I was sitting outside on the curb in front the venue
With Spaghetti string lights that curved into shape
Spelling out Baby’s Alright
Spilling out green and blue, green and blue all over the pavement
And thought if Care-Bears could ***** it would be like this
The band was finished and they were packing up slowly
Reluctant to leave
Maybe because they had a four hour drive ahead of them to Philly
I was smoking like I do after big crowds
The sun was setting here and rising at another place
And I was thinking about what to do for the rest of the night
Because I didn’t want to be alone but I didn’t want to be in a crowd
Everyone was talking about drinking and if not drinking, smoking
And if smoking then eating and all roads leads to Rome
So if they wanted to **** they might as well have just said it—
But I guess they wanted to be nice first
It was cool outside and the wind was kind to let me smoke in peace
I kept staring at the schizophrenic buildings changing voices one after another
Which is to say I just eavesdropping on the windows again
And I always have this strange habit of thinking that the people in those buildings are free
Or willing to spend sometime with me and talk about whatever
Like they had sometime to waste and I would have taken it

Maybe because you look cute in
A purple bra
Maybe because it’s just the image of you
In a bra
Maybe because you have *****
And I can’t distinguish Love from ***
Tonight
But tomorrow I’ll hate you
I might hate your hair changing so much or I might hate
What you text late at night or I might hate how often
You talk about yourself
Which are terrible things to hate but I just might because
It’s you.
The truth is it’s late, all the windows
Are closed, I ran out of ideas, 2 hours from now everyone
Will wake up and
I want to call you

I’ve been squeezing moose all over my body in an attempt
To give it more volume
Which is to say I was trying to give my life more depth

When you’re finished reading astronomy you’ll end up
Throwing oranges at pedestrians because **** it, Earth is
Meaningless and everyone needs to cheer up

**** it because being content is the hardest
Thing you can possibly do
Which is to say throwing oranges at people is the hardest
Thing to do without getting your *** kicked

**** it because when an orange concentrates hard enough it becomes juice
And if I concentrate hard enough I **** myself
Which is to say I need to have a seat and calm down—
Enjoy this cigarette while it lasts

I am no longer able to print Handle-With-Care labeling
And tape it to my body like someone who actually believes that works
While the sun laughs and harasses me with oranges all day
**** it, there’s too much moose and I’m wearing a white shirt.

I found myself peeling the skin off post it notes
I was lost
You okay they said, like a statement than a question
People get annoyed like I’m adding oil into their drink water
When I sprout about my sadness
Relax, I’m not asking you to hold an anchor
I’m asking you to listen
Happiness is a bridge on fire with no one on it
Sadness is a metal detector through the streets
Depression is when the roof tops, knifes, and middles of bridges
Start being friendly

I’m stealing thumbtacks off walls
And putting the in people’s
Pizzas to teach them
How to swallow sadness

The problem is I like to pretend,
Which is to say I like to fall in love
We would date for a while
And then I would realize
I’m only in love with the story we made and the ***
Which is to say I was looking for poetic material

Like, Teenage poetry is awkward
And Young poetry is selfish
Middle-age poetry is about my ex-wife
Old poetry is boring
Dead or Near-Dead poetry is what we remember
And all poetry is filled with cigarettes stains and mistakes

Life is short. He says
I hand him a cheese grader
And said back
“Make like a slice of parmesan
and go **** yourself”

Life is long for the people who wait

I was on the bridge with the sun high above
Taunting me and pinching the back of my neck
Do It, You *****!
Around me were families
So I decide not to,
And never again;

I’m running out of pages to keep myself calm
I’m running out of time
And I’ve only answered so many questions
I am no longer authorized to print
Handle-with-care packaging
And I am running out of blue crayons to color in the oceans
As fast as it takes to finish this Carpi Sun
I’m running out of words to make you forgive me
And running out of Uhms in between sentence
To buy some time—
Maybe, I’m losing my ability
of a first grader gazing among tall buildings

She would sprint to her house and tell her about the windy weather
And the two of them would bike to Lake Erie—
watching the trees undress themselves in the water
using their feet to flirt with the waves
they felt so restless in the process that they hijacked golf carts from the course nearby
and cruised around the neighborhoods
Millennium Falconing it through suburban Michigan,
spray painting quotes from Ginsberg, Milk and Lucas on the rich white walls
dubbing it “The Battle of Detroit ”—
and eventually they would afternoon on the asphalt, cul-de-sac, kissing.
Making the sky blush purple—

their mouths full of Jolly Ranchers,
and necks full of bug bites,
some from each other

Watching the childish sun being tucked into the night slowly,
While shining one last time through The Ruins of Detroit

I thought you bought me for a sandwich or something
I thought I was going to become butter toast to you—
Now you’re pouring paint into my ears while I sleep?
Stop,
the dreams are nice but I always wake up with a headache
And what are these you tuck inside my dough,
Indigo? Great—

You go to the coast and have the ocean tempt you with freedom
While painting me black from the inside out—
Good job, You’ve managed to convince everyone I’m a rock
I give up
Pour all the colors you can inside me, I suppose
Paint me scarlet red,
stick a few pieces of fresh green grass on top
And Start telling your friends I’m a tomato
Then feed me to seagulls when you’re done,
they’ll **** me out somewhere over Nantucket
And some tourist there with an obnoxiously large camera will shout out
Wow!, what a colorful lighthouse!