Cigarettes make a fine wife,
they can’t cheat,
only you can walk away,
they won’t back talk you,
and at least their  honest about killing you.

She's like your first girlfriend and even though she's a little older you'll always love her.

Something bigger than your heart throbs when you see her velveteen face in films.

Even though she has been with three hundred different guys that doesn't matter at all.



When she retires a part of you feels sorrow as you remember her prime exploits fondly.

Just to see her you had to steal your dad's magazines or delete all of your web history.

She is the only woman you know that's never hurt you or broke you down into tears.


No matter what your fetish was the odds are that she has done it before just for your enjoyment and now she's just gone from that forever.



You'll never forget her name and you'll think about her fondly in your happiest dreams.



However in a way she's unable to die as she's immortalized in videos, pictures, and in all of that ***** on tissue papers you long since thrown away.

As Heaven and Hell filled your glass you gave me the the gift of laughter and raised my spirits several times.
Those stories about a plethora of assess, wild crazed friends, and a hard painful life intrigued me for countless hours.

Never are you just a simple shade of black or white your always that insane drunk artist that mixes up the paint.
Your advice and experience taught me new colors that I would have never been able to imagine before.
Unlike me your a true writer that’s unaffected with the STD of being just a poet, but you still just might have the clap.
Your works are ****** great so don’t you EVER stop trying to get your stuff out to this twisted world……..

Because if you quit I will seriously be obligated to punch you and I know you’ll still be able to easily kick my ***,
even though you probably broke your hip after you got out of your walker and unplugged your dialysis machine.

I’m not a mascochist  (Unless I get a *** of cash or your a pretty Asian girl) so please for the love of god never make me do that, and hell I really like a lot you so I’d really prefer not to put a .38 special deep into your chest cavity.

Keep staying crazy you ******* and although more than likely as your future attorney I’ll sure as hell stay busy,
but your my big brother and I ******* love you man so don’t you ever change.

P.S. Don’t hog on all of the good runoff ***** unless they are too chubby.

The ferocious hands of fate push me gently yet mercilessly me into becoming a pallid shell of a man.
A crumbling mausoleum of faded memories residing in my heart shatters all the edges of my stoicism.
Time passes slowly to a man trapped by nightmares inside a forlorn brick cage, simply unable to fly free.

I can see the garden of eden living inside a woman's smile before she abandons me in brimstone streets.
There are soft distorted melodies between the endless amounts of the harsh choruses of gnashing teeth.
There have been no words more sordid words spoken since the foolish final loud yet silent foolish goodbye.

All of my daily nightmares are enlaced with the makings of pleasant golden wishful and merry dreams.
Oh how I long for beautiful eastern maidens, long arid desert nights, and a love that I just can’t ever find.
In the depths of sleep between the screams and cold sweats I feel hope dashed amongst the wicked things.

Fear and doubt flow directly through my veins freezing me into a chunk of solid ice,

Uncertainty forcefully drives a spike straight through my soft and thudding heart.

I want to speak but my tongue is sliced into pieces and fed right back down my throat.



The weight of isolation crushes my spirt flat against an endless sea of old concrete,

and true love and loyalty for my family and friends feels truly impossible to ever express.

Crude communication bumbles and kind fumbling gestures only push me away yet farther,

into a place distant as distant as my derelict father was to his motherless crying child.



Trickling thoughts whispers about the old familiar danger lurking within a lovely woman.

Repeated memories of abandonment burns fast as gunpowder inside my darkest hours,

and five stained cases became forever stuck in the lonesome cylinder left out in the rain to rust and was permanently welded shut.

I could hear the lone coyote howl

The desert winds whistle their sweet somber song

The sunlight provides a comforting warmth

The skies are a beautiful blue

and expand as far as the eye can see



Rattlers ramble on with their solitary lives

and many homesick men miss their wives

they long to be held by their angles once more

yet loneliness makes the heart grow fonder

and the memories become evermore stronger



The nights are quiet as can be

Stars shimmer and shine in perfect harmony

and will be displayed out like a painted masterpiece

I sit bathing in the moonlight content and happy

There is beauty in this barren landscape



The Mojave can always be a fickle mistress

life and death are juggling hand in hand in her never-ending circus

but a part of her spirt slowly creeps into your soul

and you will always be left wanting to return

I'm stuck betwixt blues and left alone to ponder inside lonely hour.

Eternity ticks away on the clock sinfully second by second.

The isolation transforms me into a sinister creature most dour.

Brown eyes and a beautiful smile chases my heart to straight into ruin.



Old bloodstained memories haunt my mind like angry ghosts.

Screaming silence has become the loudest sound left in her wake.

The cold artificial lights illuminate my every single mistake.

Yet I know she has sailed onto troubling new coasts.



High-octane worries and doubts speed through my worried mind.

I remain bound by hopeless desire and a love that I clearly lost.

all that can be done is to await for the uncertain future to finally unwind.