a spider
crawled up my leg
a ******* spider,
daddy ******* longlegs

it came up my bare foot
from the tall grass
and I
slapped
and beat at it
until it was dead

sometimes my fear
is valid
sometimes my nightmares
are true
and most times
i should stop
one sentence before
i do

my gambles of bravery
fail with such easy grace
so i should hide
dug in sand
and buried face

i should keep myself
from beauty
stay to the
dreadful
horrid things

at least i won't
feel guilty
when the morning
church bells
ring.

I wouldn't give up drinking
but then again
you wouldn't ask
me to
and we could spend our
days
drunk on wine
and our nights
we could surrender
to the wild creatures
inside of us

i couldn't give up feeling
terrible
from time to time
but i wouldn't have to
since you bring me
peace
when i am drunk
and miserable

i could be a romantic again
like when i was
younger
before crushing hatred
of life
sank in
and ruined me

i could work
and not hate it
dance in front of oters
and not live a life
of pretending
i could do all of these things

in the bars
the dark and quiet bars
i can sit there drinking in the soft glow
of sixty watt bulbs
******* into ancient fixtures

and the bartenders will at least
tolerate me
so long as i don't fall
or drift to sleep
or scream
horrors
and such

and the bartenders will at best
be nice to me
and fill my glass
with whiskey
and maybe the ones
who are pretty girls
will smile at me

the smile of pity you would give
to a dog
or to me
or to a person who honestly
needs it
and is so unworthy
of it

in the bars
perched up on my stool
i am elevated
elevated above the horrible dirt
of the earth
the dirt i walk on
sleep on
dream of escaping
the dirt i am a part of
covered in
almost indistinguishable from

in the bars i am the god king
of the world i create
for and from myself
with the two square feet of bar-top
that is mine

and so long as i have money
and don't look too drunk
i can read for hours
in what light i can find
and not have to speak to anyone
or look at anyone
except the bartender
who wishes to trade no more words
with me
than necessary to order a drink
and most times
i wish
the same

I heard you laugh over the telephone
I wasn't speaking to you
but i can tell your laugh from a mile away
it hurt me and i knew i was being childish
but i couldn't help but think
why isn't it me making you laugh

i am selfish, its true, and i know well enough
to lambast myself for it
but i cannot deal with the mystery
that there is someone out there
who you might like better

not to say that there are not better men
you can throw a stone and surely hit one
but for once, and with you
i want to be the one that someone likes best

i want to still be drunk, to be a horrible mess
to be a monster still
fighting with myself
throwing punches made of bourbon and beer
and still have you usher me in when i return
tail stuck between my legs
i want to be there
for you to pity
and to laugh at my jumbled words
but I can't
so instead i will find a way to get drunk
and let that do the talking for me

it seems now the things we once shared,
the things i think we both felt
are gone
another lost thing in my life perhaps
the most precious of them all

I had held on so long
to the smooth feeling of your skin
the comforting warmth
that seems just to rise off you effortlessly

now I know at least
that there is nothing left for me
no kind past
which i can cling to
no safety net
below the wire which i walk

i want nothing more
than for it to be you and I
two trees each struck
by the horrid lightning of life,
fallen against each other
holding each other up
by their own faults.

this is what I wanted
but it seems like many things
what i want
is unreachable

I should have known better
than to have reached
for such a prize as you

i should have known
that despite your goodness
and your kindness
and all of our similarities
i am still
too much of a beast
too rough
too horrible
too lost
to find at last
some
peace

terror is a friend
a close one
the kind of friend
kind enough to warm me
away from the things
that might **** me

like places where people
are real people
not rotgut drunks
stuck in the mud
like me

the real people are the nightmare
without them
i wouldn't see what i don't have
or can't have
or shouldn't have

but the terror keeps me safe
drink up it says
then maybe the real people
might get blurry
and look more like me

then i can pretend
that i am them
that is what the terror
can abide