A little rest
It's been a long hard road
You're tired and you deserve it
So lay back
Let the sounds fill your head
Marvel
At how they seep into your body
Like a pure drug
And lift your spirit

Find a soft pillow
I'll stand watch
As you tear it all down
When it gets too hard
When you fear letting go
And the sights to see
On the other side of the wall
You're tearing down
Let me be your fortress

Together we will gather
The broken pieces of your days
And I will slowly put them back together
Just slowly enough
For you to feel the love
That comes in my reassembling
And leave behind
Everything that tore them apart

Everything that tore them apart
I will cause you to forget
As we lay
As we melt into one each other
As we melt into earth
Flesh of My flesh
Bone of My bone
One seed
Planted by Death
To sprout and grow
Into new life
In a new garden

Settle your thoughts
Receive calm for your shattered nerves
Though they are shot
I will ride shotgun

I am love
This world is a mirror
You see it as in reverse
The reality:
Reap
Sow
Plant
I am the Farmer
I love you
Because you know Me
For what I am
You know
That I am not Grim
That my sickle serves a purpose
It's blade, sharp and shiny
A two edged sword
Brings you to this place
Where enlightenment never dims or fades

We will ride it together
Until harvest has come
You and I will be One
Until we both realize
We've got a spare rib

Me and Terry
On a dusty road
Were singing songs
About Dusty Rhodes
We got hell to pay
But that's alright
Terry's got a credit card
A hogleg and a light

Terry, don't put out that hogleg
It's the only one we got

Tonight we're sleeping
In a satellite dish
Looking up at the stars
And making a wish
"If I had my way"
Terry spoke to me
"A thousand more hoglegs
Rolled up fat for me"

But Terry, don't put out that hogleg
It's the only one we got

Come on now, Terry
Look at what you did
Stayed home from school all day long
To kick a fat kid
Terry been a bad boy
Terry been a bad boy
Bad boy, bad boy, whatcha gonna do?
Whacha gonna do when they come for you?

Terry, better not put out that hogleg
It's the only one we got

The powerless gods
Whose names I have not counted worthy of remembrance
March like high school bullies
Neither I nor they
Understand the reason for their swagger
Some dumb determination to enlighten me, may be?
A cause, a campaign
A small favor
Willingly performed for the Conjurer

Who steals from the Dream World
Who makes enemies in the Real World
Because he will not share his loot
He labels and tags and stores the treasure
Describes it all to anyone with ears to hear
Quite eloquently
With an air of pomp and mystery

Listen. He brags that his coffers are full
So much more than he needs
So much more than he wants
Still he hoards

He's convinced the dogs
That he has more to give them
Than flowery words
(As words he worships)
They believe him
Though it was not his intent to convert
As it is not his intent to keep his word
So more fool them
They look like bunglers, trolls, monsters
Rounded up into a posse
I would laugh at them if not for the fact
That I'm the one they are coming for

Before the next five minutes are over
They will have twisted my arm behind my back
Spat in my face
Kicked my legs out from under me
Held my head in their hands
Pinched my nose shut
Stuck their fingers in my mouth
Pulled it, stretched it, as far as it goes
Then, when my screams cease
They will speak to me for the very first time

"FEAR HIM."

"Why should I fear the Conjurer?"

"He will laugh to watch you
Sink into his vat of language
The jewels he's plundered."

"Why should I fear the Conjurer?"

"He will confuse you
He will dig forks in the road
To throw you from your cherished path.
He will brand you
With pentagrams
He will tattoo a goat's head on your back
Worst of all, he will convince you
That they mean something."

"Why should I fear the Conjurer?"

"He desires to pick your brain
Hoping to pluck
A slither of flattery to fuel his narcissism
He will become very angry when he finds out
That you've never heard of him
Perhaps you have never heard of him
But you know him

"You know him well
You've even seen him
Though it was not his true face you beheld
He roams the land
Behind a smiling cartoon clown mask
That hides a blank stare of greed
Derision, scorn, contempt, lies, pettiness,
Dishonesty, depravity, perversity
And the insatiable lust he has for validation
Respect and Recognition
They have twisted his visage
Into stone and ***** crystal
Ugly diamond
The sight from which even he recoils
A reflection that pulls at his intestines
And pours ice cold fear down his naked back
So we say FEAR HIM."

"Why should I fear the Conjurer?"

"Because he knows you're looking for an enemy

"He is possessed of demons
One in particular
But he willingly let it in
Shared communion with it
Offered it a bed for rest
A home, a host
Gave it a book of Crowley and said, 'Occupy yourself'."

"A demon?"

"Yes, and a powerful one
It is a testament to the Conjurer's will and power
That the demon dwells complacent
Content to let the Conjurer study it
To take notice of it's wickedness
(For he delights in wickedness)
To search for ****** in it's black heart
(For he knows that there is a murderer in his own)
To dig through the egg shell surface
Hoping to find a germ, a genesis, or just a reason for it's evil
(As he is convinced he has many legitimate reasons
For the evil embedded into his soul)
The demon understands death, toys with it
Laughs at it, wishes it on all people
The Conjuror laughs with the demon
And this makes the demon laugh even harder
For it knows that the Conjuror has no understanding
Of death
Past the idea
All he has done is flirt
With an ugly girl at the prom
Made it the realm of heroes, his role models
Idols that don't talk back
Held high it's banner
Dreamed of mausoleums and tombs
'At last, something I can embrace'
Fool

"He let this demon be his teacher
And learned much
About
The powers of darkness
The father of lies
The hierarchy of celestial beings
All the arcane symbolism (tossed out the window by science)
Esoterica
Black-robed men carrying candles in the dark
Their teachings ancient, their lessons unheeded, unwanted
Diluted through millenniums
Cracked and drained of any power or
Purpose they might have one day possessed
Robbed of relevance
Outdated curiousities
A good scary movie to watch on Sunday afternoons after church
Morbid fascinations
Spooky dry-ice rituals
That once scared the **** out of him

"His demon goads and teases him
'You can resurrect it", the demon croaks
'You can close your eyes
Make believe it's all real
And just as long as you stay in your hidey-hole
With eyes closed you can call it your own
Posess it
Give it power in your own mind
But keep this thought nestled in the back of your mind:
It's all YOURS.
No one else wants it.'"

There is logic, I think, in what these giants say.

"The Conjurer will drag you into his heart core
And there he will take back the book of Crowley
From his demon familiar
And together they will beat you down with it
Pulverize your skull
Crack open your head
The book of Crowley
Is a very heavy book
Good for pummeling
If not for much else."

And with these words
Power given to brute gods
Transferred to the meek
They will soon learn wisdom
To see the Conjurer as he really is
To realize he has nothing they need or
Want
Prepare themselves
To rip out his soul
To cast out his demon
And to burn that ******* book of Crowley

I take full responsibility
For what I've done
The stolen coins
The nicked photographs
Shiny black and white
Gray
From a time I was not meant to remember
Blessed with innocence I was
A precious gift I was
That soon rotted for you to grow tired of
A monster you could not control
You took as much as you could take, I know
As did I

I wonder if you realize what you took?
What you stole?
Would the scales be balanced?
No, you have no idea
Why should I walk this earth judged guilty
By a judge more guilty than I?
More...more...more...

No, you were not alone
But at least he tried to tie up the loose ends
You left unraveled as you made your choice
I hated him, even told my pillow as much
As I beat it and hoped it muffled my voice
Pillow my only friend, it dried my tears
Soaked them up
Yes, I hated him, hated his anger
His disgust in me
His unwillingness to slap the **** out of me when I dared him to
I took it as cowardice
I was wrong
I was wrong about a lot of things
None of his faults,
I thought there were many,
Were above forgiving
Now that he's gone I can only remember the good things
The man he truly was, beneath the flaws
Revealed slowly by time
Tested and proven by death
The time you didn't want from me
Tested and proven in death

So why am I still troubled by that day?
How can I see you off after all we've been through?
I remember my grandmother's funeral
I was only a child, it was before you gave up
I sat in a pew of the Freewill Baptist Church she had lived in
My cousin sobbing by my side
I reached over and took her hand, she cried harder
Tears flowed in that old building as the minister spoke the eulogy
No mere recital, she was loved
Then the time came for the people to walk by the casket
One last look before consigning her to memory
The friends strolled by, then it was time for the family
One by one her daughters broke down
And fell to their knees beside the coffin
Wailing and moaning, begging God not to take her
Not even seeming to realize that she was dead
They had to be dragged away, and even that with a fight
I had never seen grief so palpable and frantic
I hope I won't again

I fear I will
When I sit in that front row
I fear the years will take their toll
The absence will make the heart remember
What it wants to remember
Regardless of the truth
When I see your closed eyes staring at the ceiling
Your still body dressed in your going-away clothes
Still as the stand
Which holds the box you'll be buried in

I have resolved to stay home on that gloomy day
To learn from mistakes we both made
Far away, to court my denial for all it's worth
Let someone else mourn
And if this makes me a hateful man, beneath contempt
I will offer no apologies
Blood is thicker than water
But ours has been diluted
I wish I didn't blame you
I don't hate you, though
You did what you had to do

I will, too
I'm a liar
I'll be there
To let you lift the weight off of my shoulders
To see you off into the still, dark night
Never again will we have to worry
About running into each other at garage sales
Or how hard it is to travel seven miles
Or the reasons why
We don't talk anymore
Forgive me

Well now Jenny Lee she was a ******
  She made about a grand a night
But Jenny, she weren't no looker
  She could give a man one hell of a fright
We used to wonder how she stayed so busy
  Good Lord, she was almost rich
The other gals on the corner didn't like her
  They all called her a skanky old witch
One night Jenny Lee was out working
  Making a midnight run
She was just gettin' done with a client
  Got a call from Reverend Simmons' son
He said, "Jenny Lee, you know I been lookin'
  "Been admirin' your stuff from afar
"And I'm hungry for what you got cookin'
  Could you meet me in a half of an hour?"
She said, "Ben Simmons, I just don't believe it
  "Mister, you ought to be ashamed
"Don't you care 'bout your reputation?
  "Why you wanna play this game?"
"I ain't nothin' like my daddy",
  He said, "Sometimes I gets me an itch
"And my daddy's money can't scratch it
  "Besides, he's a *******"
Now Jenny's jaw dropped wide opened
  Said "Simmons you just crossed the line"
Said "Your daddy's money can't scratch your itch
  "But it can sure as hell scratch mine!"

I've not been content with the empty spaces
Let alone appreciated them
Greedy to fill them with my own thoughts
My own dreams, my own desires, my own need
My, my, my, my
Never once thinking that the void is infinite
Offers nothing, consumes all
Could care less about my, my, my, my
Let alone my inability to appreciate them
I seek to fill them to sate my own narcissism
To work a fine piece of alchemy
Upon a golem
A frightening, lifeless husk of flesh and bones
Perfectly content with it's station
The last thing in the world it needs
Is me for a soul
A new life, a new purpose
A real "yes man"
Elemental body eternal, regenerated with time and coincidence
Spirit trapped within, room to spare
The perfect companion, yet still I am unsatisfied
If only I could  turn the tables
Denigrate the good times
For their rarity
Perhaps make peace with the boredom
I would be glad to sacrifice
All this insignificance I've collected throughout the years
Place it in perfect perspective
Stand back and take in the beauty
Of how nothing in this world is mine
Except, perhaps, nothing at all

Follow your thoughts to a garden of ideas
That grow on green trees, ripe for the picking
Sweet cleansing rain falls from velveteen skies
Each drop a word, every word a bomb
Turn to see the look on your face
And you're gone
Off to some other ridiculous place

Caught up with you, no easy feat that
Almost got lost in translation
Thank God you're a thief
I'd be wandering aloud, alone in the woods
Without those touchstones
To set me back on course
Fields of neon wheat and poppy seed
Another shadow world
Hidden behind curtains
A poor man's veil

This house is alive
The wood, the mortar
It moves, inhales, exhales
It dances with the wind that blows
From the southwest
A breeze that breathes
Some semblance of life into it's architecture
Something for the old ghosts to dream about
It's over my head

They've chosen and called elders
To propagate unreality
Men who have believed a lie for so long
They can convince it is the truth
A subtle manipulation of the obvious
It's not a game to them

2001: The Trump lobotomy partially successful
the Successful partial lobotomy performed on
Donald Trump was increasingly expensive
as complications were disregarded
He could have woken up with a Messiah complex
But a stray clot attached to the memluk
as a result he was unable to speak the truth
forever trying to make people believe his lies
"Liar Liar Pants on Fire" he bought a LOT of pants in the years after the chisel
Trump would meditate and contemplate
his singular black hole fate
so pathetic
it turned him
it turned him bad
it turned him into a bully
it made him hateful and unafraid to call wicked names
so many people hate the crooked one
what love they have left is for the liar
the one who doesn't know how to laugh
they'll give it to the man with the lobotomy
they'll give it to Donald Trump

I write under my own name
A crushing weight of fear and shame
To remind myself
During times when I needed reminding
I'm good with alphabet soup
Words flow almost easy
Pulling your own teeth form your gums
A piece of spinach clings to my left incision
So that when I open my mouth
Just long enough to crack a smile
The spinach is a flat blackgreen
In dark environments
I may have scared a lot of people
Children in general
Without mincing words
My tooth is falling of of its own accord
I dare you to put in your mouth

I'm here to run off the John Mellencamps
To take the tops of the female hippies
Toss them into the air and stand back
They are going to crime like mommas
Missing their daddies
And daddies missing their sons

Melodrama don't care
He's got a 2/@@©aS
He's outta he-hurt
Making appointments with a guy sell small tortilla chips
But he expects that from melodrama

Nobody expects her to fall asleep in a large silk bed
But she does, and the only thing she should be concerned
about.
They may well lying on their stomach
Laying their heads on the ground so they could
Hear what's going on down there.

Wouldn't you like to know.
No! I do not want to watch her

Hateful atheist
Ecstatic to convert
With cruelty and a mean spirit
A facade of compassion
Fingers to point at what you can't understand, bewildered
What you cannot understand, unable
To point and to laugh
Refusing to "come down" to a level
You feel above
A different level of hate
A different level of love

Worshiping science
You somehow can't see
Science is to look
God is to be
Through microscope and telescope
God can be seen

A rotten fruit on a dying vine
Cursed to be trapped in space and time
An awesome cathedral you feel is enough
It doesn't worry you that there will come a day
When you will be evicted
Wanting more
Never enough

The best you can do is to die in your sleep
Or fall to the elements
Anything to steal away the last 60 seconds
The panic of uncertainty
The all consuming fear of something unknown
The dread of learning, finally finding out
Finding out, in this last moment, that you're more than you thought
Just in time to say goodbye, just in time to lose it
Your infantile perception of space will collapse upon itself
Your time is running out, second by second, precious, more than days
More than years, more than a lifetime

Or perhaps defiant
"I don't even care
Take me away
Get me outta here"

Still mocking the faithful
Hateful and condescending
Giving no quarter
You tell me you are content
With your legacy
"My legacy will be more than enough"
When what we'll remember
Is how you used to smoke all our dope
And when it came time to share
You never had anything more to offer
Than a lousy pinner

Promise speeds along the highway
People and places blurred to the side
How many miles
To the end of the ride

Watch the white lines hypnotize
Paths for us to memorize
So we can drive all night

Cross the state line over the river
Turn on the radio, sing along
How many songs
Could we sing about tonight?

Watch the white lines, hypnotized
Paths we need to memorize
So we can drive all night

Catch your eye in the rear view mirror
Wipe the teardrop from your eye
Pull to the side
Let me drive

I want to share but I fear
The things I offer
Will be useless, unwanted by others.
Through painful experience
I've come to this conclusion.

I'd give it all away
If only someone wanted it.
Mine, all mine, mine alone
But none of it worth keeping
If I can't enjoy it with you.

Pick me clean before I leave
Behind these aspects.
Take what you want, take what you need
But take it, take it all from me
Before the rushing wind blows it all away.

Before the rushing wind
Kindles baptizing fire
To burn all I ever was to ashes
For to fill the gold or silver urn,
Precious to friends blessed by generosity.

A blessing I was more than willing to bestow
With love, thankfulness and appreciation.
All I had to share were seeds of memories.
I can only pray
The harvest will be bountiful.

I look into the abyss
Slow down the spiral
Stare deep into darkness that shines
Envelopes
Embraces
Caresses
I'm searching for a story
Hoping I'll see a ghost
Wanting to follow
The seldom trod path that would take me
To imagination
I want to see movement
Progression
Something I can remember
Something I can sing about
Something I can write down
Something that makes sense

I'm tired
I'm so tired of trying to twist and fold the moment
I'm sick of being so ******* impressed
So sure that I could do no more
There could be anything more to do

I thought myself a sage
I convinced myself I was a poet
Yet my deepest fear was that someone would understand my poetry

Still
Even now the snow whirls a static blizzard 'neath the glass
What I wouldn't give to infuse form and color
Solidity
To mold the void into living dream

Within these same walls
I watched years
Too long taken for granted
Become precious
Once tedious
They fly by me now
Like swift birds
Heading south for the winter

Fifty-three years you'd think
I could feel something by now
Such omnipresent guilt
Poisons my heart
And numbs everything
Feeds upon itself
Distorting

Perhaps I've been breathing the same air for too long
Trusting the wrong mirrors
Believing every word

No matter how strong my arms and legs
The ocean is deep, the current is strong
I have not reached the point yet
Where acceptance embraces it's totality
My lungs still crave air
I'm not ready to change my mind
I look for a lighthouse, a guide through the tempest
All I see are ghosts
Specters that beckon me to darkness
Phantoms I've known all my life
I've lived with them
I've given and taken perversity from them
Foulness, bad blood, indifference,
Anything to wallow in, common ground
Leagues to sink into, each one for you
It washes the oil from my skin, so I rejoice
It demands that I drop the black mask, so I celebrate
The ocean pulls my weakened legs, done with cramping
Numb and useless as my arms, with slow, calculated tugs
The last drops of mud slither down the glass and I can't help but think
Why the hell did I dive in? Did I jump or was I pushed?
What was I getting into?
I still don't know

The only difference between baptism and a watery grave
Is a hand to pull you up and out

I see atoms
Fall down like rain
A paper thin curtain
Hiding the eternal
A weak barricade
Though strong enough

Sylvia,

It seems as if I have taken you
To the point
Where happiness and smiles give way
To hard cynicism
Too early, too soon
Too much for such a one as you
To embrace this vision of mine
Tainted, as it is, with regrets
Tragedies you will never know
Long before you'll have to deal
With your own
I wish I could keep you
From carrying my weight
It is too heavy for the both of us

Maybe I shoved you
Across the line that seperates
Blame and compassion
To a place where forgiveness isn't even an option
For one as innocent as I
Of these things, at least
These transgressions channeled through me by fate
To serve some cosmic purpose
We'll never understand
To work out the sins of our fathers
To examine and analyze them
To ask why
We are the sacrifice for their return to innocence
Awaiting our own

Could it be that I have pushed you
Over the edge
To free fall into the void
Or did you jump by your own design?  
Did the emptiness lure you?
The Siren's song silence you long to know?
Head filled with the foolish notion
That your dreams have been spent
Fleeing from fire, a more palatable alternative
Hoping for shock to excise spirit
Before gravity has completed it's work

Sylvia, my darling
Love of my life
What have I done?
Have my eyes become blind to your beauty?
Is the sound of your voice no longer music to my ears?
Have I become loathsome to you?
What is it which causes you to recoil?
I understand, my love, I understand
I feel the same way when I see my own reflection
The image of a broken man, robbed of joy
Burdened with sadness
Not only for what I've become
But in remembrance of the long, mean road
That brought me here
Set out to journey
Guided until a fork in the road frightened God away
On my own I have come to this
I regret a lot of things in my life,
Sylvia,
But the biggest regret is letting you come with me
You wore me down with your begging
Your pleas that only I could hear
Your devotion, Your loyalty
Like drugs
I was addicted
So I pretended

Now I think you see
Through the facade
Straight into what I am
What's inside of me
Wallow where I once wallowed
Way back when wallowing was the reason
The way to keep the cruelty at bay
I never wanted it to be this way
Sylvia, now I fear
It's too late

I have no easy answers
I have nothing at all worth sharing
You see, I'm wallowing even now
Old habits die hard
The sins of the fathers
They rest upon your shoulder
Heavy or light, the burden remains
May well be you will never lay it down
Until time takes me far away
Until space expands into forever
Until gratitude can only be expressed
At the point where cynicism melts
To reveal love in it's infancy
Until empathy bends the line into a circle
Trapping hope, barring hatred
Within and without the separating wall of Infinity
Strong arms await the impact of the Fall
To break it, caring less for your motivation
Only wanting to carry you home and away

If not, so mote it be
A long as you lay it down
When you lay me down

In all sincerity,
Ted

I lost myself, scratching wire mesh screen
Secured and restrained
Drained of joy, unenjoyed
Cold steel barrel taste on the tongue
Lingers on and on, copper and chrome

Line of sight reflected down tunnel dark
Mirror glass broken shard heart
Squeeze darker, I lost myself
Whirling in a Shaker's dance mosh pit
Pushed to the floor
Trampled purposefully

An abomination for you, ear-plugged
Curses and cursed blessings, already cursed
So that you will know
Who has sent
A priest's lips, a messenger
Turn and stumble

Inquisitive burden a question mark
Burned, hot coal on my tongue
Ringing ears, drowning in vinegar
Raining down into this shell
A Dali masterwork
Frightening all who behold

Tonight I ride the cusp of the moment
Deeper, deeper into infinity
I'm only taking a few songs with me
Let the world move on
Clouds dissipate
Here and gone
Gone nowhere
I'm surfing those clouds tonight
To the eternal center
A few songs to guide me
Tell me what I was on the abandoned side of the veil
See it in the light of eternity
I'll learn it's value
When I can appreciate it I'll seek distraction
Jump back in the water
Try not to drown

She pushed a strange religion
With hand-printed Southern Gothic tracts
Crumpled, wrinkled, stuffed in the pockets of her robe
Though the name on those notes was Yahweh
Her smile betrayed witchcraft
If you tried
You could read it between the lines

On the surface she seemed to assimilate well
The new rules ****** upon her
She tried and tried to take it in stride
But this new paradigm had broken stronger souls than hers
Days like months in the Year of the Snake
Slithered all too slowly towards yet another night
Spent under cover of darkness on hospital beds

She pressed those tracts on me all of the time
At first I'd read them, admire the artistry
The thrift store Ram Dass influences
Collected a few like flyers for R.E.M. shows in the early 80s
Until their true nature was revealed to me
By a voice that seemed to come from my crown chakra
The only aspect of my personality that I implicitly trusted

On the day I left she found out I was going
She could not care less, despite the "love thy neighbor" ramblings of her mission
It only meant that she was staying
Indeed it meant that she would be staying for a long, long time
Long, long, long
She only had so much religion to go around
It was failing her now

The last time I saw her, as I sprinted to the door finally unlocked
I stopped dead in my tracks
She lay on the ground, the ***** filthy ground
Face down, beating it with both hands
Her wails and crying filled the fourth floor
She looked up and her face was grotesque, dripping wet tears smearing and smudging shadow and mascara
Finally broken

I knew the feeling

The man was not the kind to say "I love you"
He'd look you in the eye and you'd know how he felt
When Dad was of a mind to tell you something
He said it with an open fist, a switch or a belt

Dive bombing alone
After all the bars have closed
Dive bombing will sure enough get you low

Hard to watch your father have a nervous breakdown
But no one said that life was kind
One day when you look into the mirror
I wonder who you'll find?

Dive bombing alone
After all the crowd's gone home
Dive bombing was all he'd ever known

And it may as well have been blood
All the sweat, the oil and the mud
That stained his hands
Left their mark on the wood
He did all that you can, that he could
He did all that you can, that he could
He did all that you can, that he could
He did all that you can, more than I ever thought he would
He did all...He did all...
After all, it's only love
And dive bombing is so much easier from above

In which the glass is filled with sand
Minutes into hours, as full as is allowed
Waiting for someone to come along
And turn it over again
Or break it with a hammer
Grains pouring out with shattered glass
The smashing blow of destiny

Impermanence
Life's greatest lesson
Is the most difficult to learn
Almost impossible to embrace
Until one realizes the value of freedom
That nothing lasts forever
Is good news indeed

I took something away from you
It could have saved your life
Or made it more bearable
But I snatched it away
I crushed any hopes you may have had
That it could have helped
All the well knowing, even myself
It would have

Why was I such a *******?
What did I think I was saving?
What?
Some barely recognized cruelty
I'm loathe to acknowledge
But knew even as I weilded fear
To set you back
Reinforce the notion fixed in your mind
That I am a tyrant
I think you are probably right

And if I am a tyrant
The weight of my offense haunts me and drags me down
I only wish I was strong enough to recognize
DO something about it, usurp my power
If all it is good for is destruction

The regret nests in my chest
Squeezes my heart tightly
Pulls tears from my eyes
A secret agony, a transgression never to be confessed
What have I done?
I cannot, no matter how hard I try, convince myself
That I've done the right thing
Like a good father taking away a favorite toy
To punish
God, I pray somehow he can get it back
Even if I'm not the one who can return it
I would let my trespass fester, rot inside me
If only someone else would give it back to you
Or something better

God is getting tired of hearing me pray for forgiveness
For my persistent petition betrays my lack of faith
His forgiveness was granted the first time I asked
I'm still begging after 3 days
Impossible, it seems, to forgive myself
With this regret crawling inside me, will I ever be able to?

My son, take this guilt from me
Spare me my life
That I might be able to live again without this black hole in my heart
Quickly, cut and dig, yank it out
Resurrect my hope, let me dream,
Before it's too late, before I lose you to the world

Son, you are my hero

Why am I sitting here writing this ******* poem, nothing but a ******* poem, do they have such power? I don't remember poems breaking me down, let alone a poem I'm writing a poem I'm not even finished with a poem that hits me hard like a ******* sledgehammer in my heart, hating myself for writing something so ******* pretentious as "sledgehammer in my heart" and wondering if I should have written "sledgehammer TO my heart", every bit as pretentious and with not a whit of power to stop the tears from flowing and oh, my god, I think I'm speaking in tongues this brutal truth, who do I think I am, is this my reward for taking it away from him and yes I deserve this and a lot more and I fear that I will get a lot more if I don't let it out in some other manner than a ******* poem, a ******* impotent poem a ******* poem that has broken me and brought me to my knees, ******* impotent poem, I should leave the poetry to you because YOU are the one with the gift, YOU are the one with the talent, YOU are the one with the heart and mind to create something worth bothering with and I never meant to take THAT from you, but I took away your paper and I took away your pen and I took away one more shred of respect you may have had left for me, and Oh God I Miss You, and Oh God I Miss You and I can't wait until you get home this afternoon so I can be reminded of why I miss you or no, no, that's not quite right, just trying to sound poetic, what a laugh, what a joke, I Miss You when we're in the same room, if I didn't know that there was a little love left, or if I didn't think I had reason to hope there was a little love left in your heart for me, I would find a way to sleep. I'm settled down now. It's okay, no need to call the cops. I'm done with this poem. This ******* poem that has

Opened my eyes
Made me realize
The weight of my offense
My transgression in need of confession
(But to whom?)
That God had better just get used to my prayers
That
I HATE POETRY
I HATE POETRY
I HATE POETRY
I HATE POETRY
I HATE POETRY
I HATE POETRY
I HATE POETRY
I HATE POETRY
I HATE POETRY

I am so white
Chalk-white and dry
Skin like cardboard
Peeling snakeskin
Scattered about

Hard and white
as excavated bones
The dirt of years
washed away and cleansed
for exhibition

what I wouldn't give
for a taste of gray
for a splash of red

Look at these stains
Reminders
The bottoms of her feet
were ***** and yellow
Her eyes were green

A forest of trees
Sacrificed willingly
For the greater good
A medium of memories
Watch your step
The management is not responsible for personal injury
Refer to the Self-Help section
Second room to the right

The ghosts who congregate here
Holy and profane
Lament the passing of their generation
Guard against fire
For one little spark will bring the whole house down
With enough kindling to keep
It burning for days

I remember my first visit to the Bookery
The improbable tales of countless manuscripts
A sea of words, an ocean of ideas
Stories and poems to wear like clothes
A world on yellowing paper
Easier on the eye
A hundred miles I did drive
To find this treasure of treasures
When I got there I couldn't find a **** thing
But it was fine because I wanted everything

No out of the way bookstore or well organized library
The Bookery was a beast in it's own category
The disheveled nature of the books on the shelves
Made it a puzzle to solve
A maze you forget where center is
Distracted by the scenery on the way

Shindig Shaman he do say
Swinging and swaying
Swaying and swinging
Debbil in de prayer closet all **** day
Cursing and moaning
Moaning and cursing
Boss man lookin' for a man of the cloth
Never seen a witch doctor
Never in his life
From the look in Bill Morris' eyes
He's let it in
Deep. Deep, Deep so **** deep
Like a splinter cut off well under de nail
A thorn in his pride turned into something dangerous
Hidin' in de prayer closet, up in dere
Got up in de prayer closet safe and snug
()()()()()()()()()()()()
White collar black crow slipped around the corner
Said, "I heard you had a job for me"
Big Bill Morris lobbed a *** o' spit towards his face
Wiped off what was left of his smile
Turned to meet the shaking Shaman
Who was there to greet the  fakin' man o' God
()()()()()()()()()()()
They turned their attention to the devil in Bill
With Bibles and crosses and charms and powders
They shook it all in da poor boys face
He started coughing and sure enuff
He coughed that demon right on out
Nobody had said a word
He turned around and walked out
Not even speaking to the priest or the Shaman
Who looked at each other expecting
A moral
Or
A punch line
Sensing none they quit each other's company
And returned to their respective homes
The only places they felt comfortable
In their own skin
And though their prayer closets had no demons
Neither had they anything else
And so they felt sorry for Bill Morris
Lonely tonight
And wondered if God dwelled with the other

Let me tell you something
That little varmint was afraid of your names
Too much power you had
To show him he he was nothing special
Another poet, what else ya gonne say? A place for him to stay if he could stay in his place
But he' already decided he's a heavy handful of poems wrapped up in his palm
He's not bad. But he ain't Shelly
Lord Byron he is not
So it's no surprise he comes here
With his terra incognito poetry
Starts the alienation process until five days later
They poked fun at my rhyme
The one I wrote about sweet momma? They laughed it to scorn, called it too sentimental
Each in turn found new ways to burn me
Until eventually
They all became voices in my head
And each voice recited one of my wretched poems and I could see I was only fooling myself
Group sessions didn't go so well
I read their poems, superior to mine in every way
I let thier voices tell me what they meant
And it wa comforting until I realized they were all about me and a vast conspiracy to drive me away
Normally I'd figure this out
But the voice began to be belligerent.
"Get out of here hack" , chanted with the insistant persistence of one who wasn't going anywhere until her will had been done.
I had no choice
They had taken up residence in my mind
Now I had to find a way to rid myself of them

CONTNUED NEXT CHAPTER in which somebody gets their way. Who? What? We'll have to wait to find out.

It
ain't
gonna
be
pretty!

May a bolt of lightning strike
The metal posts of the headboard
Grow tendrils of electricity
Send voltage like a clutching fist
To lift my head from the pillow quite unaware
And flow like so much wobbly frozen fire
Through each essential system
Manifest in its own way
All called by a Voice of Authority
To traverse every inch of my body
Shaking and baking, front to back
Lost in a dream of Iceland's lunar cycles
And how much better the cold feels next to the artificial heat
Artificial heat send me away to where I belong
Anywhere but here
Lost in a jungle of neon signs
Now it's time for an English muffin

Mother, mother, I've lost your face
In the crowd and the time and the lines of age
It's just like you to fade away
To leave me to lions and life this way
Now here I stand, so many miles from where you are
The distance and the time to cross is too far

Father, father, I've lost your face
Though I've tried to forget the pain
It's not like me to cling to memories
That make a fool of me
In my heart I'm still down in the corner
You taught me to be ashamed of all these tears

Wave goodbye

Brother, brother, I've lost your face
And the hope that I wanted so much to replace
It's just like you to drift away
To get lost in the daisy chain of days
If I could offer comfort in your darkest hour
Would you forgive me of those sins?

Suffocation
Alienation
Separation
Wave goodbye

All the answers are in a book
A terrifying tome few understand
I can see these are the answers
Though I'm not ready to surrender to them
How many times have I read this book
Closed its covers feeling condemned
The meeting of sacred and profane too much
The rebellion spawned leads many to skepticism
But stubborn me, I know there's a neutron bomb hiding in there somewhere
One day I'll dive in after a hiatus
See that bomb floating with the flotsam and jettison of all my days
Like it's already detonated once
Or a second time many years ago
I don't suppose I'll ever learn
No, I don't like this depression
Fact is I despise it
But it lays me out flat where I can realize
I thrive in this environment
This retched realization
I don't know how to feel any other way

There were days
Wonder
I remember
Hours ****** into a void
I crushed a human-sized indention
...into a smelly mattress
There it is...out in the open air
And settled in
Tossing about when the time seemed right
To the left, to the right
Head resting on a dark pink forearm
At the sky or into a pillow
Case stained with drool
A puffed up map of another world
Lethargy's creation
Music drifted through my ears
Useless waves
Never catching
The most beautiful melodies in the known universe
Nothing but a ceiling fan's whirling clank
Yet they comforted me
Kept time as good as they could
Gave me something familiar to grab hold of
Maybe kept me
From sinking, falling, clutching at air
Or breathing in water, drowning
In sloth, apathy, illness, hurt
Jumping into the mouth of a volcano
Fleeing from something I had no name for
Something that had no use for a name
All the more fearsome for it
I jumped...I fled...I flew...
I laid down and stayed down
I didn't even recognize sleep
When it snuck up from behind
I wasn't even thankful
For it brought no dreams
Only a quick, painless transition
A tool of prophecy
Pincers to hold shut my eyelids

Now I ask myself, "How long
Ago
That must have been? How long
Since
I rose from the dead?"
That span of days
Seems as forgotten
As the lost time
Hours into days into weeks into months into years...
Though not sacrificed
So unwillingly

I had the right to tell the delusional kid
"You don't know what love is"
I could see it plain as day
I said it full well knowing
I hadn't a clue myself
Does anyone?
Because it changes
It grows or decays
Depending on what who knows?
It is or it isn't
According to whom if it's not returned?
Maybe there you have it
Love is given, returned only if it's real
But that delusional kid
Who thought love was collapsing his world
He wouldn't have known his own face in the mirror
So shadowed it was by hope
Naivete brought him down, not love
Hope is a pale substitute after so long

I know I could break your heart
With one instinct, one hunch
You'd fall to your knees
Either begging or praying
As if they weren't the same thing

With each moment that passes
The heart turns to stone
The flesh dies in time
Still the spirit lives on
Twisted air inhabiting life

Get inside my head, why don't you
Try to understand
From where I've gained this power
What it is and what it means
How I don't even have to do a thing
To strap the heavy burden of regret to your back
You'll carry it until the light of forgiveness dawns upon you
Or until the darkness of helpless realization
Makes it heavier still
Heavier and harder to slough off

Yes, you'll fall to your knees
I'll be the one who knocked you down
Without moving a muscle
Not a single thought of mine necessary

I don't want to do this
You made me
You gave me the power, yes
You
Not even knowing
Clueless as it became stronger
Not even realizing what it was
You were doing
No idea the damage

My great transgression was letting you

When I'm judged
For every moment I've sinned
My punishment will be knowing
I'd opened up just wide enough
For you to jump in
Not knowing how to swim
And for giving you a reason
To hit your knees
Begging and Praying

Maybe I watch these fools
Because I want to believe
Or because I hold out hope
That one has a word of truth
For me
I've always been disappointed before
But I'm willing to accept a miracle
Were it offered
I have a gut feeling
These fools won't be the ones with that gift
To give

So what, then? Why?
Why do I turn up my nose and
Level a sharp cynical stare
At these snake charming hucksters?
I know all they do
I percieve their intention
I hear the lulling lilt of the seducer's song
That rolls like fragrant incense
From their serpent-tongue mouths
Lips chapped and bleeding
I smell the stench of their breath

All have eyes to see
All have ears to hear
Still the blind lead the blind
Their hands deep in pockets

The damage done
I sit and stare without guilt
Because I love to see the deciever in action
All the better I'll be able to recognize him
When he comes knocking at my door

What was the point in staring at your photo?
What had I to gain from it?
Mesmerized and chained to the wall
Bent into a crouch by circumstance and the cruel
Hand of Fate
It was all I had of you
A powerful talisman that just as often cursed
As blessed
For the miles between us were many
And the distance even further
Even if I could have broken a hole in the separating wall
I wouldn't have been able to cross that span
I was too weak and still reeling from realizing it
But I had that picture
A tiny, wrinkled scrap of paper to confirm
That the image in my mind was no dream
Even as time threatened to convince me
Even as time reminded me of change and all it threatened to do
The visage trapped in Kodachrome
Was immune to it
All the while you grew and morphed ever so slightly
Into the almost unrecognizable woman
I came back to
My absence having dragged you down
Into an unfamiliar reality you'd never known existed
Your fear that everything we'd built together, every dream shared
Were for nothing, with nothing to show
It may have been a glimpse of the separation
Impending while hidden, awaiting the proper moment
Just a peek, unbidden, that transformed you
Made you even more beautiful, made you all the more dangerous
Made you open your eyes to what had to be done
The same pool-deep eyes I stared at during that hard time
So intent that they seemed to move
An optical illusion tricked me into believing
Everything would be just fine when we came together again
Fooled me into thinking we would ever be the same
I had grown to expect the angel
Smiling at me from the photo
Becoming more beautiful each time I took it from my wallet
Farther away every time I stuffed it back in

No longer miles, but years neither of us care to cross anymore
No longer distance, but tears that tore us asunder
I don't even have the picture anymore, as if I still wanted it
As if I could still bear to look at it without shuddering

Wondering how I could ever have thought you were my other half
It would only serve to remind me that you were never mine at all
And if all I could have of you is this picture
No matter that it saved my life
I'd rather feed it to the fire

*****************

She had been gone for a couple of months when I found an old shoe box
Into which I crammed every letter she wrote me in days apart
One for every day of the week, six months worth of reminders
She loved me. She missed me. She could not wait until I came home.
(Oh, now I chastise myself for not even remembering what her handwriting looked like)
I stuck them in that Nike box along with our marriage certificate
I drove across town and gave it to her mother
She would pass it
Along
A long regretted final gesture of acceptance
Where, hidden in a random envelope that my love would probably never open,
I had tucked in the photograph
For her to burn

This was my life's work.
It's all I had going for me.
A head in a hand basket and a knuckle-rust sandwich for dinner.
Stored neatly in a corner
Reserved for mice and maggots
Wrapped in used aluminum foil
It's just as I left it
That cold and only day
Far away from grey skies and blue turtle tails.
I could barely concentrate on it most days.
Too much pressure.
Too many distractions and though I realized this was to be
My memories last stand
I couldn't help but feel as if more than time
Was being wasted.

All I could do was apologize.
It's the way my brain works.
Nothing gets done.
I fall in love with the thought of impermanence
Until the cold realization that it's my own illusion  
Whispering away on the wind and no one else's.
So
I fail again.
This beginning is near the end and it's no indication
Of what I'm capable of.
It's an anti-****** of sorts.
If there's a God in heaven,
If I haven't wasted all this life struggling against the weight of damnation in vain
I'll be redeemed in it's eccentricity
For eccentricity is all I've experienced.

Let me say that again.
I've courted eccentricity like a blind lover
Too eager for the afterglow.
The expectations I've hoarded are staggering
They make me an eager handyman of souls.
This eccentric nature I've absorbed
And yet it is loathsome to me.
I crave acceptance but ****** be the man who can figure me out.
It hurts so much to know I've missed you.
The signal resignation that I've been forced to grant normalcy.
Without sense or sensibility.

Should I speak in the third person?
Would you think I was trying to hide behind a character the thoughts and plans and deeds I might not care for your knowing?
Is that something I might do?
Those thoughts.
Those deeds.
Those plans.
They exist be they the property of
I
ME
MINE
or of Jerry the poultry dealer.
The only difference is that Jerry the poultry dealer is a fairly affable fellow.
I'm a *******.

Claire, what was the title?
What was the reaction?
They told me bricks had fallen to the ground, that it took a lot of blood, sweat, tears and heavy hammers to bring down the devil's den.
That foul fortress of despair and wonder
Forever enshrined within the hearts of silly sailors everywhere.
There was laughter buried within those walls
But secrets.
Pain and mystery called together
Your name was not Claire
Indeed I know of no Claire.
It's a constant discouragement, this inability to complete a sentence.
Dualism they say.
They say dualism.
They say "Oh, no good, no good" but what they really mean is "You don't appreciate all the good things you have" and what I really mean to say is that all the good things I have were stolen.
Guilt turns to brightly shining example.
When I was about your age I was out working for a good ten cent piece. Uncertainty is a plague that I've lived with
From the end to the beginning.
When all I really wanted to do was to blow your mind.
Today is nothing.
Everything expands from a moment in time I lived through many years ago.
It may be lying to me.
I am easily deceived.

In school
Looking through our literature book
At the poetry selections
I always liked the ones by
Carl Sandburg
Because they looked and read
The least like poetry
I didn't like poetry back then
With it's sing song meters and
Pregnant metaphors
I was just a kid
I like poetry a lot more now
Though I don't understand too much
I know enough to think a lot less of
Carl Sandburg now than I did then
Which is no reflection on Sandburg
I'm sure I'll eventually come back round to him

I put all my bibles in a big box,
Stacked two-high, two long rows,
That was heavy to lift when the lids were closed.

All the books of theology
Endless volumes of philosophy
Filled five more boxes in the trunk of my car

It seemed that one box was lighter than the others
But I didn't think it was worth the time
To weigh them.

I carried them for 30 miles
Until I found the apartment
Of the old lady who bought them from me on the Buy 'n' Sell

She'd only had five dollars when she made the call
Said her home was lonely, her mind was lonesome
I spent more than five dollars buying gas for the trip

Heaving them out of the trunk with a grunt
I asked her if she wanted me to unpack them, put them on her shelf
"Oh, dear! I don't want to put you out!"

I took the first few books from the first few boxes
Running my finger down the spine of an old favorite
I felt a pang of regret

One by one I handed them to her and she placed them on a wooden bookcase next to a television set
Out of order, no sense of alphabetization, she didn't care
It was stupid of me that I did

Two rows across and two rows down
I gave her the last of the bibles
She marveled, "That's a lot of bibles, young man".

"Yes, it is", I agreed and she turned away
I was so glad she didn't ask why I was getting rid of them
What she must have thought

As if it mattered what some crazy old lady with just a five dollar bill thought
Five dollars to buy a few thousand dollars worth of dusty thought and rusted belief
Forty years of crossword puzzles, the easy ones quickly done, the expert ones left unfinished

So many not even begun

As if it mattered that she could never understand how dumbed down I'd become
Falling beneath life's hard demands
Taking the punches, getting back up again

I could never have told her, whether I wanted to or not,
That those books had picked me up and then let me down
Too many times to count

Those books had given me treasure to take it away
They'd taken my heart, swept up the floors
Opened the doors for Legion

They left me with nothing but answers to questions
When questions were easy to answer
And they teased with the only answer that mattered, refused to give that one up

Through pages and pages I waded and waited
For some kind of hope to go on
Something to show for once and for all that the wading would soon meet the shore

I expected too much of ink and wood
To convey what I needed to know
Binders and leaves could never contain the spoken Word

I tried to give her the five dollar bill back
She could have it all for free, it meant nothing to me
The trip had been a nice one, her manners were sweet

She wouldn't take it, though twice I insisted
But she sternly insisted to me
"There's too many bibles in this here lot, you have to take one back from me"

She was right. There were way too many bibles in that lot
I couldn't argue with that
And though my better instinct begged me to flee I got down on my knee

I reached to the bottom shelf, a pain in my back
I picked out a ratty old paper bound NIV
I'd drawn **** all over it to prove that pages and ink can never contain

The living...the breathing...the mystery...the words spoken
Even more importantly
The silence

I took that old tattered book and threw it
In the passenger seat of my car
I never thought about it all the way home

I rid myself of words and language
Driving through the dark night, squinting at the lights of oncoming cars
Dimly aware of the instinct to look away when they got too close...too bright

Turned my eyes to the right for the seconds until
Darkness returned for the precious time
Before another car came up and over the hill

Up, up, over the hill
In my pocket a five dollar bill
And a bible to my side

If I could ask for anything
I'd ask for nothing
Would that be too much to ask?
Would it be more than you could give?
I could expect nothing less
So I will ask for nothing
Knowing
That my prayer will be answered
It has been answered
So be it

When the earthquake comes
I will not move
I will lie still and close my eyes
Let it course through me
So to be reminded
Of the first time
I noticed you looking my way
How you turned
Then looked back
Wearing a different kind of smile

It was in a single moment
Moment of love and resentment joined together
Moment of lust redeemed by respect
Moment of violence given and taken
It was only a moment
Stretched out like taffy, sweet salt water taffy
Remembered as the beginning
An end to pretending

It was in that moment that I knew what I had
So many times I'd almost lost it all
I understood, mind illuminated at last
By the light reflected in your eyes
That you've been mine all along
To have and to hold
Sickness and health
Till dea...

I used to believe that enlightenment came only once
Maybe I still do
But I thought I'd already been enlightened
No place like the top, nowhere left to go but down
Everything is so boring after you meet God
That's what I thought, sure I was right
After all this time, though, and in a single moment
I realized what a ******* fool I'd been
It's the journey that matters
I haven't met anyone

It could only have taken a moment
No call for more
The gentle play of desire possessing you
Hard passion contorting your face in new, fascinating ways
A secret shared only with me
For my eyes only your curtain falls, your wall topples down
A gift to me, your sharing, taking from me
Everything I've taken from you
Without pretending we're ever going to give it back
Content with the exchange

It only took a moment
You ripped off my mask
What did you see?
Should I beg you to tell me?
Everyday I try to catch it in the mirror
Passing by, quick glance, same old *******
I'll never see myself, know myself
How, then, were you able?
I don't even know if I want you to remember
What you saw in that moment
Even so, I know
I will never forget what I saw
What I found, what I stole from you
I'll carry it with me for the rest of my days
To brighten everything within
The four walls, ever-shrinking, in which I dwell
The rest of my days indeed
Made of moments
But none like this one

I hear…I will…I do not understand, if you are speaking through me won’t you please make your presence known. If not, kindly show me to the door. Jolly rancher, jolly Rodger…Every rose has it’s burden, a shifting stone takes in all it has coming. A stitch to throw in a ditch saves just three under a dozen. Come in and care. Come in and make yourself at home. Come in here and cough up a phlegm-ball. Rest your weary head on my tombstone.

There’s a reason for all the things I do. Do you want to know what it is? One thing, and ONLY one thing: Pepto-Bismol. **** gets things done. That’s my excuse, pardon me, sir, if you don’t get it, you won’t get it you won’t NEVER *** it down in yer soul where it needs to be.

Never so young as you were that day. What a show. What a show. Pretty maids all in a row, fit to a one with tight trusses emblazoned. BUTNER BUTNER BUTNER! Three cheers for Butner. One big long cheer with corresponding slutty ***** dancing routine thrown in for free. From your friends in Butner.

They ate that right up. Didn’t even have to spoon feed ‘em. They’z musta bin reeeel hungery. Sure thought mine was special.

And it was.

Take my pick, that’s the schtick. Maybe the doll in the unwashed dreadlocks? Maybe the gal with the go-hero pout. Maybe the one with the sad dropping eyelids? Maybe the ***** with the genital itch. Maybe the ***** with the venereal sore. Maybe the **** with the cellulite ****.

Or maybe the tiny, mousy mouse of a sprite, never had love look her in the eye, that stuff only makes a man wonder why. Hair shorn short and shut out the lights or you will never see that incredible aura and glow she dwells in like a bubble. She’s the one to choose. She’s the one, you can’t lose, you’ve got nothing to lose and everything to gain, how can I make it more plain? You’re gonna get wet if it rains and I haven’t got time for the pain, Strange Woman. MY woman.

Make some plans for a one night stand I’m a dope smokin’ man and I sure get around and my life revolves around Strange Strange Women. Strange customs. Strange habits. Strange ideas of just exactly how incredibly Strange they actually are. I’ve got mine, now you go get yours. We’re hookin’ up at the dance.

Dilly dance, dance of the week, American Bandstand dance and you didn’t like the words but it’s got a good beat so you give it an 85. You could dance to it.

Such was my hope. Twas to be my destiny, if luck stayed tucked in my pocket I was fittin’ to be gittin’ my share o’ what I got comin’…

…and I did.

For years I danced with spiders
On moldy windowsills
Tripping the night fantastic
Neon rainbows glowing
In dark winter skies
Our island suspended
No center, no linear
Endlessly fascinated by geographical shapes
Intersecting, diverging, refracting
Emerging, spiraling out like an insane Mandelbrot
My dreams were selfish
Worth staying up for

Things that worry me
Is my vision steadily deteriorating?
I look at the iPhone screen in the dark with my glasses off
Is that enough?
Or must I factor in the harsh light from my lap top screen
And the screen on my Kindle HD-X
I will even on occasion watch the television screen
And a movie once every two or three months
But all those I wear my glasses for
It's mainly the iPhone at night I am concerned about
Like I'm doing right now

Let me tell you the truth
My cynicism has evolved into a meaner beast
There aren't too many people I want to get to know past "thanks for the money
God bless" and if you think I really care if God blesses you why then you haven't been paying attention
I can't seem to muster up a smidgen of compassion for anyone
It's been so long since I felt that special kind of affection for anyone
And though it's true that people are typically getting dumber much faster than they're wising up
I'd say it's a wonder we worry about it at all
Or is it all in my head?
Is the Ambien invading entire sections of my brain, one by one, the ones not totally massacred and eradicated by the last ten years onslaught with marijuana of various properties and potencies
I suppose I should level a fare share of the blame on the Great Communicator THC
BUT I'm not a lost cause
Not yet
Not today, I made it through the day
Tomorrow isn't quaranteed

And as far as you know
I'm just the quiet guy in the market
Not a word for anyone he runs into
Nope
Not a word
Thank God for the self -checkout
I may ***** you, it's true
But I'm harmless
Unless attacked
Then I'm a ******* raging inferno
Blessed with precision
I will drag you into my hell
And you will know what it's like to be me
Walking cloud nine in the pits of Sheol