeezes his knuckles,
     a relief of tension,
but it still just aint enough to drown out the apprehension.
He's made of sticks and stones,
          of broken bones
   and abandoned homes -
open for a tenant
          with nowhere else to go.
But with just a little *****,
          smoke
               and wisdom
he can find the right mood
     to hold a rhythm
not unlike any other stage diver,
               cage fighter
     or rhyme writer.

A means to a loose end
                    to make the world feel lighter.

You're going to make a life
Even if it kills you
The irony, a silver bullet,
Is hollow tipped and true
I've become a conscience,
The Hand of the Queen, a guide
The whisper of a realist
With nothing more to hide
We've found the perfect balance
Between a balanced mind and something new
We've lost ourselves in time
And now all we need is truth

Just because I stumble doesn't mean I'll fall
Just because you have touched the skies
It doesn't make you tall

It's been a day,

     It's been a nostalgic day

There are plenty thoughts in my head
To keep me up and awake

You said the right things
          the right way
at the wrong time
     on the wrong day

And now we'll never be okay
Nothing could ever be okay

   Again



.
.
.


Shopping at The Wedge
     I ran into an Ex
We started talking again
   We both only wanted ***
We kept in touch,

               we craved the touch

But I left her again,
          Because it felt like too much

     too soon

Much too soon,
     I couldn't handle being alone
with a lover in the room


(Dot)
(Dot)
(Dot)



Sometimes I'm desperate
Sometimes it's desperate for me
Drowned in a cruet
Sometimes I just need to breath

Oh God, I'm trying
          Why can't you see
Please stop taking everyone
     I love
                          away
from me

There's eyes in the back of my head
and fingers,
outstretched,
looking for anything they can

for something,
though they do not know what
A smile - A wink
A feeling in their gut

Something found, yet never read
Something that words just cannot capture
Their voice inside your head
The feelings of a rapture

A love, so fresh
that it could never be again
The feeling of new fingerprints
held tightly in your hand

A high
Unlike any substance can procure
Someone who understands you
who wants to feel what you endure

I've felt it once before,
yet no matter how I try,
I cannot recreate it
and I still cannot find why

Love is the answer,
that's what Rivers sings to me
But it's also a cancer,
and it makes no difference
what you believe

Be new here and question
     What it all could mean for you
Become familiar here and marvel
     At all that you can learn
Earn a space here and discover
     Through your errors and failed attempts,
          Your shortcomings
Spend enough time here and realize
     Everybody falls short somewhere
Spend more time here and theorize
     Your wounds mean far more than any others
Grow up here and fortify
     Your weaknesses into strengths
          Your scars into shields
Grow old here and know
     Your scars weigh much less with time
          It's the scars of those close to you
     That become the burden
Grow wise here and learn
     Your wounds mean far less than any others
Die here and understand
     The body is just a vessel

          Eventually,
     It all fades away

The ice sifting in my glass
melts as the full moon sets
Another vice, constricting,
like a tightly wound corset
I can't be around so many people
in such familiar atmospheres
without a mixed drink and a cigarette
intervening through my beers

On her phone, at the table
She seems alone but not ashamed
I wonder if a single person here
could even guess her name
For a little liquid courage
I finish up my drink
I transfer to a closer chair
and ask on what she thinks

"I've got a past consumed by lovers
and a future filled with death
But the only thing I've ever wanted
was someone else inside my head
I want to hear somebody understand
that I don't always feel so fine"
I think I start to fall in love
as she pirouettes her glass of wine

She tells me how she grew up
on shattered hopes and dreams
Yet everything she's ever needed
has been well within her reach
The scars that she has
they paint a vivid history
A reminder of the past
A tour guide, makeshift, just for me

We talk a little longer
We joke and we sing
Halfway through her bottle
her ride informs us she's leaving
She says "I think I'm gunna miss you
when I'm alone laying in bed
Unless you want to take me there
and tuck me in instead"

We head out to the main street
where I hail us a taxi
She says she wants to split my headphones
and hear something relaxing
So we listen to Alcoa
Cab Rides & Cigarettes
I never knew that such a sad song
Could evoke such an affect




I dropped
her off
and left

But I'm glad
that we
had met

(8:20 P.M.)
I'm out my back door
and into the cities
I've got my hat, phone, wallet,
lighter and keys.
It's a short little walk,
the gas stations not far.
I see where they parked,
I enter the car.

(8:30 P.M.)
Kelsey grabs my hand
and looks me in the eye,
she ignores the centipedes
she sees,
or at least she tries,
she then calmly explains
she's out-of-bodied
the entire car ride
and how she's been
counting the stars
even though its not quite night.
She says we're swimming
through the mountains
and climbing up the seas
but from where I'm sitting
we're still in the back seat.
I ask, "Hey, what's she on?"
"I think LSD.
But don't worry, it's cool,
she's dating the guy
throwing this thing."

(8:40 P.M.)
It's a twenty minute ride,
crammed into the Taurus,
but Ashley's in the front,
getting shots poured out for us.
"To a good night!"
We laugh and proclaim,
we down the first drinks
and start the pre-game.
Hennepin then Franklin
then Grand avenue.
We've already got a buzz
now were smokin buds, too.

(9:05 P.M.)
We pull up
just as the suns going down
and as the moon peeks her face
out from under the clouds.
There's already some kid
face down in the grass
some brilliant soul's pulled his pants down
and sharpied his ***.
I guess he shouldn't have passed out
with his shoes still on;
hopefully nobody patrolling
sees him lying in the lawn.

(9:06 P.M.)
The second thing we notice
are the angels on the porch
They've already bent their halos
and lost their wings, of course.
The beautiful brunette
with half her head shaved
turns to welcome us
with a big friendly wave.
With a smile on her face she says,
"Hi! I'm Mel!
Welcome to our party;
welcome to Hell!"
"Where should we put our drinks?"
"Just leave em in your car!
We've got three kegs
and our very own bar!"
We're escorted inside,
in front of at least a hundred people,
and brought to the roof
with a sign that reads Steeple.

(9:20 P.M.)
Jon's tipping a bottle,
just waiting for Kelsey.
He asks her right away,
"Babe, will you marry me?"
She's too far gone
to know what to say,
so he wraps her in a hug
that makes everything okay.
It's clearly a cute joke,
just some little spiel,
but Kels is so high
she thinks that it's real.

(10:30 P.M.)
We all decide its best
if we leave those newly wed
because, to be frank,
there was a lot of PDA going on in their bed.
Mel starts to lead us
down the winding stairs,
by now the broken halo
escaped from her hair.
She said seeing Kels and Jon
made her feel lonely
so she needs another drink
and wants to get to know me.

(11:45 P.M.)
As it turns out
she's a good partner for pong;
but now she wants to sneak off,
to go rip up her ****.
So we take a trip down the hall
and slide through her door.
let me preface this part:
I never expect to score.

(11:50 P.M.)
She gives the lighter a spark.

(11:53 P.M.)
We're making out in the dark.

(12:15 A.M.)
The silence is broken,
we hear someone scream.
We look at each other,
"What the Hell could that mean?"

(12:20 A.M.)
We're scared, so we joke
about what it could be.
The most likely reason?
Something scared the heavens out of Kelsey.
We say she's probably worried
about alien transplants
and the whole entire time
I'm not wearing my pants.

(12:21 A.M.)
"The cops are here!"
I jumped and ran from her bed.
I don't think I'll see those red skinny jeans
ever again.
I manage a quick goodbye
and then I'm into the Hall.
I find my friend Ashley
and our sober cab Paul.
"Kelsey's with the cops
and Tom left with Nancy,
our cars down the road,
lets head to the street."

(12:25 A.M.)
As we sneak out the back
we hear the cops speak:
"The first kid we found
had **** drawn on his **** cheeks."

(1:05 A.M.)
After a while
the three of us arrive,
back to my place,
though we started with five.
The drive back was extended,
even if Paul was driving well,
because in my drunken stupor
I made him stop at Taco Bell.
We head through the porch,
My roommate's still up.
He asks if we wanna drink
and then goes to grab cups.

(1:50 P.M.)
After a few rounds of Kings
Paul's on the couch, fast asleep,
and James went downstairs,
It's just me and Ashley.

(2:00 A.M.)
We turn a movie on
and we sit in my bed.
We discuss all the things
going through both of our heads.
For three straight hours
she flirted up some guy
'til his girlfriend walked in
and started to cry.
She called Ashley a *****
who swore she didn't know
while dude stared at the ground
and said, "Sorry, bro."
Ashley had enough,
she hates being called a guy,
so she winded one up
and kissed her fist to his eye.

(3:00 A.M.)
We didn't watch the movie,
we just talked some more,
until we fell asleep
keeping one another warm.
Two old friends,
two trips in different Hells
and the only thing to do afterwords
was to laugh at ourselves.
Two old friends,
who's hunt for love was a blunder,
who consoled their loneliness
by wrapping up in each other.

Hearing you question your life
Made me quest in mine

I don't need someone
who understands me,
I need someone
who understands
that I am content in my understanding
that they may not always
understand.

Empathy found me at a very young age.


Am I making sense?
Do you understand?

If you wanted change
You should have asked for growth
You have what it takes
And you should have known

The lines that people like
I draw with no cohesion
They're simply strung together
Like your scarred, forgotten lesions

Like a message that hadn't
Been conveyed in a while
The fault line is lost
In the curves of your smile
Your teeth, like the ocean,
Wave in the wind
They have conjured up anger
For less fortunate men

I've sailed in search of demons
And twelve month old dreams
Yet I'll never find either
At least, that's how it seems

As I fiddle with theme
And get lost in motifs
I can't feel anything
Walking nonfiction streets

I'm like smoke
I begin to blow
Through the concrete
and through the snow
And no one you'll ever know
Thinks the world moves too slow

Except me

Another night another choke
Another ignorant bloke
I feel the world is a stage
So I dance every day
Center stage of the masquerade
and I know we're all feelin' safe

It's like a jungle sometimes

It makes me wonder
Where's the thunder?
I saw the lights but couldn't feel em move
A ******-snack without the due
I couldn't feel the groove
Unless it' was in the amplitude

Another outrageous night

Out of sight
A state of mind
Control everything all of the time
Like the Pharaoh, The Sparrow, a king
Forget everyone
yet retain everything

On top of the world, on top of me

It's all about heart and compatability
And your faithfulness, it spoke to me
I don't think I've ever heard the truth
But the things you see could be your truce
I bet you think you've got me figured out

But none of your words ever left my mouth

You've got memories, I've got ghosts
And I can't forget, hard as I try
I could map all the words you ever spoke
Like constellations in the sky
Second to the righteous and straight on 'til mourning
Like men lost at sea while soul searching
The repeated prayers were wasted breath
Used to **** time while we waited for death

The salts in the air and the ocean breeze
Burn the cracks in our skin and make it hard to breathe
While the remarks and past that cast our sail
Are lost from our lungs with each exhale
Hope and courage course through our veins
Trust and faith is all that remains
With defeat and pride guiding the waves
We set a course for better days

Onward to mystery
To make our mark in history
When clarity becomes a cloud
everything starts to let you down
I am the Flying Dutchman
searching for better ways
I  am an undead crew
longing for better days
If you see me on the horizons
just let me be
I'm trying to find value
in a calm at sea

His Achilles heel
is that he's all thumbs
Good looks, has style
but always been a bit dumb
So he's learned to bite the bullet
until he bites the dust
The greatest trick he ever pulled:
Convincing them
he was one of us

But it's been a bit much

So he popped the clutch

And now he's out of touch

"I've got this army of two thing
figured out:
You and me against
everything under the clouds.
An eye for an eye
leaves the world blind
yet you'll only taste blood,
biting your tongue all the time.
So when we get the chance
let's head for the hills.
We'll take all the drugs
and leave all the pills."
Take a testosterone boy
and a  harlequin girl
and just like the old song,
a story will unfurl.

Because every man is a town
inhabited by his ghosts;
whichever haunt is around
sees change in the host.
She can taste each drug
that's ever touched his lips
and she feels herself fall
every time that he slips.
There's a white line between addiction
and recreational use,
you need to conquer it
before it starts to consume you.
Eventually the nature
of his addiction will spread
and it starts to fill the cracks
inside his loved ones head.

She's blinded by his single
glaring quality;
her eyes have turned the green
of his hard earned money.
She can't hear anything
over his way with words
so she divides all that he says
into thoughtful thirds:
The times that he's right,
the times that he's wrong
and the things that sound like lyrics
from a cheesy love song.
He's calculated all his moves
and stolen all his lines
and the haze he's put around her
almost makes her feel fine.

He just wants someone
to be proud of what he's done
'cause his mother gives love,
yet he's received none.
And she just wants someone
to approve of her thoughts;
she's never been accepted
yet it's all that she wants.
They've confused love
with a complacency
but to everyone else
the truth's presented clearly.
A scattered home
comes from a scattered mind,
now their losing control
and running out of time.

There's an angel up above us
He's just listened to a song
And he understands it's meaning
Although it wasn't very long
This devil sold a secret lie
Now she fears it's far too late
If she could turn back the hands of time
She would ask for a clean slate

"Forgo all the secrets
That are twisted in this spire
Lay them unto me
And I will walk them through the fire
They'll smell of ash stained brimstone
From the moment they arrive
But the fact that they've been whispered
Should make you feel you're more alive


Not everything perceived as evil
Has always been that way
Sometimes revelations
Are best saved for another day
What was once seen as an omen
Could be a blessing in disguise
Sometimes the coolest thing you'll ever touch
Is the fire in his eyes"

The devil stands beneath us
In a cold orchestra hall
All dressed up for the winter
Even though its early fall
She's either laughing or she's crying
Which it is I do not know
But she wields it through her fingertips
Unto her cherry wood cello

I like that girl in the cutoff jean jacket
who always goes out with intent to make a racket
All that tribal black light paint
that you'd think would look cliche
until you see how well it illuminates her face

I want someone who still makes me feel young
Who isn't in a hurry to be all grown up
She's not afraid to say yes
to rock a neon headdress
and she always thought it cool to stretch her flesh

She rocks the shutter shades down in her V-neck
All summer long she's on the festie trek
She likes her wooden spiral plugs
her pieces shaped like bugs
and her most favorite thing is to give free hugs

From Triple Rock back to The Cabooze
Electric Forests and Bonaroos
She doesn't think that she'll ever grow old
with music, friends and stories to be told
Hemp and glass are her silver and gold




However, I am not quite like you
I'm just biding my time with this rowdy crew

I haven't yet committed to keeping my youth
and that's why my skin's still clear of tattoos

The longest lasting scars, forever proof:
You were once wild and young but afraid to face the truth

We're outsiders, you and I
The Periphery
Watching everybody else
Pretending we're just like them
But knowing we're not

The best we can hope for
Is to find a place where we don't have to pretend

It's a shame really,
Under different circumstances
I think we could've been great friends

Maggie won't stop watching Charlie Bartlett,
she claims she was Kat Dennings in another life.
I try to dissect her lack of compassion
with a cheap bottle of red merlot wine.



She says:

'I ride a ******* fixed gear.
I'd rather drive a car.
And although you'd never know
I self-inflicted this here scar.
Why do you like Stephen King?
Do you know what I'm thinking?
...
Anxiety really mellows a woman out.'

Her mind is like a whirlwind.
I don't know where to begin.
Should I ask about her fears
about her tears
or why she's so thin?
She's watching Netflix again
and I can't pretend
to understand the kind of man
that she wished I am.



She breaks the silence:

'I lie to strangers too much.
I'm afraid to be touched
or mistaken for someone
who's too much of a lush.
I feel I'm far too shy
and I don't know why.
...
Introspection really seems to calm me down.'

So we sit on the couch
just watching tv.
I think a calm and understanding
is all that she needs.
And when someone talks,
no matter how it seems,
sometimes a listener
is the best thing that you can be.

When did you earn the right to feel anything,
anything but wonder when it comes to me?
When did I lose the privilege of trust?
Around the same time I found wanderlust.

He came to us
dressed to the knives
and peeled our flesh away
with fingers like nines.
The poor, dumb and useless
bank on oblivious,
and you just stand there:
******* oblivion.

A lioness
A lying mess
A lioness
A lying mess

******.

Contempt.

Content.

I bought a ticket to Seattle.
Yeah, I tried to get away.
But this forgotten state of mind
has your hands on me.

I swim up the mountains
and climb through the ocean
Not a secret was sold
before the notion
The language of bodies
speaks so well
Not even the soul
questions itself

We look for Satan with the same intensity
that my mom and dad looked for God.

In retrospect
my parents were always pushing me to expand my consciousness
by huffing glue or gasoline
or chewing peyote buttons.
Simply because they'd done their time,
wasted their teen years
lolling in the muddy fields of Vermont
and the salt flats of Nevada,
naked except for rainbow face paints
and a thick coating of sweaty filth,
their heads festooned
with fifty pounds of fetid dreadlocks,
teeming with crab lice
and pretending to find enlightenment...
That does NOT mean I have to make the same mistake.

Sorry, Satan,
once again I've said the G-word.

Without breaking stride,
Leonard nods and points
to indicate the former deities of now-defunct cultures,
now warehoused in the underworld.
Among them: Benoth,
a god of the Babylonians;
Dagon,
an idol of the Philistines;
Astarte,
goddess of the Sidonians;
Tartak,
the god of the Hevites.

My suspicion
is that my parents treasure their sordid recollection
of episodes at Woodstock and Burning Man
not because those pastimes led to wisdom,
but because such folly
was inseparable from a period of their lives
when they were young
and unburdened by obligation;
they had free time, muscle tone,
and their futures still looked like a great, grand adventure.
Furthermore,
both my mother and father had been free of social status
and therefore had nothing to lose by cavorting ****,
their swollen genitals smeared with muck.

Thus,
because they had ingested drugs and flirted with brain damage,
they insisted I should do likewise.
I was forever opening my boxed lunch at school
to discover a cheese sandwich,
a carton of apple juice,
carrot sticks,
and a five-hundred-milligram Percocet.
Tucked within my Christmas stocking
--not that we celebrated Christmas--
would be three oranges,
a sugar mouse, a harmonica,
and quaaludes.
In my Easter basket
--not that we called the event Easter--
instead of jelly beans,
I'd find lumps of hashish.
Would that I could forget the scene at my twelfth birthday party
where I flailed at a piñata,
wielding a broomstick in front of my peers
and their respective
former-hippie, former-rasta,
former-anarchist throwback parents.
The moment the colorful papier-mâché burst,
instead of Tootsie Rolls or Hershey's Kisses,
everyone present
was showered with Vicodins,
Darvons, Percodans,
amyl nitrate ampoules,
LSD stamps,
and assorted barbiturates.
The now wealthy,
now-middle-aged parents
were ecstatic,
while my little friends and I couldn't help
but feel a tad bit cheated.

That,
and it doesn't take a brain surgeon to understand
that very few twelve-year-olds
would actually enjoy attending
a clothing-optional birthday party.

Some of the most gruesome images in Hell
seem downright laughable
when compared to seeing an entire generation of adults
stripped **** and wrestling on the floor,
grasping and panting in frantic competition
for a scattered handful of codeine capsules.

This is for those
Who wear a sleeve on their heart
Because its cold, needs warmth
and it likes the dark
And this is for the ones
with hands on their time
who need a little break
just to clear out their mind

It's funny how a women
can make your head spin
Just like the *****
we've been chasin'
A pretty smile
and a bashful look away
can make you feel
like everything's okay
Forget about pain
and every lost fist fight
her soft eyes
make this the perfect night
I can see her
drinking her ***
I can see me
falling in love
I can see her
sizing me up
I can see me
falling...

In love
in the bathroom hallway
You've got her up
between a rock wall and a hard place
You can see the pleasure
written on her face
and have to imagine
how her lips taste
Too drunk,
every sense has gone numb
Your fingers fumble
on the trigger of her loaded gun
when she asks,
"Do you wanna get outta here?"
You catch your breath
while she grabs one last beer

I fell in love
with the way things used to be
I always come close
but it never comes easy
You have to make love
before you fall into it
Or maybe it's a lie
thats been made up for the kids

All alone,
my mind's over analyzing
I reconnect
with the romantic inside me
I wonder if
this will ever mean anything
Is that my guilt
or my heartbeat racing?
It's probably best
to slow down our pace
Calm myself,
splash water over my face
I finally think
I'm starting to cool down
when someone starts
shooting all the lights out

I'm blacking out
in a barroom bathroom
Waking up
in a ballroom bedroom
The ceiling fan
is spinning softly
but maybe it's the bed,
or maybe it's just me

Well I guess
this is already going down
It's far too late
to try and turn back now
She can feel something's off
by the way I'm breathing
So she whispers
that she really needs me
Tomorrow this will mean
nothing to her
even as she guides
my hand up her skirt
I decide
to get this over with when
the darkness steals
the night away again...

I get laden back
After having too much to think

The womb of the mind
births a child of fear

I wish I was David,
David Duchovny -
not the characters he plays
but the man capable of playing them.

I want you to believe that I want to believe.

I want you to believe.
That, I want to believe.

I want you to believe that.

I want to believe.

A milky layer ascended
and your eyes became
opalescent
The fluidity found
within that blue gaze
was trapped under ice
like a mighty river
snared in December
And all I could ask myself
was "Is she alive?"

The colour rushed from your cheeks

From the red of the blood
that dripped from your septum
due to the ivory powder
you inhaled for perfection
and the blacks and the bruise
of lies and deception
to the green of greed
and yellow of attention

You grew pale
like a corpse
under a cool moon
made of melancholy
and miseries

I'll admit, though
I admired your animosity
The way you chose not to care
almost seemed passionate and planned
rather than spun together
by years of defeat

When I finally realized you weren't coming back
I began to panic

My eyes darted over the phone
and my fingers began to dizzy
I struggled to find the nine
that came before the ones

And just when I believed you were gone
when I thought we had lost any hope
you gasped

The shuddering sound you made
as you grabbed onto that last sliver of life
will haunt my nights
for weeks to come

It was all too beautiful

Is there life after death?
What will happen in the end?
What's the difference in thinking
between women and men?
What's the meaning of life?
How'd it all begin?
If there's a battle for our lives
will good or evil win?
Do ghosts exist,
or the monsters 'neath my bed?
Is this all a dream
that I've made in my head?
Is the world what's moving,
and I'm always still?
Are we guided by fate
or our own free will?
What came first,
the calf or the bull?
Is my glass half empty
or is it half full?
What is love?
How long will I live?
In order to take
must one also give?
Did the Sopranos all die?
Is karma legit?
Ask yourself this:

Should I even give a ****?

I am afraid
that we can't coexist.
For I am a writer
and you an actress,
and the one thing between us
is quite simply this:
The two, dear,
just don't mix

Now, a writer is one
who likes to make stories,
creates onsets and ends,
crafts his dramas from worries.
He sees the whole world
connected by string;
he knows that one simple pluck
could change everything.

Some call it 'fate,'
and it's called 'life' by a lot
but amongst us creators
it is always called Plot.
Every itch has a reason,
each whisper a whim,
within any characters past
lies a reason to win.

But the actor can only see
from their own point of view.
They must master their character;
how they think and what they'd do.
They expend all their energy
trying to be someone else
while the writer's too busy
trying to figure out himself.

As she spews contortion
from her violin chest
The sounds of C minor
began to build a nest
&
As he sifts through propaganda
of bamboo and blast beats
The floor begins to take him
for he hasn't slept in weeks

---

Their thoughts cascade like fire
around the sounds of Show Your Bones
And kerosine licks her wounds
as they spit it up upon old homes
They strike their fondest matches
and watch the wooden parts ungrow
And then they place them in each others mouth
Where no one else will ever go

She dances with rhythm amongst the chaos
while she weaves a tail of smoke
And the beauty caught in her third eye
is the only thing that's broke
His gaze is focused on only one thing
the pittered pattern of her percussion feet
As he finds warmth by the molten lava houses
while standing at the center of the street

Their goal was finely furnished
they burnt a hole right through their childhood
One that would scar their mother earth
who had forgotten how to feel this good
Their past was made of synapses
that could only be found up in their head
And when they really thought about it
they found that 'now' is all that's left

---

As she choreographed a drum line
with the snare found in her sole
The days, the months, the years: her life
began to take their toll
&
As his desk sits around him
he pens a mystery
Of flames and lust: of destruction
he can finally fall asleep

A ******'s a ******'s
a ******'s a mask.
Unless it's a suicide
shattered by the past.
another best friend suffering
from proximity infatuation
is just another turning cog
in a lucid dreaming nation.
Part one, a romantic drama.
Part two, ****** mystery.
Part three, an epic mind-****
of father figures and Penelope.
I died on a soft Vanilla sky
and awoke in the vast salt flats
I guess I'll see you in another life
when we are both cats.
I wonder what's real and what's fake
and if she'd ever really seen me,
I think she's the saddest girl ever
to hold a martini.

Liquid karma seeps into our cuts
The density of blood is defused by courage
The sun sets in our arteries
and the moon grows with each heartbeat

Sometimes I forget that no one has felt this before
That exploring the unknown comes with a price
And like a giant drowned in ant hills
I am lost in things too small to comprehend

A star lost amongst the infinite sky
A koi struggling against the never ending tide
You are the priest caught in a fight
finding your true self amongst unsuitable affairs

And all I want
is for you to know
I'll be by your side