I watched a play on Words
And you watched me jump on conclusions
I guess my bushes are worth birds
And your mixing good solutions

You let your eyes cross a road
That led pencils into paper
I get past the fact my frog was towed
To let the fire escape her

Our suits look so similar
I guess we can call it a tie
I could not forgive a helping hand
When your all time low is so high

My factory is dripping with sweaters and books
Both of which have been red
My eye is ugly from the way it looks
And I've never seen living so dead

I was supposed to be better
This time, I don't remember
If it was May, maybe September
Either one still held regret

A lighter I did lend her
As her eyes reflect the ember
I thought I'd might befriend her
Despite the cigarettes

There we sat, in a car
Driving here, driving far
Drowning gin in different bars
Words come through in blurs

I watched the lights, she watched the stars
speeding past the other cars
metal smashed, we flew apart
the blood on the dash was hers

Through all the trials never heard
Through the fade of morning birds
Through the pain of time obscured
I still have four stone walls to write these words

(In progress)

It's beginning
to look
a lot
like
last Christmas

The path was lonely
but
company is not too hard to find these days

Some sweaty rags and a
patched army coat
emerged from a dark
alleyway and
waved me in his direction

he approached me
with his friend
which I couldn't see

but it was dark

so I think
along with some money
I will give him the benefit of the doubt
since it is too typical
to assume that if a homeless man is talking
it is to himself

He began to whisper
and inch towards my face
His breath smelled something
that could only
be described in eulogy
Underneath his tumbleweed beard
were deep ridges
filled with dirt and sweat
and wear

It seems
the Grand Canyon had a son
and disowned him

His advice hit my face
with golden plaque
from the gaps of his teeth
Things will get better soon, my friend
some guffaws and a handshake later
he jumped back off his feet
and into the dark

I continued home
to my own boxed alleyway
thinking it was five minutes
well spent

If I ever went back to that
dark of a street
I will hope that he is gone
to find a brighter one

I drain the cold bath
I'm in, and drain the glass
bottle in my hand
both filled with a dark liquid
I watch the last swirl of water
struggle to get through
the rusted drain

why am I in this god-awful
motel

I know why

I have addictions that drove me here
Drove her away
Drove my hands
to smack my children
Drove these tears
screaming down my face

I make a list of things to blame
and exclude myself of course
but what does it matter

What does this poem matter?
I don't actually have a family
I don't have kids
and I don't even like to drink.

Ask people what animal they would be
if they could be anything

more often than not they'd prefer to be some type of bird, which I heard is a sign that they feel trapped in their life and are in need of some sort of freedom

I understand it

but still find it strange in a way
with us being at the top of the chain and all
how much more capable we are of being free
and are even spared the absurd beaks

but birds can fly anywhere
and do what they actually want

I wonder who has been telling these people that they can’t

I don't know
I said I wanted to be a bear
what does that say about me?

I stare above
my cold coffee
and warm cereal
at the blank wall in front
of me. I miss you.
Or at least I think I do
I don't know
it's hard to tell these days
I was miserable with you
and without you I'm
bored.
It may take a few more
lonely breakfasts
before I figure
out which one is
worse.

Make sure you write your poems
With a typewriter
on some
Archaic
Obscure
Unconventional
Peice of paper

The idea of depth
Is more important
Than what actually lies beneath

I slip on my cardboard
shoes, and slide
out of my
cardboard box
I walk
to the same corner
and hold that cardboard
sign

I watch
car after car
after car
after car

I am the master
of closed windows
and straight
awkward posture

I'm the problem
that isn't there
because you ignore it

I'm thankful for my long
nails to pick
sticky ashtray change
off the pavement

I put the change
in a small
cardboard jar
I found behind a warehouse

It's a very nice jar
it hold things together well
it is well crafted

sure

it is no glass jar
or diamond
or gold
but a jar just the same

and someone threw it
away

You'll never know
how much it meant
that you pieced my
caterpillar
back together
piece by piece
the time
the f r u s t r a t i o n
You must have put into
each delicate detail
the thin fragments
the spontaneous glue
I never had the words
at such a young age
to express any form of gratitude
or understanding
and I barely do now
I can only say
I will never be more excited
for show-and-tell
for
the
rest
of
my
life.

You said
"I feel like
the Earth; heavy
and destructive,
surrounded by
infinite darkness
and nothingness,
light years from
anything beautiful"
I said to stop
being so dramatic
and then
gave you some facts
about the universe
and astronomy
an other irrelevant things.
I might have even
compared you to Newton.
I tell people
"I don't know why
she doesn't talk to me
anymore"
even though
I really do.

you
dance
like
the
night
and
your
love
is
just
as
bright.

This is all here
But there

A shadow on your silver
Ware

A conversation with no heat

A warm toilet
Seat

And then there's
More

We're uncomfortable so
Pour
Some
More.

You sip through your Shiraz
and spill it
on the white leather seat of
my sofa
Your laughter echoes down
the hall
the walls find it contagious
but my brain
my brain
my brain pulses with anger
bursting to the surface
of my skin
back and forth
back and forth
down the hall
I get the stain remover
and finally enter the family room
and you're not there
no one is
and neither is the stain
I remember I'm alone
wishing these things
a big
white
empty house
wishing to get angry
with meaningless
stains

and you're never there
where are you

No
Fifty miles an hour
Is not fast enough
And neither are my thoughts
When you approach me
You change me

Let's adjust our mirrors

I question my identity
Around others
I was never fast in gym class
So I pass you in the fast lane
Please honk
Turn on your brights
I drove my car off a cliff
Just to write about it
The page is white

Let's switch lanes again

This pencil is writing me
It's a keyboard though
Be real
Nothing's actual
Just
Digital.

I tossed away decades
Of cassette tapes today
No one has the means to play them

My mind is a floppy disk
Outdated
Useless
A source of laughter
At me, not with

But it's still meaningful
I'm ranting
Check your blind spot

What was I...
Oh, yes!
Cars.

Cars are pretty nice
You can shift
Your identity into it

Which is fine
Just
Leave the top down

Words and lines and
Lines and tatters
All my books and
All that matters
Lie in bottom of the
Washing bin
Burning

Well
Let's start over then
Shall we?

I hear the humming
of your voice
in the blurred darkness
behind my phone's screen
I look occasionally
And smile
And nod
You mention a city
something like where you were from
I like Greg's photo
You blah further about
your parents or something
I text Jerry about a recipe for a good salsa
I begin to talk
To your glowing
distant face
This goes on for quite some time
We sit in silence
in the backseat of the cab
tapping frantically
religiously
communicating
somewhere else
I hug her goodnight
and suggest to meet again soon
But
I probably won't call her
We had nothing in common

I sit on rocks pondering
Life's
Big Questions

What is it that makes
A
Person a person?

And why did that
*****
Have to leave me?

I skip a stone across the water
And
Watch the ripples meet

If I had known
Then
What I know blah blah blah

If I could only see
You
For who you really are

And if I could only
Die
Without complaining about it

I've come to know the
hospital well
the stale smells
the nurses names and stories
the hand sanitizer
the countless quiet
nervous
elevator rides
stuff like that
I could even write a full review
of the cafeteria food
should this hospital
have it's own newspaper.
There's been too many sad days
but I find myself laughing
as she shows off her blonde
extravagant wig
The doctors and nurses
Fall in love with her
her energy
her aura
As most people do
They laugh with her
And cry with her
And hope with her
People come in
They say
things will be fine
things will get better
My mom grows weary
She's heard this since stage two
They say
keep up the fight
But seen as a fight
Her getting sicker only implies
she is not fighting hard enough
that she is losing
nothing can **** hope quicker
but she shrugs it off
She doesn't need some
greeting card or nylon balloons
or some
half-assed healer
or some gurus blowing
smoke from burning sage
She needs authenticity
connection
meaning
She needs to be told things are awful
And probably won't get better
She needs complete vulnerability
on both ends
She needs real
Which is hard to find
in a lot of places
and faces
and words
an hour with her though
she would get it out of you
the 'you' that you didn't even know
she touched lives beyond
whatever I ever imagined capable
There are many ways
I wish to be like her
but most
is to be able to smile
as real
and transparent
as she did
when I am about to die.

I did not send you
a card, but perhaps i'll write
something on Facebook

Your pithy one-liners
move nothing but mouths. But
they make good wall art

The homeless man begged
for change, but not the kind you
keep in your pocket

The Cow showed up late
for his shift at the office.
They slaughtered his ***

A thousand sunsets
the clouds burn up over them
I'm busy texting

On planet naked
I met a girl that I liked
She's an X-Ray star

The tree waved goodbye
To old friends, some autumn leaves
Waving killed some more

"Dinner time!" The kids
shovel seconds, and want more.
Their trash could touch space

leaves fall to the ground
and soak into the soil;
kids play on their graves

cereal is glad
to be so sweet and crunchy
'til it meets the milk

ants kiss my coffee
mug, coffee swims inside. I
am not a writer

The dishes smash against
The wall
The neighbors peek through
the blinds
to try and witness the
un-normalcy
of
shouting and fighting
in a well-respected
upper-class
community.
Those neighbors are posers though
They fight too
Just silently
And over the span of
a few decades
Either way the cops show up to
better the situation.
Her hands pack her bags
As her eyes unpack their tears
I won't need a grinch this year
I've killed my own Christmas.

As I put down my phone
turn off my television
take out my headphones
close my laptop
and look up
into the distance
at the trees bending
with the wind
the clouds smashing together
in a dance with passing planes
and wild birds
in one
massive
chaotic tapestry
I'm reminded
what really matters,
and it isn't me

Your fingers laced
in your blanket
I press it close, just to
know your scent
I adore
the family of gnomes
and
the jungle
of stuffed animals
parading about you
as you dance
and stretch
through countless books
of wizardry
or wonder
or Sigmund Freud's
interpretation of
dreams.
My dreams are
Quite translucent,
I dream of you.
I dream of the little things.
Your placid hands peeling
tangerines, or
swimming in a pool
of jelly beans.
I dream in memories
of us, like
the time I dropped you
on our first date
and we both sat there
laughing at how awful
and beautiful it was
on that mountain
underneath the smoggy
night sky

But here I lie
Awake
And so do you.

I would
never
consider myself
by any means
one fit for
the military
though
now and again
I still may
find myself
taking orders from
Major Depression.

I tighten the knot on
My tie
I brush the shoulders off
On my jacket
And rap to it
This interview should be better
Than the last one.
I'm hoping the manager
Will realize I've been a loyal
Safeway customer since
As long as I can remember
I swallow the pinball
In my throat
Hatched from
Nervousness
Or
Nervousity
Or
Nervousonification
Or, I don't know
I'm nervous.

For some reason he shuts
The blinds, this is more
Serious than I thought
I suppose.
I sit frozen in my chair
Like the Lincoln Memorial
Except I don't stand for anything.

I step out into the warmth of
The real world
I grab a brick and throw it
Through the front wall of glass
Protecting the grocery shoppers
From the sun
I stop over at the cafe
For a milkshake
Strawberry
I went to a different store
To get the laundry detergent
She told me to get
Because we had a coupon
But I forgot the coupon
So I just went home

It was a busy day today.

Her hazel eyes stare
as she gently bites her lip.
******* beautiful.

On a ship
I pretend to be
peter pan, jousting
flying, planning
to never
land

Walking downtown
I pretend to be
a building
sure
that actually
reflects
my culture

In the forest
I pretend to be
a dinosaur
roar
see the meteor
but still enjoy
the scenery

I'm at a party
I pretend to be
myself.

We catch each other's faces
From other ends of the store
We're walking towards eachother
I remember us in grade school
Young
Naive
Giggling about which girl
was the cutest
Like six year old men do
Learning math
And grammar
And art
And other life lessons
Which unconsciously stuck with me
And about friendship
I knew you then
Like a brother
So now here we are
After some years
Running into each other at a grocery store
I wonder why you're in town
I wonder how your life has been
I wonder what happened with your parents
There's so much to catch up on
So much to laugh about
And to cry about
We're pretty close now
I shove into my pockets for my cell phone
You stop and shuffle and look away
You pretend you need to go down a different aisle
I pretend to look at canned soup
As if neither of us noticed
You think I might not remember
You think I don't know your name
And possibly you have forgotten mine
It is better to ignore these things though
For the sake of a small possibility
It could have been uncomfortable
And real

Your eyes are like the stars
okay
Such crimson fabric strewn in waves
sure
I watch you dance in the night
alright
My dear, the universe is ours
not bad
Our love is a thunderstorm, you're an insideout umbrella
why not
Beauty thrills me, poetry kills me
of course
Your heart is a moon that no man's landed
could I get that one framed?
Our eyes dance, our lips take naps
yeah
Did I compare anything to stars yet?

I know I should have
called you back
but
for some reason
I
just

didn't.

Nothing seems
to be
more insulting
than to be shushed
as a deaf child
by your parents
because you are disturbing
those around you
that have the gift of
hearing.

You finally said something
to me.
There I stand
thinking
of what to say

I could say something funny
or clever
or cocky
or rude
or kind

The things cycle in my head
But too much time has passed
I have said nothing
nothing

nothing

anything would have been good
to prove I'm alive
that I am a person

but you'll only remember
me as the one with nothing
to offer

You've summed me up
In an empty nutshell

I watched your hair spin
as you walked away

I whispered a
"Goodbye"

I could
Talk about nature
Or give you my opinion on a subject
I could describe the
Unmistakable beauty
Of everything that is and ever was
Before us
I could touch your heart
With the tip of my pen
I could arrange words from my
Internal thesaurus
on this very page
That could move you
And change the way you see the world
Or even yourself!
I could
But
I’m tired
Maybe tomorrow

The world is spinning
Square
The sun is searing
Stare
My heart is beating
My stomachs eating
My lungs are breathing
Air

You have my number
Call
I haven't slept at
All
I sit in a chair
I sweat and I stare
Now here is where I
Fall

My other truck is one that works
My other sweater's warm

My other food is nutritious
My other bed is a mattress

My other family is alive
My other friend is close

My other heart's not bitter &
My other life is a good one

I asked if you had
a minute
you said sure
and you gave it
reluctantly
as it was spent
in silence.
I never
got the chance
to thank you
for the only
thing
you've ever given me.

I see your kids
running around the table
screaming
and crying
existing on some
hyperactive wavelength that
exhausted adults have
waived from their capacity.
You sat there
making an art out of tuning
them out.
Quite impressive really.
Not so much could be said
for everyone else in the room though;
the rolled eyes
or deep, hollow groans
cursing your parenting skills.
The hell with them anyway.
You sit and enjoy your tortellini
and your fifth glass of wine
no frown or smile just
the blankest face
I've ever seen in my life.
Blank as,
not so much a canvas,
for a canvas was built for
the intention of being
transformed by color.
But you,
your face is the white slate
face of an unclimbable
mountain. It is
the forgotten
empty
dusty
journal of your parents,
stuffed in an attic.
Your face doesn't ask
for pity
or ridicule,
it only asks to uphold
it's sanity amidst
all the struggles
this life has to offer.

You'll get through though,
and so will they,
Sometimes it is at
the very bottom
where people discover
their greatest strengths.

If I could make it so
This
Night sky would be endless

I could write you a
Poem
You wouldn't understand

The tide is rising, it
Doesn't
Matter to us yet

There's so much room to
Make
Stars in the sky above

What marvelous delights! Though
Any
Thing has no taste

It's in you now I feel a
Sense
You are lost in all your maps