i'm a COOL baby,
i ride a motorcycle.
vroom vroom; i'm leaving.

how to write wit that resonates?
how can i break through to you?
what if i can't satiate
the reader's need for gloom and doom?
perhaps i want to write about
my dog and not my misery.
he's got a tiny snout! i shout.
he's small, yet long! i declare,
but no one seems to ******* care.

there is a look my mother wears
when she bears bad news,
like she is sorry to be speaking.
she reeked of sorrow and cheap *****;
her voice is ugly when its squeaking.
tears were flowing easy like good writing when she shut the door.
i took a bath to ruminate, and then i took a shower too,
i scrubbed and sobbed and scrubbed some more,
but nothing could clean me of you.

"A new dawn has dawned upon us,
like a spawned epiphany.
Spring has sprung, the snow has melted;
I've known love, but never felt it.
The gloom has gone, our days are brighter,
yet I've never been more tired.
Here we go again, like hamsters,
spinning in our endless wheels.
A brand new season, a brand new cancer -"

"Chill," she says. "Drink some chamomile."

frozen as a corpse
melting slowly
as a tortoise,
staring blankly,
no remorse,
solemn, silent,
almost done,
dying for
your bit of fun,
and still, still,
as the buried sun.

if you are afraid of boats
and afraid of swimming,
afraid of fighting a shark and
afraid of winning,
grow up.