I'm waving my arms like people do
when they've leaned too far out over the edge,
and a helpful branch is just out of reach.

You've stretched out calmly, soaking the sun,
looking at me with your head cocked
and wondering why I won't come sit down.

I find myself
wanting to change,
everything.

I want to go
back and do it all over,
again.

Please,
just this once.
Don't listen to me.
I wouldn't change it.

It made me who I am
today.

I want to walk
over cobblestone roads.
Gaze over red clay tops
and
breathe foreign air.

Remember my
favorite wooden bench,
under the old tree,
dying.
Where I watch the water
speed by,
such is life.

Bolted firmly to the ground,
keeping me from...
Bridges in the foreground,
pale blue
summer sky.
Cloud creepying over
the city.
Whispering,
watching.

A work of art,
one of the finests I've ever seen.

A momentary vision
of something I did not
appreciate.

Next time...

I rubbed his foot.

I’ll tell you how this poem ends.
It’s with a hard knock and
a whole lot of painful questions.
Who? What? Where? When? Why?
But no how?

That’s a secret.

This poem ends with like taking advantage
of you,
then leaving while you’re still asleep.

It never really goes anywhere.
Sizzle Sizzle Pop Smack.
Just like that,
this poem flashes before your eyes.
Blaine would be proud.

I never read poems til the
bitter end.

No, I skip ahead,
even in my own poetry.
First sentence
to
the last word.

What does that say about me?
Like I said,
more questions.

Impulsive?
Maybe.

Let’s end it here.
Would that be the cowardly thing to do?
Or would it put this poem out of its misery?
It is starting to drag its feet.

I believe it is time.
Fingers crossed,
behind the back.

Click Click Bang Bang.

Don’t you hate it when poems drag on,
word after
word after
word.

Finished.

The clock rocks
tick tock
all the way to paradise.
While you look,
at old pictures of
situations you can no longer
remember.
In a flash they are
gone.
Long and
short hands
motioning that
your life is draining.
And the blackbird sings,
but only for a moment.
Knocking over the hourglass,
shattered time.
Oh, the
humanity.
Ring the gong,
sending shockwaves through
the world.
The global population's ear's
perk up,
listening,
waiting.
For the catastrophe at hand
to begin.
Monuments shatter and crumble,
the mind begins to deteriorate.
And the clock,
ticks
on
and
on.

Jealous Again

I put Black Flag, Jealous Again on the turntable
It spins and I spin
I hold my hands to my face like I have a mic
I feel like spitting as I pump my fist
MAYBE I AM JEALOUS
Jealous of the guy who has two kids
Jealous of the guy with a job
Jealous of the guy with a car
I put Black Flag, Jealous Again on the turntable
It spins and I spin
I make faces and show my teeth
My grill needs work
MAYBE I AM JEALOUS
Jealous of the guy who has nice teeth
Jealous of the guy with six pack abs
Jealous of the guy with a full head of hair
I shouldn't be jealous
I have me
My values
My family
My friends
I even have Black Flag, Jealous Again on vinyl
I have everything I need
I shouldn't be jealous

Too much of a good thing
They say it is possible
Why?
How?
If something is good then more of it should be better
No?
Why not?
Who made the rules?
Too much of a good thing confuses to me
I want more
Why can't I have it AND be happy?
Too little of a bad thing
That's a possibility
We wouldn't want that
But to little of a bad thing is good
I know
It's confusing
You've heard it before
Same story
No
Not this time
Something is different
Good things are in demand
You will appreciate it more
Supply AND demand
Bread tastes good when you are starving
This is not economics
This is life
It is here
It is now
It is
I am hungry
Give me more
Feed me
Make ME happy

I can never find anything to do anymore
I am ALWAYS bored
I drink another soda as fast as I can
Boring
I smoke another cigarette as fast as I can
Boring and bad for my health

I used to drink and do drugs
It caused a lot of problems but I had fun
At least then I had something to do
At least then I could make myself stupid
Do stupid things with an excuse
At least then I could be interested in menial things


The most interesting thing I did today was take a shower
I was actually kind of happy standing there under the water
But only an idiot would stand in the shower all day
I could take up *******
That might be fun
I could do that in the shower

I rarely smile anymore without faking it
I smile when I see a small child smile
But I don't have children around me that often
and when I do, they are not always smiling
Often they are screaming
Screaming children are not fun

Some people seem like they are happy all the time
How do they do it?
Is it because they are stupid?
I like to think so
I like to think that I am the norm
Nobody should be happy too often

I just want to be happy a little bit
Find a few things to do that don't bore me to death
I wanna be interested in life
I want to have a reason to go to bed early
I want to have a reason to wake up
I want to have a reason

Today I will just have to settle for being bored
For being uninterested
For being unhappy
But it would be nice not to have to dumb down to cheer up
I am sick of dumbing down
I am kind of sick of life

Maybe tomorrow I will remember a good reason to live
Maybe tomorrow I will find something new
Maybe tomorrow somebody will suprise me
Maybe not
But I do still have hope
That just maybe things will change

Another one gone without a tear,
or even a frown,

What do I keep doing wrong?

He says he can’t voice his thoughts
But wrote me a lullaby about landing planes
And the first time I heard it my feet were on his dash
And the windows were down.
He says he can’t voice his thoughts
So he steals mine and feels guilty
“I love you too’s” and “I miss you more’s”
“To the moon and back, baby.”
I know he can’t voice his thoughts
My stomach ties when his tongue does
High and dry, just try for me, darling,
Try to tell me everything I need to hear.
He can’t voice his thoughts,
But he always has a bow in his locker
and some nights
I have strings too.