I am no beast
tearing thru the wilderness.

I am a newt
hiding beneath the leaves
trying not to get crushed
beneath the feet
of those destroying my habitat.



But sometimes
you have to be a beast...

so I am a newt
with poisonous skin.

Jacob awoke early in the morning on Sunday and stretched out his limbs beneath the flannel sheets on his bed before carelessly tossing them to the side and off of his body. Jacob sat up and half yawned before catching a whiff of his own morning breath and cracked a slight smile and smacked his lips together in disgust. He stood up and after adjusting himself walked down the stairs to his kitchen where a *** of coffee was already brewing having been programmed to do the night before. When the coffee was done percolating, he poured himself a cup in a mug that a student who had graduated years ago had given to him for his help with her English Lit thesis. Jacob drank his coffee black and could not understand why anyone would ruin the taste by mixing it with sugars and cream. But again he thought that of he were truthful he didnt understand much about people at all anymore anyway. He was out of touch with the outside world after his wife had passed away a little less than a year ago. She always kept him up to date with current events and trends, always made sure to keep him social. And without her around he had become a hermit only leaving the house to occasionally show up for work or go on hunting or fishing trips alone.

Always alone.

Today Jacob decided that he would spend the better half of the morning catching up on the world around him as he walked to his front door and opened it wide letting a bright vast amount of sunshine in nearly blinding him before his eyes adjusted. On his front porch was a stack of newspapers from everyday for the past three weeks. Jacob took the top five off of the stack and went back inside to his kitchen table and sat down after making a second cup of coffee, this time adding a splash of Kentucky bourbon. He unfolded the top section of the first newspaper and skimmed the headlines trying to catch something that would hold his attention. There was war, casualties, politics; none of which he felt like stomaching on this early morning.

He flipped to the comics and scanned the panels, laughing a silent chuckle at Garfield and a few others but folded the paper back up in disgust and tossed it towards the pile of other papers when nothing caught his attention longer than a couple of seconds.

Jacob sipped his coffee and stared into the dark black liquid until he saw his reflection staring back at him. He was disheveled, could use a shave and a haircut. His eyes, always the brightest blue, now looked dull grey, bloodshot, and sunken slightly into his forehead causing his eyebrows to become a prominent feature on his face. He wondered when the last time he had seen himself was but could not recall. He stared at the reflection and did not recognize the man staring back at him so he started to talk to him like a lost friend that he had not seen since the early stages of childhood.

Jacob caught up with the black coffee version of himself, handling both sides of the conversation in slightly different voices discussing his life story since they had last parted. How he met his future wife early in high school and how they could not stand each other initially, went to college on a football scholarship but fell in love with the English department and academia as a whole, how his girlfriend became his fiancé when he proposed to her while on vacation in upper Vermont, how they were married on a sandy beach in Hawaii hours before a hurricane came and the island was evacuated. He told his reflection about his three children - two boys and a girl - and how they had grown up, how he had finally got tenure at his alma mater, how his wife had succumbed to the cancer that had plagued her for the last few years of her life...he stopped at this part of the conversation and stared once again at the coffee and past his reflection. The coffee rippled from a tear that had been welling up in his left eye before slowly falling down his cheek into the coffee. Jacob stood up with the cup in his hand and emptied it out in the sink.

He rested his hands along the linoleum countertops and peered out the kitchen window, watching the breeze make the small birch tree branches sway and dance gracefully. He thought to call his children and see how they were doing but remembered that it was still too early in the morning in their part of the country. The sun was now shining in the backyard and if he looked hard enough he could see birds landing in his grass to eat worms and insects before flying back off to where they came or to where they were going. Jacob wished silently that he could be a bird and just fly away.

"There's no sense in all this dwelling," he heard a voice say from out of nowhere. For a moment he stood very still and felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up before he realized the voice was his own. He did not know he had spoken but knew that it had been said and tho he did not quite feel it, he knew it too be true as well. Jacob let a heavy sigh leave his body and felt a change come over him that started in his outer limbs before spreading inward. He felt a renewal of energy cling to his life.

Jacob went back upstairs to the bathroom and once again studied his face in the mirror. His beard was salt and pepper and he decided it looked rather good on him but needed a trim. He removed the beard trimmer from one of the cabinets and put on a number three guard, trimmed the hair, then replaced the guard with a number two and trimmed again. He looked at the beard and admired the length, color, and thickness and decided that it was how he wanted it.

Next he looked at his hair and tho he needed a haircut he decided to just brush it back and to the side holding the unruly pieces back with a small amount of pomade.

Jacob's grey eyes began to lighten to a sky blue.

He walked to his room and found the cleanest clothes he could find: a pair of blue jeans, fitted black tshirt, and a dark blue button down blazer. He addressed himself in the mirror hanging on the door after dressing and thought to himself that he looked quite respectable and felt very much like a gentleman.

Jacob looked at the photo of his wife on the dresser and smiled at the memories that he cherished deeply of her and his hand drifted towards it and his fingers gently traced the outline of her cheek. He smiled again when he felt the tear roll down his cheek and he knew that he was okay and that everything was okay. It was the most alive he had felt in months.

Another cigarette slowly withers to ashes grasped between the bruised knuckles of my index and ******* just as another burning yellow sun begins to cascade down into the deep blue and pink horizon on another day built solely to bring everyone closer to death.

I take a long drag off the cigarette before taking an equally long sip from a tumbler of whiskey. When I pick up the glass there's a ring of sweat left on the table that reminds me of an eclipse I once saw in my younger years. This was a pointless memory that was soon replaced by the burn from the bright amber spirit.

I savor the taste in my mouth, how it mixes with the blend 27 smoke. I swirl it around and feel the way that it lingers on the tip of my tongue and the way it coats my gums with its warmth. It does nothing to dull the pain that has been building inside but I continue to drink, pouring more in the tumbler until the bottle is empty; never feeling any effects.

I've become numb to the world.

I take another cigarette out of the golden brown and white box, bring it to my lips and light it with a rusted zippo that I found lying on the side of some no-name road a few years back when I was hauling illegal chemicals across state lines. I inhale, letting the acrid smoke fill my mouth before settling deep in my lungs, and exhale the excess. A thick veil of smoke clouds up in front of me and for a moment I cannot see the letter I've nailed into the wall and for that smallest of moments I forget about my troubles, my growing pain, and feel the overwhelming joy of contentment. It is fleeting. The smoke parts, fading into the corners of the room; leaving me staring once again at the note.

My eyes scan the letter and settle on the words "...one month to live." The postmark on the envelope read September 25th. It was now almost Halloween. My chest ached and I felt it cave in under the news that I had read over a dozen times already. Each time felt like a new time, that it couldn't actually be happening. But it was.

It is happening I remind myself.

The pain in my head shot to a burning brightness and I squinted my eyes as if to shield myself from some external force though I knew it to be a useless gesture. The tumor had appeared quickly and spread even faster.

About two months ago I was rewiring outlets for a building that the previous contractor had butchered. It was a simple job and I did it mindlessly, going about the work as usual until there was a searing pain shooting thru my head and I collapsed. When I awoke I was in a hospital with nurses and a doctor standing over me. They were blurry outlines of human forms and their voices were muffled. I slipped back into sleep.

When I woke up again there was only one doctor and he was staring down at a medical chart. My medical chart. He noticed my eyes open and asked questions. I did my best to answer. He told me about the tumor that had spread across my brain, that it was inoperable and the outlook was not good. He said this with all the years of professionalism a doctor can utter. A few hours later I was released.

I stared at the empty bottle of whiskey. I stared at the empty pack of cigarettes. I stared at the letter nailed on the wall. I stared at nothing.

When I stood up a wave of nausea coursed its way thru my body and I caught myself on the kitchen banister before collapsing. I slowly regained my balance and walked over to one of the kitchen drawers. I slid it out and rummaged thru it until I found the smith and Wesson .45 and took it out. I sorted thru another drawer until I found the bullets for it and took them out. I went back to the chair I was sitting in and loaded the gun methodically. I took the barrel of the gun and rested it on the right temple of my head.

I stared at the empty bottle of whiskey. I stared at the empty pack of cigarettes. I stared at the letter nailed on the wall. I stared at nothing.

And then I pulled the trigger.

"You been writing anything lately man?"

"Just IOUs for the government, lawyers, and people who used to call me their friends."

"Sounds rough," Berkley remarked.

Harvard did not respond back. Instead he stared past Berkley's red tipped spiked hair to the girl behind him, watching the small movements she made while dancing to the band onstage. Harvard felt hypnotized by the shake of her hips and the way her quick dye black hair swayed to the left and to the right every time one of her feet left the ground as if she were walking in place.

"...all I'm saying is that someone should do something..."

Berkley was talking. Harvard couldn't focus. He heard his voice somewhere on the peripheral of reality but could not zero in on it. His eyes remained transfixed on the dancer.

"...it's all about helping. You feel drawn to it, ****** in almost to the rush you get from..."

Clips of Berkley's voice echoed in Harvard's ears. Sound bites of a conversation he knew he was part of but couldn't join in on.

The band on stage rocketed thru their set list with the lead singer strutting around in a sequined jacket, doing his best **** Jagger impression but looking more along the lines of a **** head coming down off a high. He played out every rock n roll cliche on stage and the audience cheered him on. Egged him on. The power of rock stardom working the room.

"Thank you Come-Blow-Us Ohio! See you in the morning when we're sneaking out of your house!"

The girl quit dancing and Harvard rolled his eyes back into reality. The past fifteen minutes came flooding into his conscience and he heard entire conversations, **** rock playing, cigarettes burning, beer spilling. It all played in his mind like a slow motion film set to fast forward.

"...I've been doing some soul searching and what I've found is that I lack soul," Harvard heard his voice answering Berkley. He still stared past his friend at the girl who now sat down at one of the tables, the heat of the night stained her shirt and hung closely to the contours of her structure. She smiled at something someone at the table said and Harvard wished silently that he had said something to make her smile like that but felt his feet become anvils rooted to the hardwood floor beneath him when he tried to shift his weight closer to her.

"...There's something about a soul that begs for a creative outlet, if its not being fulfilled it enters into a state of stasis until it withers into the heart of a cynic."

"So I should be creative and my soul will flourish?"

"At the very least you'll have something to bargain with when you meet the devil."

"I've met the devil, good dude, gets a bad rap."

The next band finished setting up on stage and Harvard watched out of the corner of his eye as the girl stood up and sauntered over to the dance floor and began once again writhing in rhythm to the music on the stage. He tried not to stare but again found himself transfixed on her dance and he once again heard the real world shut out and echo around him.

"...hey man, where'd you go?" Berkley snapped his fingers in front of Harvard's face forcing him out of his trance.

"Oh hey...sorry...I...um..." Harvard couldn't forge any words and waiting for his mind to come back to him. "Sorry I don't know what happened, I just kinda zoned out I guess; say anything important?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary. I solved the dilemma of world peace and everything but its cool no one really wants that."

"Yeah, you're right. Hey I need another beer, you want one?"

"Yeah, get me something hipster."

"PBR coming right up."

Harvard could hear Berkley laugh as he walked towards the bar, paid for the beers, and turned around, walking directly into the girl. He managed not to spill any beer on her and hoped that his tongue would not spill any inappropriate words as well.

"Hi, for me?" She laughed. She laughed harder when Harvard handed her one. She took it and brought it to her lips. He could see a smile hidden behind the clear plastic cup.

"I'm Harvard," he introduced himself.

"I'm Mallory but you can call me Yale. Everyone does.. My parents called me that but never told me why." She blushed at the way the words spilled out of her mouth to a complete stranger.

Harvard smiled and once again found his mind working in slow motion before he blurted out that it was nice to meet her.

"You too..." She hesitated, "I should get back to my friends..." Yale felt that sentence leave her mouth for an eternity and wished that she had not said it. She quickly added, "thank you for the beer, maybe I'll see you again?"

"Maybe," was all Harvard could muster. He felt his legs become rubber and as much as he did not want her to leave he wished she would do so quickly before he collapsed into a pile of beer and clothes.

He watched her slink away back to her group of friends as the world sped up around him. He sipped his beer and gained the strength to walk back to where Berkley stood.

"Hey man, where's mine?"

"Oh...uh...yeah sorry I forgot. Here I'll go back and get it."

"Nah it's alright. I need to go anyway, I have to be up in a few hours..."

Harvard and Berkley shook hands and said their goodbyes. Harvard stayed back and watched the headliner come on stage and start playing. He looked at Yale and smiled as she began dancing again but this time every few beats she would look back at him and a big smile would spread across her face. She did this too many times to count and Harvard suddenly found himself standing closer and closer to her, not sure if he had moved or if she had. He looked around and he was not in the same spot nor was she with her friends.

Yale turned around, happy to see the man she met at the bar behind her. She couldn't explain it but felt as if she were drawn to him and that the closer she was to him the slower the world around them moved. "Hi again," she said.

"Hi back," Harvard fumbled for words again before pulling Yale closer to him and staring at her for what felt like an eternity. She began dancing, slowly at first, pressing herself closer and closer against him.

Yale draped her arms around the shoulders and neck of Harvard and pulled herself closer, grinding herself as close as she could to him. She felt the music around her but danced to a different rhythm, one that only she and Harvard seemed to be hearing.

The world around them stopped moving but they did not notice. They danced together until after the music had stopped playing and the band got off stage. The lights came on and the bouncers and bartender announced last call.

"I think I've been waiting for you," Yale whispered.

"Sorry it's been a long wait, I got held up." Harvard tried to be smooth but failed.

Yale laughed and pulled Harvard closer. "Next time, don't keep me waiting."

She kissed him deep as her friends pulled her away and out of the bar. Their fingers holding on to each other until they could no longer.

Harvard stood in the room and stared blankly at the door. A bouncer nudged him and he started walking towards the door and outside. He got to the curb and sat down, trying to collect his thoughts and let his drunk wear off.

A car screeched to a halt somewhere across the street from him but Harvard barely noticed until the shadow of someone stood over him. He looked up to see Yale. She stared intently at him and handed him a piece of paper.

"I mean it. Next time don't keep me waiting." She said sternly with affection before turning around and getting back in the car with her friends.

Harvard unfolded the paper and looked it. It was her number. He folded it back up and put it in his pocket and started walking, vowing to himself to never let her have the agony of waiting again.

Forests of snow covered evergreens and chimney smoke
From wooden cabins; we wake to ice on our windows
Crisp fog in our hearts;
Curl up next to me
Light the fire and let it burn bright
You can stay the night if you wish
I'll be here in the morning, I swear I won't go if you say to stay
There's pancakes on the stove
And hot coffee percolating, just waiting to be kissed by your lips
Can you feel the chill in the empty rooms?
Maybe we should keep them company
Even if for a moment longer
Even if it means nothing at all..
Let's not waste this hunger
Learn to celebrate
Learn to hold hands so close
Share our breath as the cold moves in...
We've got places to be, people to meet
But we can pretend
Play songs with our imagination
There's another life far from here
We can avoid, we're not meant to keep taking up space
When the cold moves in
I know what you're thinking
I wish I were thinking it too
Does your body shiver next to mine
I'll hold you tight in my arms
Please hold me back and don't let me stray
I'm a wanderer but my feet are weary and my bones creak with age
Hold me tight all night
And I swear I'll stay if you ask me to
Winter's closing in, the leaves have fallen and littered the ground
Hibernation is the key for these dead months
We'll never leave the bed
Cocoon ourselves instead
The sun will rise, the sun will fall
I'll have you; you'll have me
Thru it all
Wrapped up in
A bear skin rug

You're the kind of girl I want to grow old with
Sitting on the front porch drinking sweet tea
Playing a song on the guitar
I wrote for you and me

You're the kind of girl I want to count the lines in your smile
Every beautiful crack that's aged with time
Knowing I put half of them there
And you put even more on mine

You're the kind of girl I want to dig into the earth with
Planting seeds and watching them blossom
I can hear you're small laugh
When mine don't grow as well as yours
I'll take you into my arms and kiss that laugh into a smile

You're the kind of girl I want to go on every adventure with
Travel the world by sea, by plane,
In a Winnebago stuffed with all our things
It will never be where we end up that matters
It will be you by my side with a smile in your eyes

You're the kind of girl I hope to grow old with
Lay down together one night after a good home cooked meal and a few drinks
You in my arms and me in yours
Smiles in our hearts
I'll give you one last kiss on your lips,
Another on the top of your head
We'll close our eyes and drift off into the morning of another life...

Where have you been?
You left the lights on
I searched high and low
For a note saying where you've gone
But your bags were packed
And there were tire tracks
In the driveway
From where you couldn't wait
To get away

Well I came home today
To a house so quiet
I thought I lost my way
Turned around and checked the address
Found myself in quite a mess
When I came home today
To a house so quiet

Some say its my fault
Others still say its yours
I don't know and I don't care
Couldn't we just agree
Home is where the heart is
But your head is resting elsewhere
And soon your heart will follow

Well I came home today
To a house so quiet
I thought I lost my way
Turned around and checked the address
Found myself a ******* mess
When I came home today
To a house so quiet

I packed away memories
And sold all the misfortunes
Put everything else out to the curb
Let someone else try their luck
Im walking away from a life
Built for two but billed for one

Well I came home today
To a house so quiet
I thought I lost my way
Turned around and checked the address
Found myself in some kind of mess
When I came home today
To a house so quiet

Well I came home today
To a house so quiet and empty
I looked around and saw all the memories
Buried like a tomb in every room
Well I came home today
To a house so quiet and empty
I closed the door with a heavy sigh
Locked it and went my own way