Maybe if all soldiers
had to look their enemy in the eye
before they killed them
they wouldn't

It seems that human beings
are full of hate
It breaks my heart
every single day and
makes me want to run away
to a cave in the mountains

Smoke too much
Eat too little

hacking coughs rack my body
forcing sleep to evade me
just give me some loving company
please
please
please

I like 40's
you like 40's
we should drink 40's together
40's ounces of malt liquor
a couple sips and I be feeling better
once I got one down let's crack another
let's drink some 40's together

mumbled words induce a trance
a sullen glance at annoyance
then decide on smoky existence

foggy images invade my sleep
I groggily creep into a new day
then fade, transparent, shade
flirting from bed to bus
bus to desk and back again
am I like the crew seen
by the Mariner in his Rime?
Has the flow of sublime powers
slipped like a frog to water
left me feeling, further and
further?

Something is missing

I don't even have words
We crested a mountain
In down pours and
60 mph winds
now I'm home
Wrapped in clothes
and blankets
full of
memories

how many times have I quit smoking
just to burn my insides out again
revert to a bad habit that cages me
in a pen
it feels like being loved
it feels like loving
deep breaths and a spinning head
it feeds a hunger
that has been long left unfed

I didn't mean to
take a piece of you
much less such an important
component of your circulatory system
how does your blood pump
from head to toe?
why did you let it go?
My hands are soaked in its
blood
staining my pillows so
I'll mail it to you
by plane,
I can say
I gave you one last flight
before
leaving

I think I'd do pretty well
as a functioning drunk
I wouldn't have too much
wouldn't take it too far
wouldn't drive a car
I'm content with the bus
I like seeing all the faces
even though no one
looks up from their phone screen
I'm good at pretending
we all connect somehow
like we were all friends
in some other time and place
I'm more friendly
when I'm not sober
feel closer to happy
I don't mind being a bit shabby
maybe I'll go buy a beer
maybe I'll go buy a bottle
maybe I'll just go

Tonight I hope to dream
of riding fog
out to the sea
where the waves will
greet me
swell up
accept me to the deep

Loneliness rests in my chest
garbed in drab grey
breathing salt water into my blood

I'm a wreck
it feels so real
in a facade
It's like breathing underwater

There's comfort in crashing
or so you said,
I've crashed and burned
and risen up again,
but I like rock bottom
just as much as floating on clouds,
being in the pits is easy
no reason to get out,
I've lost myself

My greatest worry is that
no one will ever love me
I try to tell myself that
it's over rated
Some where in my bones
I swear it's been fated
that I'll sleep alone on the couch
till the day my lungs give out

I clutch at every act of kindness
afraid they will see my spineless
self-conscious
I'm haunted by things that aren't dead
just floating in my head
I guess I've said
what I came to say
Now it's back to another day
of being just
O
K

I drove today, down black and yellow
snakes, houses lined the banks
of the concrete river the snake
slithered into,
children played and parents watched,
I was revving and gunning and lost,
not on the streets, in sheets that smelled like someone
far behind me, in eye water and lilacs,
or two lips,
Then I parked the car,
shut the door,
and fell to a puddle on my
bedroom floor,
I am great, I am hollow,
I am wretched, I am hollow,
Let me evaporate
Let me evaporate,
please,
Let me evaporate

on the cusp of being Vegas bound
with a car full of old friends, howling like hounds
yet somehow it hangs heavy on my heart
as if this is the last time that things will feel
almost like the used to back in highschool
and ever after the sounds of our laughter
will fade further and further
as we drift apart
like leaves resting
on water

Roused from sleep by the sound of sobbing,
I reached out for my sweet,
wondering over the wetness in her eyes.
Her cries filled the dark room
as she shook.
"His face, his face," she mutters into her hands.
That crook, that fiend,
that stain on society.
He is unconcerned, free, happy,
while she has terrors, anxiety.
I want to tell her that one day
he will get what's comin' to him,
that, inside, he knows he is ****,
that he will suffer in some way.
maybe today, maybe tomorrow,
maybe next year,

But then, my heart crumples in fear,
because there is no guarantee.
Instead I mumble.
"If we see him,
I will punch him in the face."
Violence with violence,
is there any other way?

Fine sand grains coat my toes
as pure, crystal waves break,
playful, ancient, against the shore.

The swaying plink of reggae guitar
bounces over the sand,
lulling a laze in my core
then emanates out across the beach,
past the break,
and out to sea.

Drift wood fences
protected the garden
complete with iron gate
and a little man
whose whole life is to wait.
The frame, sleeping against
the fence
has an empty mind
much like mine
kept safe with ivory fences
and organic gates
envious of the Waiter
who gets to stay here forever
and
                            wait...

It hangs from my shoulders,
not torturous, but not forgiving,
my camping chair groans
under our combined weight
in the evening,
quite the opposite of merriment
it is never fleeting
a constant cloak
partially soaked with choked words,
a strikingly dissonant chord
accompanied by a melody
"It's high time to hit the road again
it's high time you leave."

My heart is a watering can
with patched up holes.
There is rust around its edges
but it's full to the brim.
I've poured it out
over dry dirt;
nothing ever sprouted
save a few shoots that soon shriveled.
I refilled it each time, trying a new.
Finally, I've tipped it,
sprinkling over my love for you,
and to my deepest delight
a garden grew.

this last week
has me toasted and beat
sweatpants, same **** sweat shirt,
untied shoes on my feet
I dreaded every time I had go out
and cried with joy
each time I was back
in my
sheets

The wind howled after the divorce,
debris flew about in hordes
and I simply couldn't hold my myself in place.
Sure, I learned to navigate treacherous terrain
with sure-footed grace,
Everyone around weathered the winds
with the same style, same half smile,
all saying, "It will just be just a little longer."
Years after I'd given up, become numb to the rain,
you walked by with an umbrella,
on your way somewhere, seeking more permanent shelter.
You stopped and offered for me to join you
under the umbrella's cover,
even though it was a tight squeeze for two.
Gentle, powerful, miniscule, monumentous,
I love you.

A rocky, wavy buffet
served out on the water today.
Waiting on the whales,
but their hiding,
or sleeping,
or swimming away.
In the misty distance waits Diamond Head,
looking out on us,
unassuming.
Take a dive
in the Hawaii ocean.

I should see a foot doctor.
My knees ache,
and it ain't like I've been
standing up for myself too much
or sitting down too long.
But they sing their song of pain
again, and again, and again.

I don't pen anything anymore,
maybe a jot there or a line here,
so am I a writer?
How long does it take a "while"
to become a "used to"?
I'm no Du Fu.
I'm no Li Bai.
I should say goodbye,
smile and wave as writing
passes me by.

Numb nostrils,
jittery tongues,
swarming the cutting board.
Sharks, whose blood lust
shot off the charts
with the sight of one little baggie,
gnash their teeth
"Pour it out! Line it up!"
"Here's yours!"
"I can't feel my teeth!"
all caught on the reef
thrashing for another dose.
Who am I to judge with this
white gold
in my nose.

It's all about that
                                                                ­               Whump!
It shakes the chest so
hard you can't catch your
                                                            ­                    Whump!
breath
Yup, that's it I flew the nest
                                                            ­                    Whump!
Making my own plans but
I can't pull away from that
                                                            ­                    Whump!
I'm an alien on a spaceship
charging up that engine
                                                          ­                      Whump!
Steering straight toward that sound like
                                                            ­                    Whump!
I hunger for that sub noise
rumbling, I'm addicted to that
                                                            ­                     Whump!