1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6
two bones and two bowls
legs like twigs
and the only thing that
makes it feel like
Saint Paddy's Day
is my corned beef sandwich

I had that dream
with Sydney all close to me
and today two street signs stood out
what did they say?
The top one was my name
and the one right below was hers
I sat on the curb
head in hands
"When does this end?
When does this end?"
Every corner I turn is a reminder
smashing **** up in the grinder
but her
but her
what the ****, why does she linger
is it because I haven't loved since?
I just want to rinse my hands
get rid of her name
it's a a sick game this world plays
let me break the rules
let me cheat
so I can get her syllables
out of my cheek

Glass, shattered, scattered,
blasted over the concrete.
A forgotten ketchup packet,
never knowing the sweet release
of being squeezed over fresh fries.
Bricks printed with names, donors,
good deeds in memory.
A bustling street, not crowded,
but busy, whirling and rushing.
The occasional feet, sport-shoed
or slippered, or booted,
crunching past the shattered glass.

I ache for the pinch
of the coiled steel beneath
each finger tip
pressing down sloppy
thoughts and sheepish
wishes.
The polished red wood
sliding across my palms
each pluck sending out
the perfect tone to settle
qualms
and topple empires
while building up cardiac muscle
never mind the fumbles
caused by unuse and long nights
of abuse
But even if I had the strings
it wouldn't change a thing
not a thing

sober up
dust off
the dirt won't bury you
yet

It's a terrible struggle
between
knowing what is just
and fighting for it
or
knowing what is just
and giving up

20
seems like the end of the line
to me.
Car crashes, bad habits, white rabbits
will reduce me down to just a spec of debris
chillin' in a petri
                               magnified
                           by                   a giant
                        eye        st           aring
                             wi                 th
                                   disdain.
"Helicopter pilot? Yeah right"
hit me like the last thing through a bug's mind
when it splats.
                           Its own ***.
Switched my postion from
                                                s
              ­                                  t
                             ­                   r
                                                a
              ­                                  i
                             ­                   g
                                            ­    h
                                                t
A student

                                 p
to drop out flying u
Eyes down. Laying          to keep on track
                                  low
blinded, cataract, stepped out in traffic
                       splat
like that bug again
or maybe more like promotion
Brand New Adventure
                                                I've seen the way the world
                                                turns
     ­                                                      I don't want any p a r t

I look back sometimes
at my life
my small time here
the whole road has been unclear
my decisions never end up
how I imagine
it's like I'm still running away
from a home that doesn't exist
at least not anymore
my feet ache
my back hurts
my head feels old
pretty drunk girls annoy me
I'd rather have someone
do the twist across from me
than shake their ***
I pass my cigarette from
hand to hand
pondering plans and how
they always get led off track
how did I end up here
hundreds of miles from
my birth place
my old friends scattered
my old ideals shattered
all the chances I took
and none of them mattered
back at square one
me, myself, and no one
the sun beats down
mocking me
as if it shines brighter to ask
"Why can't you see Dan?
Am I too bright?
Why can't you see?"

Tomorrow will be three weeks
since tobacco flowed past my teeth
*******, I'm stunned
although I'm now addicted to coffee

woods surrounded us
full of clatter and charm
we lay beneath a woven blanket
you fit snug into my arms
that dark hair twisting in my fingers
your laughter and gentle kisses
complimenting the words that
filled my ears
I hate it, I hate it
these dreams abound with you
I don't even love you anymore
I don't even care
I don't even remember how to love
so why do they haunt me?
why do they taunt me?
why can't I let them
go?

Divorce
It electrified
my impulses, demolished
my beliefs, left me
face down in bed, stark naked.
I can't go home anymore.

Give
I lived in your rib,
felt each breath you took with me.
You blew out a cloud.
"Sing some sorrow ocean blues.
We can drown holding hands, love."

Take**
She thought of me
as LSD, I changed her world
with guaranteed leave.
Absorbed me through her tongue tip,
expelled me with every spit.

Four nights
swallowed up
four days

Irish, a little girl,
escapes out a window
into a downpour.
She laughs with her hands up,
trying to catch each drop,
until her mom bursts out,
yelling, pulling her back.
The courtyard is still
except the rain
and muffled shouts,
"Why do you do this, Irish?
Why do you do this to me?"

All these people spilling,
letting themselves slosh over the sides,
tossing back courage,
tongues slipping secrets with a flourish,
nonchalant, letting things fly.

My lid, usually ******* on tight,
loosens slightly,
but not enough,
not like the rest.
I play things close to the chest.
Y'all don't need to know about me.
y'all don't need to hear my things.
I've got dead friends,
I've got self-inflicted scars,
I've got self-hatred, loathing, lies, wounds,
but I share them crucially.
Don't try and rouse it from me,
if I share,
I care,
otherwise,
beware.

Now it's my turn to rant
I'm so ******* tired of being
held to higher standards
of being the one with a halo
of being something more
I'm always labeled
song writer, poet, college student
I'm just Dan *******
just Dan
my blood runs red and blue
I just want to leave
I'm no one's savior
no saint
but I'm always painted up
some perfect picture for someone
some safe haven
some heaven
it's my turn to rant
I'm nothing more than
Dan

Garrison muddles in pharmaceuticals
dreaming health for long dead
friends
But he snorts away his hopes
following those white lines
down the coast

Tony jumps at riches
wants to support his poor parents
thinking money buys life
But he finds himself in ditches
after fun times that turn
into long nights

Ashley lost a father
younger than anyone should
wishing to bring back memories
But she drowns them away
in a sweet mixed drink
trying hard not to repeat

Will broke his hand
over the love of his life
so he pays for lunch in dimes
But he lives in a smoke
a slight smile of unknowing
despite being flat broke

And I...well I...
don't know who I am
I dabble in love, life, and sadness
But I always run out of time
so I got me a watch to keep track
but I forget to check it
because I want to rewind

Stella! Stella, I'm sorry
the last words before
I stopped
getting the dog
l          i            t

Love doesn't always triumph.
No matter how hard people try
it slips away or strangles them
or drives them crazy.
The fires fizzle out, the passion flies,
the love dies.
I know, I know,
I've seen it a million times,
with friends, with my parents, with myself.
It's scary as hell,
but with this one, this one,
oh it's something else!
If the flame gets low, why,
I'll chop down a forest,
I'll mine coal the rest of my life,
to keep fueling and fueling.
The odds seemed stacked against
romance lasting, resisting a pessimistic demise,
but this one makes it not matter,
shatters all expectations, opposes
those forces that tear, that rip,
that desperately wish to squish love
into a smudge on the pavement.
Yes, this one is something else
this one is a fairy tale

I've heard that in Norway
the attitude is
when you wait at a bus stop
you leave a few meters between
you and the next guy
I identify with that mindset
people don't get it
they take my kindness as closeness
lean on me when they're
too drunk
but I don't want to be touched
I'm not mean or anything
I just need space
and I won't start telling you
everything that happened
in my life
My roommates don't even know
that my grandma died
it's not my intention to hide
I haven't become distant
or cold
or shut in
right?

Being tied down
wasn't so bad
at least I knew who
I'd sleep next to.

They babble of shine
long lifed friendship
sharing shakes and
fries
But one mention of tires
and the babble
dries up and
dies

Another tomato
             splats to the
floor,
but I'm getting paid.

Tonight is one of those nights
rain beating out a rhythm
across the roof
Where I wish for just this night
once again I was sleeping
next to you

Hey Eddie,
       where are you tonight? I'm outside and my body aches. My feet are frozen too. Do you hate my cigarettes? I'm sorry I'm weak sometimes but I think you understand. I still haven't felt you, maybe once on the hill, but I live in Long Beach now. Not close to the hill or your home or our streets. Crazy huh? It's a long way from where I thought we'd end up. Do you remember how much you liked sushi? I had some today. It tasted like the river and the rope swing. I wonder if you would recognize me. I'm a mess Ed, a mess. I'm posting this on some website in hopes that it finds its way to you. I'll write it down too, then burn it over a mountain so the ashes might meet with yours. I don't know. I'm tired, so tired. Hey Eddie, where are you tonight?

Now I know why
tortoises move so
slow