The verbose ramblings of memory’s script,
A loquacious brimming cup to which I bid myself sip,
An evanescent longing to drink deep and ponder,
These dreams of expectation I contemplate no longer.

Time has past from my sinuous youth,
A spiraling existence of loosing tooth after tooth,
From virtuous ****** to gorges of shame,
Extensive transformation allows little to remain.

Musing of tomorrow and what turns it might take,
Thoughts to be built and then several to eradicate,
Perpendicular arms stretched out skyward,
Ranking arrogance next to coward.

The simple silence of presence’s suspense,
Listening for something lacking in substance,
A quiet moment I accept as does come,
For such a chance as this occurs consequently seldom.

"Worthless waste of space!"
"You thief of my fresh air!"
Useless to the entire world.
Drop dead! No one will care!

Can you feel the hatred baby?
The heated ache inside?
The pulse that beats incessantly?
The disgust I do not hide?

A soul that's non-existent.
No conscience left inside.
If not for jail time, baby,
I'd **** you for my pride!

Imagine an enduring torture,
And the pain that will ensue,
Cause Karma's got a lovely way,
Of catching right up with you.

gun squad

we were death
wandering the hills.

pieces of puzzles
out of time and place.

we were worlds lost
beyond
sound and sense,

stumblings on ridge lines
looking for something
to ****.


        we were empty-eyed
        birds of prey,

        locked to earth
        under the weight of packs
        and guns
        and ammunition,

        trying to find wings
        that would fly us home.

My age alone must tell you
I cant be all "that" good
not exactly Sweeney Todd
but not quite Robin Hood

But a nice-ish guy I must surely be
as I sometimes come in last
and as for the good ones dying young
thats a test I think I've passed.

When good hot tea
Encountered cream;
When passioned truth
Met passioned dream;
When all the sky
Met all the sea...
And I met Katie;
She met me.

When good fried fish
First met with chips;
When longing lips
Encountered lips;
When squirrel once
Met silver fir...
Katie met me.
I met her.

it's been four years,
give or take.

i still drive down streets at night,
see one [or many] go out,
smile, and think of you.

i remember you telling me,
"when i die, i want to have control...
over something mundane, over a
small thing no one would notice."

i said you were crazy for planning
that kind of futuristic *******.
"you'll change your mind,
by the time you die."
that's what i said.

you died two years later, and ****.
**** if you didn't have control.
two years after that, i saw it.
a streetlight clicked off right as i drove beneath it.
it happened at the next one, the next one...
and at the next one? only a flicker.

you always loved ******* with me.

it's been two years since the first light,
but four years since you took control,
and didn't even say goodbye.

it's been four years, and i've lost track.
i've lost track of sips and blinks and tears.
all i can seem to keep track of now...
is how many streetlights go out in a row.

five.