Instead of wasting
your time looking
for princes
and princesses
endlessly stalking the
shadows of castles
you should focus
your effort on being
a *******
dragon.

Breathe fire from
your soul, kid.

We took turns
placing headphones
on each other and
plugging them into
our hearts in hopes
that we would be able
to hear all the things
we should have said

She is a beam
of light
whose radiance
strikes my eyes
and wakes me up
in the morning
and being awake next to her
is much more exciting
than being ensconced
in my dreams.

After a day
of pondering
I flew into
a frenzy,
burning books that
couldn’t help me
and so through centuries
of love poems and stories
I blazed
wondering if this was how the
ghosts who wrote them felt
when they poured out their
souls
and I burned and
I burned and I
burned
until I came to my final
book.
A Dictionary…
And I burned that too
because in it
I could not find words to
adequately describe how you
make me feel.

Everything has
its purpose
including nothing
the space between
our fingers
allow us to grip
and to hold
more efficiently
and the spaces between
us
allow me to love you
more beautifully
and wholly
because I had to learn
how to make my love
caress you
hold you
and warm you
when I’m not there
and the stars
just like our moments
together
wouldn’t look so
beautiful
if it were not for the
spaces between them

I gave up once
and nothing changed
the world kept turning
the hyenas kept laughing
the buzzards kept feasting
the sun kept shining
and nothing was undone
so I changed myself
and
the world kept turning
the hyenas kept laughing
the buzzards kept feasting
the sun kept shining
and I kept living
which isn't too bad.

A camel bit my face once
after I had fed it a whole bag
of carrots
and I really appreciated
his honesty in that moment.

I remember how
you got upset over
the fact that I didn't cry when
we reconnected after several years
apart
and I still think
about how absurd that
is to me
because there's no way in hell
that after two marriages
and countless jobs
that you hadn't encountered
a situation in which the narrative
in your mind
did not match up with
how things unfolded in your life
and what do tears do anyway?
Sobbing in a George Webb's
would only make the desolate
atmosphere even worse.

Music pulsing in my ears
and even though it's a sixteen minute
song,
I feel like my time is running
out as I plod along
the near empty historic downtown
on a sunday evening
and I'm feeling antsy
and on edge
for some unknown reason.
I round the corner while
my eyes are distracted by
endless daydreams of heroism
and death
and I run into a bush
and in my panic I flail at the non-burning bush
to scare away any gods that are going
to tell me that I need to tell people
how to live their lives
but I had McDonald's for dinner,
so I really can't be trusted
with that sort of thing anyway.
All I'm left with is a scratched up hand
and a blank sky with the stars as
endless eyes
staring blankly at my hysteria.

From the parking lot
by the park
you walk a little bit down
the road and there's an opening
in the woods and hidden there
is a teepee.

It's more of a bunch of sticks
arranged to look like a teepee
than an actual teepee
but it still offers a little shelter
from the weight of the world
when you're hanging out in
there with a bunch of your
misfit friends
and talking about the future
as the cacophony of all the
animals and bugs in the trees
wells up like the 1812 Overture
at sundown,
the fading orange light
challenged by the glow of your faces.

I haven't been there
in years,
but have directed many
of my younger acquaintances there
to offer a little bit of solace
that can't be expressed
in any way other than experience.