Sometime, I'll have a dream
A dream in which I'll be engaging in ***
With the loose folds of skin and cellulite
Around Maya Angelou's neck
I use the word engage b/c I don't think
It'll be  my idea or if I would even want to be a completely willing
Participant
You know how dreams go:
You're able to detach
So anyway, all the while she'll be reciting her verse
In that overly inflected, pretentious and annoying grandmotherly Huxtable
Tone she uses and
Right as the nauseousness becomes unbearable
And I fear I won't be able to keep the contents of my
Stomach from forcing itself out and onto her face
She starts to devour the entirety of my lower abdomen
The sickness I was feeling quickly dissipating and the
Realization that she's no longer speaking and merely
Gnashing, ripping and eating my viscera
I return to an almost homeostasis
A comfortableness



Copyright © 2009-Present

The mind does not reel
It Clacks
At or near the frontal lobe
A temple eroding, I suppose
Destroying by the speed of the whir
A millisecond vertigo
Terrorizes for seemingly endless minutes
Wrought iron right neck muscle
Climaxing in a hypnagogic spasm
That levitates the body for an instant

Copyright © 2009

It's not enough to merely speak w/ enthusiasm
Even most "actions" go unnoticed, unheeded
Hate to say it, a succession of blunt force
Possibly perceived as violent
Is necessary
Repeatedly
Or you could stop trying to impress on me
What you wish others would see as your
Personality
If you could do that, just that
I might try and help you.

Crawlspace of the Cranium
$2.00 / 11 poems
Copyright © 1996-Present

Moving,riding, dysthymically along
I semi-smiled at a ******* each block
Everytime we were made to stop
The attractive ones
The same broken clock
Giving the correct time twice
Once daily, again in the dark morning for twenty years
Christ
Sorry, no you don't qualify
I lied about the smile.

I had a dream and in it someone told me that you had died
In this dream I didn't ask why, figured i knew
Didn't want to press it
So having not heard from you for several months
You call me, really needing to talk, but you leave a message
Sorry, I was asleep, busy
Having this dream in which I'm told you're no longer alive
It didn't seem a wise thing to tell you next day
When I returned your call you said everything was fine
I knew you were lying and that to me, you were
Dead, at least unconsciously

Copyright © 2009

For the sake of this "conversation" (read: mild power struggle)
You're right. "I don't really mean all that"
I'll agree, concede....Pretend I do not
If it puts color back in your cheeks
And awakens your dead eyes
Sure, I'll fight the screaming of every
Fiber and cell in my body
Lie and say
"People are worth saving"

Copyright © 1996-Present

Depression is reading bad poetry
Written by merely dysthymic people
Depression is people which does result in
Hell  
Depression is the pain caused by people
Trying, poorly I might add, to articulate what
'Depression means to me'
Depression is tantamount to hunger
Something we all must suffer
Some will starve to death
You, my poetaster chum
Are only late to dinner
The pang will pass

Copyright © 1996-Present