they are taking all of the ideas which once worked
and are forcing them into the corpses of dead horses
kids are slitting each others’ throats for the clothes on their backs
or are in charity stores stealing from the poor
the tension in the air at the dinner party has half of us
leaning on lean towards outlawdom and fifty dollar eighths
a spark of flint in the dark gives away your position on the wrong side of tracks
with eyeballs and ears waiting around every single ******* corner
so now private is ******* and they are ******* with fury
the constant race with fake identities until we find one that is safe
we caught a glimpse of the earth turning lazily on its axis
and realized how far away we all are from hand holding kumbaya camp fires
the tribes of black and metal and steel and concrete and blood are tearing through the land
and they don’t tend to take prisoners
we kept on churning out the same ******* and then got confused when they all stopped eating
so now they hunt for new witches to scapegoat
burning them on crosses and pyres until all the screaming ceases
all we can do is find a little inch of free ground
and defend it with all we have got

Sleep on me like memory foam
never forget like September eleven
snow flurries are the forecast today
with a little bit of hopelessness
a new nasa study which I read on facebook suggests
that modern civilization will crumble upon itself within the next two decades
so the cold wind blows across the dusty plains
and the litter strewn streets rest easily like guerrilla militants
pay homage to the blazing skies
another day waiting for the bite to come
another day praying like mad men
the nostalgic characters we created are haunting us
we are all being called home
supper is getting cold
and we are all in need of a solid night’s sleep
before what is to come

You are getting nosebleeds at all the wrong times
the tears welling up behind your eyes to track down  your
pale, pockmarked cheek
and that bulging in your throat constricting the airflow
let’s you know that fast can be too fast
you thrive with the sunlight
but like flowers standing tall against the oncoming winter
you wilt with day’s last breath
what time did you get home this morning?
hair all matted and stood up
smelling like a sorority party massacre
glitter, wine, tequila, coke, and anonymous ****
take another adderall
******* for the bored children
feel the electrical signals pulse from your brain
to snap your pupils to attention
wash the ***** out of your hair sweet heart
the boys back home never talked to you the way these city boys do
“girl, *****, chick, ****, ***** -”
“oh her? yeah she’s a sure ****
her legs are like seven eleven
they’re not always doing business, but they’re always open…”
So forget the night ever happened
each day brings new opportunities
but they all want you
they all want one thing from you
and you don’t want to say no
don’t want to make them mad,
be a tease, a *****, frigid
and you like the way they make you feel special and beautiful
until the next morning
with the nosebleeds and the dry heaving in strange toilets
and you are waiting for Prince Charming, huh?
as if he will jump out of cheesy romcoms and magazines to hold you steady
well Prince charming is dead weight slowly spinning beneath a frayed, twisted rope
in a dark closet next to the nameless stranger and the noble outlaw
so go ahead and smash those mirrors sweetheart
what’s seven years more bad luck?

The jester is weeping - locked in the bathroom, not coming out
the jester is weeping like a girl stag on prom night
each fetal rock accompanied by a jingle of bells
he painted a picture of perfect only to find the paint dry
the ugly makeup is running down his face
and his suit is tattered with grit
a clown is a last straw to clutch when the world is burning
“yeah, but at least it’s funny”
his drink spilling down his chin
watch as he makes a balloon noose
so the children can play hangman with his wavering decisions
his pants are full of candy
call it a painata
you can laugh and laugh and laugh
until it all sounds like wailing
the jester, weeping like the fool he plays
the crown’s court pleased with their pet
obnoxious explosions of ignorant, blissful cackles
the jester is tired
he has to go to sleep now
and the once they lose the laughter
they will see the brutal realities
they will be cannibalized by their fear
God, save the Jester
he’s all we’ve got

My roommate is vacuuming the apartment
I'm thinking about distances
past to present,
empty to overflowing,
shattered to whole
doctor your wounds are bleeding again
and I don't have the proper training
we toil and toil beneath the gaze of an oblivion
too much sweat on the brow to take the time to ask why
my heart is a runaway train
my brain the penny on the tracks
there's no such thing as non-civilian casualties
hungry is as hungry does
it's just the nature of these lives
our carrot on a string
I thought I caught a taste once
only to bite my own finger
It hurts, but the pain is just motivation
to keep on living
and all of those lessons and truths
she whispered in your ear on dreaming nights
are still the reason your heart beats the way it now does
wake the hell up
perfect does not exist
and you are going to be fine
fix the roof
you are going to be fine

He had no name to call his own
no true home either
he had been following his footsteps into unknown
for an unknown amount of time
days, weeks, months, years?
the convalescent bond he shares with his heart and his gut and his spine
meander around and through his humanity
tributaries of some God sized river
when the night comes around
he hunkers down in a suitable place
and drifts off to restless sleep
his legs twitching with excitement like an old dog’s dreams
he is a biblical figure in a non-biblical world
he drinks too much and vomits up cringe inducing truths
let’s things slip
but all in the name of honesty
all in the name of passion
all in the name of the nameless father who cast him out from Eden
he roams with the cold, the hungry, the tired, the poor
he roams through crack deals on Y street
and date rapes on Laurel
he roams and roams and roams until sneakers become slippers become bare feet
riddled with blisters turned callous
he roams with the forever sleepy drunks who murmur nothings at nobody
he has a harmonica and he plays a song called love
sleeping under the divine sanctity of cathedral steps
smelling like the James River
Norfolk salt in his hair
and a tan that only comes with those who have a pinch of Southern Soil in their blood
he roams seeking out the answers that we didn’t have the time or courage
to pursue

Walking past businesses with their doors wide open
letting the spring air permeate the room and vanquish
the lingering taste of winter
I’ll have what I always have - only make it iced
an ice cream cone is melting in the gutter
and I can almost hear the five year old girl crying for another
all of the colors of this worldly palette now so vibrant
take the blinders off of my eyes
and let my heart dance to rythym of far off shores
I’m smiling because the birds stopped shrieking and started singing
I write the same five or six poems over and over and over again
but I dress them up in different costumes
I’ve always loved acting the noble fool of endearment
I have to move my car in 40 to avoid the ticket
but I might just see how far that ***** little hatchback can take me
to avoid my roots going so deep they dry up
listen to love
listen to rage
listen to petulant cries for warped justice
listen to lust
and listen to depressed realizations
listen to all of the ******* we can come up with
we love to talk but not to listen
blah blah blah
shut up
it’s sunny outside
so take of all of your clothes
and dance in your nakedness
in the middle of midday broad street
unlock all the cages
let the light in
it’s a great day for living
so quit your death march