I thought about you last night
And it's not what you're thinking
I mean more like day dreaming
More like a storyline
Playing out in my head
With ups and downs
And it was so perfect
I wrote it down
And realized
I might love my fictionalized version of you
More than the real you
I guess that's always the case
But it made me realise
What I love so much
About writing
It's the closest I've ever felt
To god

You are on the wrong side of thirty
You the white cliff of Dover
the passing of days the waves of the ocean
chipping away at you
wearing you down
You are on the wrong side of thirty
and maybe you’re starting to notice
your fleeing hairline
the creaking which starts in your ankles
and connects your milestones
to knees and back and neck
maybe you don’t see the point of getting out of bed today
or tomorrow
maybe your wife has started to let herself go
after the kid came
love handles and cellulite thighs
sagging **** and a birds nest atop her wrinkled face
You resent the kid
because for him
the world is so open
full of choices made on his fickle whim
while you wither away
giving every part of yourself
so one day he can be on the wrong side of thirty
and you can rest easily
on the wrong side of a grave
a wry smile stretching the skin of your corpse
*It’s your turn now you ungrateful *******

A taste for being inebriated
The sense of dissolving completely
Into the silence of night
I learned how to spot a spinning room
For a cheap carnival, parlor trick
I can't tell birds apart by their chirp
But I can appreciate a beautiful day
Even when everything feels lost
Poetry gave me a voice
And taught me when to shut the **** up
It showed me to see the angels
Trapped inside of everybody
Begging to come out
But it also showed me
When to be wary of a lost cause
Poetry gave me a way to vent
When I could feel the chaos I life
Crawling up my throat
Poetry gave me vision and a fresh perspective
Poetry have happiness
And self discovery
And love
And for all the bruises I carry
I wouldn't trade it in for anything in the world

A mother is a nightlight
a mother is the stinging of alcohol on grazed knees
I know it hurts
but it’s good for you
a mother is the seat belt
which saved you from hurtling towards the street
on forest hill ave and westover hills blv
the scene of the accident
a mother picks you up
and a mother pushes you into the deep end
a mother is four phone calls in a row at eight AM
okay I love you, bye… and one more thing…
A mother is your first happy meal
and your first time using the grown up menu
a mother is kitchens full of the scents which bring us home
no matter how far we might stray from the path
A mother’s love is unconditional
a mother’s love is maddening
a mother’s love is keeping you from going over the edge
and clean sheets
and bike rides to the park
My mother is calling me home
yelling out the living room window into silent earth
urging me to come home for dinner
and I’ve gotta get around to going home soon
because I am hungry
and a mother is your favorite meal
every single day

If I were Jesus Christ,
I'd take all of your insecurities and taboos
and turn them
inton beautiful hymns,
If i were Jesus Christ
you wouldn't pray to me
instead,
once a day
you would tell the people you love
how you really feel about them
If I were Jesus Christ
cheesy teenage love letters
would be in the book of gospel
and if I were Jesus Christ
you wouldn't just love your neighbor
but your neighbor's neighbor's neighbor
and If I were Jesus Christ
I would take all of your tears
and transform them
into wine
so that we might forget
the harshness of the world

Open it up
fill up your cup
like gulp gulp gulp
it's the drink of the lord
it's the **** you abhored
its my lifeblood
back from on tour
and it tastes like PBR
and sounds like broke guitars
it smells like ash and tar
and is sticky like cali trees
cold enough to freeze
thick like spoiled milk
poured down the kitchen sink
but feel free to take it
I just can't seem to shake it
all of these mistakes and ****
listen up kids
if you ever had a dream of making it big
you gotta follow that *****
so lace up your stiches
on the bottom of your feet
let your heart skip a beat
and chase it
because
not everybody lives
quite the way they wanna live
but as long as you give
everything that you've got
you won't stop
drop and roll
until your soul goes pop pop pop
it's out of control
so reach for the top shelf
not good for your health
but nowadays what is?
you've got nothing else
to hold on to
pierced heart like a harpoon
feel it in your chest
the rise of the slow doom
just throw on a vest
dance around your bedroom
You'll hit that success
your own little boom
boxed up and sold
to the young and old
to people outside the fold
but I guess
what I'm really saying is
don't get upset
when they say you're just a crazy kid
go ahead and take this life
and make it a vacation trip
because honesty
is the hot commodity
and you have to let them take it

Thunder clap alarm clocks
keeping you up at night
your fingers and feet
keeping rhythm with the patter of rain
against your dusty window
the nights are of an unimaginable blackness
and the days are as grey as the endless stretch of city blocks
gravity is trying to hold your feet to the fire
and you cannot feel a thing
the answer isn’t in the lock and key
the answer is what you are willing to do
to open Pandora’s box
love is not something you can find on a page or screen
love is the moon following the sun
until the time comes again where they can meet
a beautiful eclipse
life isn’t a roadmap route with point A and point B
life is the story of how that map came to be
so torn, wrinkled, and stained
and the weeds fighting their way through gaps in thee concrete
lust isn’t a sin, only a way to cling to childhood selfishness
peace isn’t achieved through self-torment
peace is befriending the voice inside of your head
so that the thunderstorms might fade
to reveal a picturesque summer day
and you have to be willing to sit through the show
to see what’s behind the curtains
and I truly hope you have the patience

Paper runs the world
it stands off
just behind the curtain
counting the roses
taking in the standing ovation
a knowing smirk
beneath hollow eyes
Paper is a vampire
pale and white
it tastes your blood
and takes it from you
drop by drop
an empty husk
to be tossed aside
Paper is a politician
a smooth talking
travelling salesman
come and get your snake oil
you wont live forever
but you will have a lot of stuff
a tribute to your vast
amounts of paper
Paper is green
an embodiment of pestilence
it is the monster
underneath your mattress
or in your closet
locked away in that safe
Some try to live without it
the victim was found bled dry
in a cold empty room
he would leave bread crumbs out
for the mice
that's one hell of a paper cut
and the audience laughs
that's what we're paying them for
all of the precious paper
ruling the world

I can not call myself a poet
with any good faith
I respect it too much
the raw words which shred out of me
come from a place
which I don't know
I didn't put them there
and though you don't know it
I'm pretty sure
that you wrote all of my poems
it just so happens
that the pen was clutched in my hand
the keyboard just happened
to be within my reach
but you're more than a muse
transcending language
you are a well
of emotional explanations
my guardian angel
pulling my strings from behind the scenes
if my poems are beautiful
it is only because you are too
if they are ugly, pointless, obscene, *****
it is because that's how you make me feel
you are a cathedral
which I can't besmirch
I hesitate to attach my name to this
what's a name anyway?
you are a poet
and you don't know it
you wrote this

And they were lost
among the TV commercials
and among reality TV
commercially it wasn't perfect
but it raked in enough
she felt out of place
in a world meant for less
he wished she wouldn't
wished she could understand
the need to experience
the others
the hurt
the broken
the lost
they were lost
in the pits
of the Minotaur
unsure of when
their yarn would run out
they were lost
in catacombs
built for great
Egyptian kings
They were lost
just like everybody else

It is so **** tempting
to leave this place
these pages
and these faces
just pack everything into my car
and drive west
for as long
and as far
as possible
never stopping
until I reach sunnier pastures
when life is like broad street
in rush hour traffic
and I'm trapped
stuck to street dividers
it seems like a good idea
to stick up my thumb
and see where it takes me
but I'm scared
scared that whats out there
will swallow me whole
a forgotten poet
penning his words
on the inside of a whale
and the truth is
I've been running for a while now
never moving anywhere

Oh Mr. Orwell
why did you have to write
that book
you know, the 1984 one,
the depressing one,
because you exposed them
and they knew you had
so Big Brother was taken
back to the drawing board
and they started from scratch
It was the best trick in the world
Instead of watching us
we watch him
instead of thought police
they just steal our thoughts
there is still a box in every home
and it shows episodes
of two and a half men
or the sucker free countdown
and jersey shore
I mean Jesus
they even managed
to trivialize reality
Oh Mr. Orwell
couldn't you have just
lived long enough
to topple this tower block
of spiritual silence

forgotten hunger
the echo of dull aches
crawl out of my stomach
and erupt neglected into the big wide world
they scream "FEED ME"
over and over again
"the last maniac I was with
wouldn't listen"
I walk around with a hole
instead of a stomach
light headed
every poem I write
is another hole
knifed into my belt
but it's one less distraction
and if i keep it up
maybe I can disappear entirely
and wouldn't that be nice

That’s why they call it falling in love
because at best it’s going to hurt
and at its worst
you end up splattered all over the concrete

you sit there
in that desk chair
or at your table
at the coffee shop
day after day
hour after hour
because it's all you know
past present future
the world outside
is growing bleaker and bleaker
but that's why they made blinds
close yourself in
remove from your life
everything except this
no school
no job
no money
no contact
just you
and a desk
and a head full of things
you don't completely understand
the road isn't always pretty
in fact most of the time
it's down right ugly
and maybe it will do the same to you
but in the end
after all of the flowers wilt
and the tears stop coming
people will talk about you
"**** that boy really went
all the way"

Look at this guy
what is he even doing
He has been walking laps
around the mall
all ******* day
There are some real freaks
out in the world, I swear
Me and David
In our favorite spot
a model gazebo
In the Sears
We people watch
or shoot the ****
just hanging out

"The universe is infinite,
think about how small that makes us,
doesn't that freak you out,
to know we don't matter,
to know we're insignificant?"
David looked calm
that lazy *******
always so **** calm
here I am
telling this guy
that his whole life
is worth less than a grain of sand
and he looks like
I told him American Idol was on

"So?"
"So what?"
"Scary, right?"
"Comforting maybe"
"It means a hell of a lot less
responsibility"
This guy
I could tell
That he wasn't
going to amount to anything
not me though
People would remember me

The moon hung lazy in hazy city sky
the air silent and pure - untouched
and she was the anima to your animus
that pretty little thing you sat in an empty parking lot with
talking until three AM
she was touching her hair a lot
and you remember reading something about body language
which said that means she likes you
courage isn’t being born standing tall
courage is knowing when to follow your love off that cliff
courage is faith that somehow she will be there
waiting to catch you
a safety net made of shy smiles
and a nervous mouth filled with run-on sentences
and paint stained hands on your ribs
a soul isn’t some ephemeral entity trapped inside of you
a soul is the anger and lust and passion that directs you
all of these words are silly little fickle things
pigeons which take flight the moment you get close
all of these actions are breathless, frail things
old men and women determined to take the stairs
she told you that you she had fun
you said me too
and I want to see you again
she said me too
sitting there in that empty lot
the heater barely on in the car
beneath a canvas full of long dead stars
you took a leap off of that cliff
and for a moment
you forgot how to drown

Where are you going
walking down the street
as the sun struggles
to find a reason to rise
and trash skitters along the asphalt
being blown by the winds of wonder
I wonder when you will realize
realize that the second hand
is spinning too fast
and that one day
the clocks will all break
and one night
the bottle will run empty
and the mirrors won't break
and the knife won't cut
the gun won't ****
hammer
pull
so where are you going
we all say the road less traveled
but truth be told
that road doesn't exist anymore
and truth be told
we're too lazy to raise a fist anymore
and truth be told
I don't tell the truth
I just make you believe lies
but isn't that the same thing?

She was just sitting there
over on the curb
looking lovely
and beat up
and tired and hungry
too perfectly imperfect
to pass up.

So I walk on over
trying to think of the best line
I've got
but I've always been better
off the top of my head
when I can find it
so I said to her

listen up sweet heart
I'm the kinda guy
who keeps his cigarettes
close to his chest
You listening?
because I'm the kinda guy
whose heart beats
and gut growls
all for you
so how about
you and I
go back to my place
and wait for tomorrow to wake up?

So things were good
for a while there
Maybe even great
but years of strong loving
only led to
scar tissue
and more scar tissue
all of it so bitter
she(I) went nuts
throwing plates
Now,
no eats
no sleep
breath won't keep
beer though
so It's all good
because If I keep on
drinking like I drink
and smoking like I smoke
living like I live
then I'll be dead by sixty five

so when you go out looking for love
be careful,
because I found mine
and she killed me

I took a semester of college
the words of the professor hung limp
like dead fish on the river bank
for everything I was glad to learn
there were ten ******* credit lectures
and I never felt smarter
only more tired
and exacerbated at the world
I didn't gain life lessons
or wisdom
but I did drink and smoke a lot
so as a warning
make sure that college
is the right choice for you
and not just
a monetary drain
on the pragmatic western spirit

The thing about growing up is
you never asked to be a grown up
in fact
you never asked to be anything
not even to be born
and yeah yeah yeah
I know
your parents gave you a life with potential
a roof
and three square meals maybe
but they also gave you
expectations to avoid resentment
to burn brighter
and maybe you prefer the dark
or to spark up whatever drug you can get your hands on
they would really like it if you were responsible
but it is that possible when the thought of letting people down
has you not getting out of bed until 1pm
I'd rather see you smile than frown
but this clown is running out of jokes about how patience kind of sounds like patients
and this bottle isn't doing the trick
and the tricks I work to make this all come together
now seems a whole lot less important
the apathy can sneak up on you
guerrilla commando trekking through the jungle of your doubts
it was one hundred degrees when I went to work
and storming when I left
****, did I forget to close the windows on my car?
are my phone, cigs, and lighter still breathing?
am I?

poetry started out as venting
became something more
something fingers can never quite grasp
the word always on the tip of my tongue
so I always lose the plot halfway through
and end up rambling like the drunk closing down the corner stool
do my words fall on deaf ears
or do they spark the ignition of emotional explosions
so big they measure on the Richter scale?
Time will tell
I only hope that by the time
time catches up with me to tell me
I will be gone
far away
off on my next big thing

treat this as a warning label
stop, warning, harmful, toxic substance
this won't be a fruitful endeavor
turn around, and don't look back
running from a pillar of salt

It would be foolish to think
that i'm not selfish
people just don't understand
the difference between
nice and selfless
But I would swallow you whole
most comfortable when we
are not comfortable
when the ceiling is crumbling
I'm at my best

I will take you
and claim your humanity
for my own
using it greedily
turning it into words
packaging it
and shipping it off
to millions of fast thought
word joints

warning, explicit content
harmful if swallowed
too far regressed
a stubborn child
in need of saving
too proud to be saved
the Surgeon General recommends
not even taking the time
Just turn around
truly not worth it

don't give me clouds
and pearly gates
apple cheeked cherubs
and glorious holy bugles
give me warm white sand
as far as the eye can see
give me me sapphire oceans
give me tiki torches
and string me up a hammock
give me life sculpted around peace
give me her
give her me
make it so her eyes
are the first thing I see
and her closed eyelids
the last
on a daily basis
give me an audience
who I can try to show
how even the ugliest things
have enough beauty
to steal your very oxygen
to make your heart
take a moment to observe
hot passionate blood
standing still
in the vessels of your story
this is all I ask
of an afterlife

The mind is conflict
the human mind
is incapable
of truly grasping
the concept
of infinity
and yet
within the mind
the imagination
is endless
so people who say
they really know themselves
are liars

The sun is shining today,
it feels as if it's the first time in weeks
I'm sitting outside of a cafe
just taking it all in.
It's spring break for the public high and middle schools
and seeing children running around downtown
unsupervised and smiling
makes me miss the simplicity
of just being a kid,
but try as I might,
I'm not a kid anymore
around this time next year
I will be twenty years old
which is pretty unbelievable

I sit in the midst of a sea of people
they ebb and flow like the tides
men on their breaks from work
their shirts opened down to their chest
a casual sunshine fashion statement
and the pretty art girls
with their pretty faces
and pretty dresses
walk on by
and I can't help but look at them
and smile to myself
like an utter idiot,
but I don't care
If you can't smile on a sunny day
when can you?

I left the windows in my apartment wide open
turned on the fans
and in an effort to symbolize
my victory over the winter
I turned the heating off
When I get home
I think,
that I will sit at my desk
and write
and be inspired by the sounds of the city
which ring out in a beautiful cacophony
of car horns, construction, laughter, and birds
it's sunny today
and no matter what happens
it will be a good day

Duck beach
Drinking on the the sand
Fleeing corolla
With 30 beers
Finished before we made it back to duck
Thrown in cop cars
Blowing over a .2
Not getting arrested
Living like champions
Tattoos on the 4th
Which will last forever
Experiences with strangers
Nothing better

you took the words of wise men on a whim
dug yourself out a nice shiny foxhole
to shelter from the ricochets of words best left unsaid
but your maw aches
and those wise words
fall fat and useless
so ******* anyways
I'll find my own wisdom
I'll be laughing in kingdoms of never more
once I find the right word

Don't let your kids grow up to be poets
because poets are a messy bunch
poets are the worst influences
they live in the thick of things
suspended in their own minds
and they are by a very large percentage
worth less than the clothes on their back
and they are all crazy
they all have to be
these mentally unstable babblers
they'd talk at anybody who'd listen
more like drunken tramps
than artists
so for the love of God
please don't let your kids grow up to be poets
because it's a rough time
you'd be better off keeping them in academia
that being said
upon reflection
would I have done it any differently?
not a ******* chance

reach out to a rubber band snap
the strain on the brain, the unfortunate sap
who weaves his way through the shades of gray
lost without his map
and you were so far away
like no way near arms reach
and his scribble soul starts to spray
poetic driftwood washed up on the beach
but he carries on chasing
like you're his white rabbit
brain racing heart pacing
his favorite bad habit,
because he's a total addict
and whenever you're away
he sweats and he shakes
and drinks away the day
and through the night
waking up's always too bright
and it ain't right
no matter how much he fights
he won't win this bout
until he learns how to reach out

Beach week
so we were just there
in they eyes of parents
to drink, drug, and ****
and we were
but there's more to it than that
it was a goodbye
a send off
to the times when we were allowed to be kids
so every grain of North Carolinian sand
was like a moment in time we spent
innocent like a memory
and we bask in the sun
the sand mixing with sunscreen on our backs
and we start drinking every day
at 2 pm
as if we actually had something to celebrate
we ate special brownies
and threw all of the chairs in the pool
and spent a good twenty minutes
laughing our ***** off
and to the sound
of generic radio music
hips and ***** grind against crotches
in hopes of kindling
that high school romance
that we never had the courage to pursue
and the day we left
at the end of the week
felt like a funeral
as if,
even if we did see each other again
we wouldn't be looking at the same person
we're all just growing up
moment after moment
and I don't want to

Do you know how lucky you are
I know that it is sometimes ****** to hear
to hear that your problems aren't the problems
you think they are
trust me
I had the worst year of my life
and today
I knew it had to change
so I changed it
the only thing you need to know
you are capable
of making the whole world stop in its tracks
so the next time
the annoying voice in your head
tells you you aren't good enough
or some other *******
remind yourself
Harry says we are all ******* awesome
with unlimited potential
the world is a ball of clay in your hands
do us all a favor
and make it something
absolutely ******* awesome

There's this small diner
across the street from my apartment
a small segment of culture
suspended outside of time
they serve good coffee there
by the ***
and they serve cheap breakfast food
which is greasy enough
to absorb even the sharpest of hangovers
I was in there
the other morning
sitting at the bar
spending my last spare change
on that old diner coffee
and the people around,
the beautiful strangers
they talked and laughed or read from paper backs,
the man next to me at the bar
ordered a Budweiser in a glass
at ten in the morning
and you just don't see that as much anymore,
the waitresses had a strut about them
like they were straight out of an old New York movie
and the cooks in the back could be heard
laughing rambunctiously over the sounds of the kitchen,
it's a small diner
suspended outside of time
and it is a place you could get lost in
a place you don't want to ever leave

I feel strongly
on the left hand a heart pumps love to every girl who smiled at me at some point
on the right hand a motor smokes toxic hate in clouds over the people who won't wake up from being awake
duality
yin to a yang
black to white
but never grey
small government
but stop telling people who they should ****
left brain fights right brain in a no holds barred cage match
and I'm pulled apart at the seams

You said I was the best,
no really,
you said that
As you drunkenly horse pet my face
then I said something
nowhere near as funny as I thought it was
but you laughed anyway
laughed as I told you I wanted to see your face on the other side of that glass pane
oh but you'll come visit me right?
of course I will say I'll visit you
but between you and me
plane tickets are expensive and I've always been a man of leisure
No lazy is not the right word
it's definitely leisure
you were scared
God knows why
as scared as I am when the time comes when I see you in person
a moving statue to the things I hold close
you said I was the best,
believe it or not,
as you drunkenly horse pet my face
and I said
only when it comes to you

I got drunk last night
Celebrating my birthday
One friend
Hospitalized
Another almost arrested
Another sick as a dog
Another hanging out the window

The next day
Apathy struck
The will to live
All but gone
Eating ******
College cafeteria food
And discussing
Our lives,
We came to two conclusions
Our lives were bad
And that didn't matter
Because nothing matters

I think if April were a person
it would be a young mother
Loving and kind
and sometimes,
kinda ******* nuts
but that's why I love her
I woke up this morning
and overnight
the tree outside of my window
up and decided to get pretty
green foliage
becomes emeralds in the sun
and transluscent

April means birth
and it also means rebirth
April is cleansing
and nourishing
and in my opinion
the best month of them all
but then again
I'm an April baby
so I'm probably
more than a little biased

I am in the wild
a world not of nature
but the nurturing of ambitious men
and blood thirsty predators
The Wild
where you can walk
desperate mile after desperate mile
without seeing another human face
only the twisted visage
of a wounded, snarling beast
In the distance I hear the
pounding of drums as
black smoke sails across the sky
declaring war on anything
which looks like it might belong
I am in the wild
and am not yet ready to return

I didn't expect it
but in that dark basement
of some strangers house
coated in a blanket of dance rhythms
veins running with fire
arteries pumping chemicals
you chose me
we danced until I can't remember

but then I found us outside
walking back to your dorm
my arm around you
protecting you from the cold winter night
I never wanted that walk to end
cars rushed past us,
and could see how happy I was
we got back to dorm commons
our small party the only inhabitants
she got on the floor
flat on her back
so I took our coats
rolled them into a pillow
and place them under her head
with my arm comfortably back around you
my favorite muscle memory
looking at that ceiling
not speaking,
not having to
caught in the magnificence
of stars which
were for our eyes only

It rained today
The sky was blue
The sun was out
And it was sickly humid
I mean ****,
It was raining sideways
Soap opera tears coming from seemingly nowhere
It just makes you think
Maybe god didn't want me to go outside and get anything done today
If I am made in god's image
Maybe he's as lazy as me

The coffee is brewing in the kitchen
God that line is played
but it is true
black drop after black drop
you are in bed still
I have not been much of a sleeper as of late
up by 830 down by 330
so I am brewing us a whole *** of coffee
which the *** says is twelve cups
but it is really six
even numbers are good like that
and now you dream in unmade bed
of things I wish I could drag kicking and screaming
into this reality
twelve(six) cups takes a little bit of time
so I’m writing you bleary eyed poetry
by the open window as winter’s last breath chills so nice
what are we going to do today?
get breakfast? go for a drive? I’ve got no work today
are we going to fight
cat and dogs and all that other crap?
oh we are?
then It’s a good job the coffee’s ready

it's a curse
it's a blessing
unlike any other
to be so all alone
solitude is the key
and it is also the cell
given enough time
to work with ourselves
the visage shatters
and in each reflective fragment
we see the face of strangers
and old friends
flames past future and present
and oh,
now would you look at that
it appears as if human company
seems desirable,
no,
a necessity
but there's no way out of here
you signed your deal
a key
and a cell
right?
so you just go on
being alone
until you no longer have to

I don't think I'll make it
until I know how to not fake it
until I learn how to break it
until I let them take it
the it factor
Harry J Baxter
because unless I can give me
then I'm just like that tree
that fell in the forest
through the safety net
with nobody around
to hear it yet
A sick dog without a vet
without a vestment of hope
will they like this? nope
is this really you?
your where why and who?
because people have
great ******* detectors
and unless you're the director
nobody is buying tickets
no more white pickets
see that bucket? kick it
like  a mangy mutt
kick it right in the ****
these rhymes are simple
I never had much skill
never got such a thrill
from fitting into a style
maybe in a little while
but I don't want to hear it
I just don't give a ****
if these long lines of words
leave your eyes feeling hurt
and your poetic sensibilities inert
It never stops
and I might take a shot
at making this poem
be needlessly long
an ugly song
sung by an ugly swan
or is it a duckling?
who knows? who cares?
It just leaves me scared
to think that I'm not
who I am
when I write

there is a man
sitting in front of me
drinking some fruity coffee drink or another
with three cellphones
laid out before him
a different color case for each one
pink, yellow, blue
and ever minute or so
one starts to ring
an obnoxious ringtone
but aren't they all?
and he has to figure out which one is ringing
he then talks on the phone
for a few blunt sentences
in a language
which sounds middle-eastern
and I'm thinking
this guy must be
one hundred percent
out of his ******* mind
nuts
because I've always had trouble
keeping up with one cellphone
let alone three of the ******* things

Baby, let me be your puppeteer
pulling at those strings we both know so well
jerking you to make you do the things I like
I'll tell you I love you
if that's the sorta thing you're interested in
me, I'm more of a instant self gratification kind of guy
so light daddy's cig
and maybe take that pretty little mouth downstairs
tell yourself you're doing it because I love you and you love me back
go ahead doll face, now wear those shorts I like
he doesn't hate women. He just really really loves them
sure thing sweet heart, whatever gets you going
tell yourself I cut those strings a while ago
go ahead
but remember to get my blood flowing
boiling over
in the morning I won't want to remember your face
dance for me puppet
before I put you back in that closed box

Brain cells fading into haze
the sky is all topsy-turvy
we were walking through the stars
with our heads swollen to the size
of planets
we drank the leftover nectar of Olympus
and our strides brought tears to the eyes wilted flowers
the moon reflected from the broken forty ounce
told stories older than darkness
and we ate that **** up
with brown and amber and green
and street lamps bled crimson eternal
the four of us in an old hippie van
those were the days
when the plastic bottle was a key
and our face the beaten path
that I walked in rural childhood daydreams
simplicity is beauty is art is pretension
we spoke of sliding into Alice’s Wonderland
love is scary but ******* feels as good
as getting away with fake sick days
so we dressed like magazines and music videos
and lived like spotlight
until all of the wool knit scarves unraveled
and all the old wounds scabbed over

I know I shouldn't smoke
a pack a day
I know how bad it is
and how much money
the whole shebang

and I know I shouldn't drink
more days of the week
than not
I know that I do stupid things
like loosing in a drinking game
and being forced to sprint
up and down 6 flights of stairs
I know that I get all sappy
and promise girls
things I can't give
I know it's bad
that at the end of a day
I crave a drink
but sometimes
you just need to
get good and drunk

I know that I shouldn't smoke ***
spending most of my day high
up in the clouds
taking a nap
but it relaxes me
and it makes everything
seem so **** nice
and I know it's bad
to not be able to sleep
without toking up
I know it shouldn't be okay
to be bored
but hey
it makes ****** movies
a whole lot better
which is huge service
to people everywhere

I know the lifestyle's not too hot
and trust me
I know you know
and that you only want
what's best for me
but sometimes
you just have to make
some really bad decisions

When I was a young(er) kid
I was asked to play a lead role
in the high school play
The only kid my age
and dreams of fame
and Hollywood
crept tantalizing into my skull
And when I got on that stage
all of the nerves melted away
and I know I'm supposed to be modest
but I ******* killed it
the school gave me a drama award
and took all of the award winners
to a book store
with a one free book coupon
and that was the first time I fell in love

I picked up a book by Darren Shan
it was for teenagers
but I devoured it
cover to cover
in one sitting
It was an addiction
and every time I got a new book
I also got the old warning
"Don't read it all at once this time Harry"
Not a ******* chance woman
I'm tweaking out over here
It all became very clear
It wasn't the acting I wanted
It was the audience
and with acting
I was always telling
somebody else's stories
but my words
were certainly mine and mine alone
Until I decide to give it to you
the audience
the only people I've ever wanted to impress
or help
or move
or even just make them crack a smile
**** the money
the women
the food
the real world
They would all come in the end
if they were meant to
So to everyone who has read
my throwaway little thoughts
Thank you
and I am so sorry

I'm on my way to see you. Sailing through the in between parts of our state. Hay bales and horses. small town auto shops. Men and women with tired eyes. I'm on my way to see you. Open up the box wine. Open up the *****. I'm on my way to see you. Remember all those times that I never measured up? I track my progress by the path of raindrops. You are the only person I think about on a daily basis. The only person to have ever left me tongue tied to the train tracks. Play me my favorite song. Sing me to relief. If I had the courage to be everything you wanted - believe me I would. But day fades into night just as I fade into my many costumes. I've never felt less than the sum of my parts, but you are the missing piece to the jigsaw I've been slotting together since puberty. I come on strong. Only because I need the warmth of your bravery. Generally, I avoid the mushy stuff. However - I'd be just as mushy as you want. This rant doesn't come close to the thought left under lock and key. And yeah I do want to get into your pants, and yeah I do want to get under your skin, but I'd be the parasite you wouldn't be without. I'm on my way to see you, and I don't want tonight to find the full stop.

back leaning against the tub
forehead resting in forearms
on the toilet seat
just waiting for the ***** to come
but ******* wouldn't you know
it's taking its **** time
the cold of the tiles
feels good
on the bare skin of the thighs
and the sweats come out
bucket after bucket
Lean further into the tub
wouldn't it be nice to sleep there?
to wrap up in a blanket
a taco of heart racing
too drunkenness
hoping to find a land
where they could finally be free
hoping to find a land
with the comfort of
a bathroom floor

My mother was a catholic
until her mother died
she said she fell out with God
and sitting through surgeries
and a harsh childhood
stole God from my father
And that leaves me
sitting in an empty church
listening to the rallying calls
the crusades never ended
but the holy land has changed
the human mind
told to fear difference
but nobody cares
if I wear a shirt of poly-cotton blend
I think it's time for a new bible
after all
the current one is pretty old
gathering dust on my bed side table
papal imagery ****** in my face
they should have stopped writing it
after they penned the golden rule
and tossed out the rest