You're so floppy.
Like a puppy,
all arms and feet
gangly, knobby.

We sit together
to work on work
but nothing gets done
it's all just talk,

Just stories about grandpas
from World War II
Freedom of love
Religious views.

And through it all
in your attentive eyes
I can see your heart
And can see how wise
You are for sixteen
And I'm twenty-nine
so that makes thirteen
years between us, christ.

I hope I see you down the line
Ten years, or twenty
And you're still just...fine
I fear for you in this terrible place
It's unkind to a gentle mind
It can shut down an open space.

But it feels like nothing
Could create a person
Not years or experience
With such clarity of vision
And depth of innocence
As you showed me today
Under the tent where we spent the day.

I believe in you.
And in who you'll become
You've already got the glue
Now you just need some
Confidence, but it's ok to be green
When the world is bright
And you're barely sixteen.

An oil spill
From a brain drain drill.

Whoops.

I didn't meant for my scoops of goop to fall in your soup.

So come on now, toss it all out.
Toss it out with the rest of that garbage,
that infected syringe.
We're better than this.

I prefer it chilled,
so would you mellow out?

There just isn't time for self-doubt.

Don't suicide.
Don't die.
Death is way overrated.
You don't rest peacefully
Rolling in the deep,
Or sit on clouds
Admiring the view
Below.
You're dead.
It's not a compromise
From our daily woes;
It's not respite
From our daily blows.
It's death.
And if you think
For one eternal second
You'll hover, ghost-like,
At your memorial,
And hear stories
About how great you are,
Were,
Or see your enemies cry,
Forget it.
You didn't get even
With anybody.
I suspect, if it's possible,
You wouldn't be interested
In us anymore,
Anyway.
You got dead.
Forever and ever.

Well, are you?
Did the news startle you
That things are a mess.
Gaza's imploding,
Palestine's exploding,
The Middle East could use some help.
In the Communist countries,
There's an electronic curtain
Keeping people out.
Planes go strangely missing
Over unknown ground;
Others don't go missing,
They're eagerly missled down.
There's millions starving
All around;
Meaningful work is hard to find,
Self-worth is in decline.
Under the steeple
There's fewer people,
But that was another time.
My bills are stacking,
We're seriously lacking
A government we can trust.
By any account, our sorry world
Is rightly ****** right up.
If you're not ******,
Then you've missed
The news at six o'clock.

You said, in exasperation:
     You know what I want!
Therein lies the problem
With our relationship.
I do.

I will let you win this arm wrestle
So that I can win your heart
Girls are meant to be pretty
Girls shouldn't be too smart
Because boys are meant to be strong,
Only girls can be weak.
Isn't this what you've heard since before you could speak?
But does being female have anything to do with wearing pink?
Why isn't it okay for him to shed a tear?
This is becoming a cycle I fear!

I have a one track mind
and its in the gutter
With whiskey breath
and a bit of a stutter
I type at a desk
where the beer bottles clutter
the scattered ashes
spins and dashes
in the winds of the summer
Theres a stain on my bed spread
from the girl last week
I should probably wash it
its where I rest my cheek
I dont own much
but amps and guitars
with a whole lot of memories, debris, and scars
and wouldn't trade one bit
to become who you are.

I curbed my drinking
cleaned up most of my filth
how uninspiring

Last night
by telepathy,
I sent sparks your way,
one hundred million volts.

I shot them from my fingertips,
watched them arc up,
shoot deep into space.

And did you feel
more alive,
somewhat jolted,
any small piece
of my electricity
at all,
Miss Pretty-Face?