This is the story of Fitzy McKowski Obromovich Brown.
He lived in a brownstone in the center of town.

There was a young lady that Fitzy did favor.
Every meeting they had, he made sure to savor.

His friends would insist that his love wasn't right.
But ole Fitzys resolve wouldn't give up the fight.

They said "Fitzy you're slow and a tad too dumb."
And to all their pleas, Fitzy grew numb.

She was too witty too beautiful to be but a thought.
A future barstool story, a what if and ought.

So Fitzy got dressed, he bought flowers and ****.
He found her and asked her lickity split.

They watched Fitzys chin drop down to his chest.
His friends would give Fitzy a wide berth to rest.

One old man hobbled up to ask her why she'd turn ole Fitzy down.
"Because my name is Francesca McKowski Obromovich Brown!"

Fireflies, candles, whispers, and ****.
Blah blah blah
And lickety spit.

You hate your job, I really don't care.
Hike up your skirt.
While I pull your hair.

It's all an illusion, don't be so picky.
Give it a few.
And we'll both be sticky.

The whiskey's gone a cigarette's out.
I'll go get more.
You don't have to pout.

Socrates, Kant, and Tesla as well.
Would stand in line.
To get a whiff of your smell.

We can go again later if you're still here.
I'll get you a towel.
There's some over there.

I'll make us breakfast while you stay in bed.
I'll make you an omelette.
But I want head.

I know it's all sordid and rather risqué.
But life is short.
We all go the way.

Own who you are obscenity and all.
Stand while you can.
For one day we fall.

I’m sorry I can’t fold time and space.
I’m sorry that I can’t promise to be there for you.
It’s seems as if it were meant to be.
At times.
Cursed.
Each tethered to an invisible force.
An undeniable logic.
It binds the will to complacency.
A suffering reluctance.
Acceptance stumbles in, drunk as usual.
And I find myself having to say goodbye.
To the illusion as it were.
My moment to bask in the twilight of a moment in bliss.
Now a memory.
A warm and happy memory.

I don't write because I want to.
I'm compelled to.
I'm not even good at it.
The devil may take me if I'm lying.

I think too much as I've been told.
And I'm under a train of thought.
I typically don't care what anyone has to say.
So why should they care about what I think?

In knowing this. I write.
I drink, I read, and I write.
That pretty much sums up who I am.
Which makes me nothing much.

Huh. Interesting. Not really.

I'm not here to be ridiculed, mock, or even roasted.
I'm just not keen on this party or the guy you chose to host it.

Overhead I hear someone touting their grand beliefs.
Therein is your problem lad, who says you even need a chief?

Parties and their senators the governors and their staff.
These are your dear leaders? Am I to ****** laugh?

The Capitol is a rat king wherein their lies are entwined.
Power, greed, and pettiness plaguing their hive like mind.

I'll be honest, I don't care, my life it seems to never change.
You can elect a ****** waffle, it can't get more strange.

These things you want to happen, it'll always start with you.
You can be your own ignition, you only have to see it through.

So elect yourselves an Eggo, a ******, or a *****.
Either way I'll bet my *** in four years you'll want a switch.

There wasn't a method only a madness.
There was no serenity.
Only a sadness.

The stars will shine and the skies will cry.
Neither one cares for,
you or I.

The oceans will foam on the mouth of the wind.
While it whispers your name,
Now and again.

As supernovas go you were by far the brightest.
You needn't worry about that girl.
Not in the slightest.

This song isn't over and with you I'm not done.
For you are my moon.
And I was your sun.

The fireflies dance to your every whim.
Though unlike you.
They sometimes go dim.

This isn't goodnight and it isn't farewell.
Say it again.
Jamison Bell.

When I saw you there in the rain. The red light from the drugstore sign draped over your shoulders. Your hair clinging to your cheeks and how the raindrops fell from your lips. And I thought about what you’d said before. That time in the car.
You went out and bought that fragrance. And I remember because the sun was about to call it a night. So it kissed you on the cheeks and I could see your breath as you let out a longing sigh. Your cheeks, left in a soft crimson afterglow.
Since then. I’ve been pondering whether or not I should cut out my tongue. Lest I say those words in the wrong order. The ones that can’t be taken back. The ones that stain the fabric of what we’ve woven. Though there are times I’m sure I was working this loom alone.
And so Andromeda waltzes onto the celestial stage in a dress of light and smoke. Wistfully twirling about a star speckled landscape as mysterious as she is mesmerizing. She leaves me with an enchanting sadness.
Exhausted fingers fall in thuds on the keyboard. Tired of raging against the might of apathy they trudge through a swamp of words. Scouring the sludge in hopes of finding just the right combination.
Before the echo of an empty whiskey bottle awakens the moon again. And the coyotes emerge from the tree lines to beg the moon for forgiveness. Could you tell me again? Could you tell me why? Just one more time.

Sometimes I want to tell her. I'll stand in the doorway and watch her do her hair. It amazes me how wonderful she is most of the time. I'm not going to paint her as a saint because we all have bad days.
I want to take her hand and sit her down. I want to look into her eyes and tell her the truth. I want to hold her and tell her it's going to be ok.
I'll never understand why she's with me. She tells me she loves me every once in a while, usually I have to say it first. I don't let myself buy into it though. I know the truth already. I know she doesn't. She couldn't possibly. It was made clear to me a long time ago and I'll never forget it.
Still though.
I want to tell her. How amazing she is. How happy she's made me. How awesome it's been living the illusion.
And how my heart is in the process of calcifying due to a condition called valvular stenosis. And how my prognosis isn't good. How my heart gets tired sometimes. How I can take her shopping and wait while she tries on clothes. Make jokes just to get her smiling. All the while my heart is killing me.
"Honey. I'm dying at a much faster rate than you. Wanna get drunk?"

The hate that I carry for certain things is somewhat irrational.
Like local news, national news, **** I just hate them all.

Corn on the cob, a ****** slob, neither of these are appealing.
Al ****** Roker a **** hand in poker or the noise of tires squealing.

Exhausted cliches' the word cliche and **** you Betty White.
She's not that funny, she's not even clever, to tv she's but a slight.

If you tell me your christian I won't even listen to what you have to say.
I could bid you ado or say *******, each and every day.

Don't get me wrong I know of my hate, I said it doesn't make sense.
Capitalism ***** poodles are ugly and voting just makes me tense.

Now tell me how I've killed your vibe you karma believing ****.
It doesn't exist no need to persist, your insistence will get you naught.

Very old knots, those ****** themed slots, and even the unicorn.
I'd strap his *** to a watering board and saw off that ****** horn.

You want something pretty? A little less ******? Than all my putrid hate.
I'm good at this game and I know that it's lame and by now it's getting late.

For now I must leave you I probably won't grieve you and I won't say that I'm sorry.
I needed to write I do it in spite of the fact I have no talent.

There was once a fuzzy bunny.
And wow he liked to ****.
But just as life would have it.
He was **** outta luck.

So the fuzzy bunny away he did go.
To try and bust a nut.
He hopped down to the deli.
Where he hoped to find a ****.

Awkward was the fuzzy bunny.
For he wasn't well endowed.
He talked to many ladies.
Though none of them he plowed.

Then the fuzzy bunny he just went dark.
Depression took its toll.
He would snort pancake mix.
Smoking whatever he could roll.

Well things they just don't end well.
The fuzzy bunny took his life.
Things escalated quickly.
When fuzzy couldn't find a wife.

I am neither despondent or a respondent of I.
I just accept what it is with a soulful sigh.

From the halls of my mind I relish to find a plight more sorrowful than this.
A missed opportunity a forgotten gratuity or a misery that began with a kiss.

To open my eyes and still see the same lies that still permeate my way of life.
All the forsaken and who are mistaken and some who just live for the strife.

So much turmoil still setting matters to boil and where were you when I looked around?
I screamed and I shouted I stomped and I pouted, and never did I hear your sound.

I have arced my neck to gaze up at the wreck the celestial gods have created.
Touch them I can't so it is that I shan't and so again my dreams are abated.

I hope when I die not that you'll cry but that I may then return to the light.
Not because I belong but to hear that song that'll bring that moment back into sight.

I want to keep my eyes open I know I will cope when I see something I've hoped would be true.
Under an undying tree the sight of me sitting across from you.

i’m lost
alone
and broken

you don’t matter
never have, never will
you don’t even matter to me
and I’m you

I don't know how much I was allotted  at birth.
I've squandered most of it. Alone. Like so many others.
Wondering, hoping, wishing, and scared.

Will anyone ever love me? Why doesn't anyone call? If only. I'm going to die alone.

Out loud these thoughts never emerged. Cloaked behind stupid jokes and momentary lapses of reason.

Now that I'm older. Now that I've come to realize these questions, like so many others. May very well go unanswered.

I've resigned the inquisitor and sent the hangman home. Deciding instead to list these thoughts as beautiful mysteries.

Cigarettes, ***, and whiskey cloud my mind just enough. To keep the book closed. The book will always be there. I know it by heart. Though I'm tired of reading it, hoping to find something I may have missed.

Of all the chapters in that book. My favorites are the ones of you. I never finish these chapters, because I know how they end.

I want so desperately to believe the illusion.
To think I can be one of those people.

I like to listen to other people. The things they say.
What they did. Where they went. Who they were with.

I kid myself sometimes.
I let myself believe I'm one of them.

Till I'm staring at a bottle of scotch at a table alone.
The bottle reminds me. It's just a dream.

I drink but I do not curse them. I don't blame them.
I wouldn't want me there either.

Still though.
What it must be like.

I won't find out in this lifetime.
In this life it's just me and the Jameson.

Family gatherings. Holidays. Parties.
I watch them on tv and wonder.

What is that like?
To be surrounded by people who want you there.

Every acquaintance I have is paid for.
I rent out the illusion of inclusion.

I pretend that where I am is where I'm wanted.
Until I've fixed the railing or solved the problem.

Or handed over the cash.
Once this is done the illusion vanishes.

I'm asked to leave.
"You should go."

I hear that a lot.
Until the next time.

When they'll need money, ****, or me to fix something.
Then I can relish in the ideology.

For a moment.
I have a purpose.

My story?
I know you didn't ask.
I love two women.
They're both off getting plowed by other people.
I'm trying to drink myself to death because my heart disease is too painful.
Yayyyyy life.

It comes from feeling incomplete
Loneliness
It’s a poison
Eventually it gets to be too much
And the cure
It isn’t just someone
It’s the one
The hand in the dark
The one that smiles when you walk into a room
The whisper that asks if you’re ok
Absent these things
The loneliness thrives
Until the soul says enough

At times.
It seems like I've got a bag literally filled with **** tied to my waist. Because I think or I have convinced myself I need it. That I am to suffer the weighing stench my own failings.
Well **** that ****. I'm human. And I hold no doubts that there are far worse than I in character by comparison. Am I the best I can be? Probably not. However I like to think I'm doing a little better than the guy wearing a diaper while being led around the room by an under aged Cambodian girl. That ******* has issues.

It's in your nature, so I'll forgive you.
You are human after all. It is intrinsically not your fault. So do not look to me for judgement. There by the grace of god, go I.

You're going to lie. You're going to cheat and steal. You'll manipulate, cast aside, accuse, and destroy people.

You'll do it for love.

Love will be your justification.

It's what we do. We're not swans. We're human.

I like conversations in the rain.
Empathic words soaked in urgency.

I like fields of tall grass layered in fog.
Tired clouds on beds of green.

Tattered flags hopeless in salvation.
Beaten down by years of neglect.

Unwarranted smiles from strangers.
Moments of blissful silence unheralded.

Few are the things I can relate to.

Why should I rage?
And not let the light die.
So that you can feel better?
What about I?

The rain will fall,
The sun will still rise.
Do you not see pain
Behind these tired eyes?

If your heart is true
And you say your will is just
Then let me go tonight
Because go tonight I must

The light is not a balm
It does nothing for the pain
So if it’s all the same to you
That light is actually my bane

If you should find
A place for me in there
That beautiful heart of yours
Please let it know I care

An extinguished knight.
Adrift to the whims of the night.
Stirs restlessly.
When left to wander the corridors
of memories.
Torch them!
Render them to ash
Paint the world as you see fit
Very well then
Paint it black

This here, is poem two hundred.
Nothing rhymes with hundred.

Well it's been a few years since you've been gone.
My mind done left me, it went out for cigarettes and never came back.
Just like my Pa.
And my dog.
My mom,
The UPS girl.
Yup.
So anyway. The heater broke a while back.
Yeah our sow Peggy died.
My kin and I we'd each take a night spooning her.
Warmest **** pig you ever snuggled I'll tell you what.
I miss mind.
You don't have a tarp, some crayons, and an ax by any chance?
Yup.
I lost my mind the day she went thataway.
She mighta taken it with her.
So she took that and the remote control.
My thumb says your from Alabama but you don't smell like jelly.
Yup.
Having her in my life was as good as dropping the toast and having it land butter side up.
Cause then it's still good.
You leaving?
Where ya going?
To get cigarettes?

Of all the clocks to choose from, I think I like four the best.
Nothing much seems to happen at four, if anything.

Whether it be in the evening or in the morning.
There's a softness to four, a calm before the storm.

It was three that took my mother. Eleven, my father.
I said goodbye to my friend at eight and two once tried to **** me.

Four seems to be waiting for something.
Even in slumber it keeps an eye on me at all times.

I suppose it waits for me. To take its hand before.
And not until I'm ready to go.

From the changing of the seasons to love and it's lack of reason.
We seem to have become indifferent thinking nothing is sufficient.
So these words we pen with fire, wanting to inspire.
Fall softly on jaded ears blurred by careless tears.

I had a puppy
I'm happy to say
But my puppy
He died one day

I had a mom
To me she said
******* I think
Your puppy's dead

So my puppy I took
Way out in the yard
I dug her a hole
And read her a card

"**** you puppy
How dare you die
Leaving me here
Alone to cry"

The more I thought
About her death
And how I watched
Her last breath

I began to hate
This ****** mutt
Just laying there
Her eyes are shut

How dare you die
And leave me be
"It was a truck
What didn't you see?"

Stupid dog
I hate you now
You broke my heart
I'll get a cow

A cow you see
A gentle grazer
For when she dies
I can braise her

Until that day
She'll be my friend
We'll play fetch
My heart she'll mend

So ******* dog
You're inedible
This here cow
Will taste incredible

I don't want to dispel you,
much less repel you
from these things you may already know.
I seek not redemption,
I'm not worth salvation,
I just wanted to see the show.

Let us forgo the pity, the pious,
and pompous
and share just a thought or two.
Life in illusion, the ***,
and confusion.
With no understanding or clue.

Of course I adore you.
I long to explore you.
Your crevices and your thoughts.
I won't allow you to blame me,
much less shame me.
This cheetah isn't changing his spots.

Yes I'm convicted
but it's you who's conflicted.
I know exactly where I stand.
I've been through the trial,
I'll wait for your smile.
It's better when it isn't planned.

I still remember her breast,
along with the rest.
I imagine it looks nice in the sun.
Close your eyes
and I'll tell you no lies.
To my heart your words hold a gun.

I'm caught in your current
I spin like a torrent.
When the sound of your silence expires.
Hamper me naught,
in your web I am caught.
I'll be here till you decide to retire.

I imagine you’re sitting there. Listening intently. Hanging onto every word until the next one comes along. There are bottles on the counter and nobody cares what time it is.
A mist of existential reconciliation permeates the room and that ****** candle just will not die. Your eyes are doing that thing again. Where the spirit of the one caught by them, longs to throw itself to their mercy.
You’re going to smile and the room might as well fold in on itself because nothing else will matter at that moment. The moon tries so hard to get a glimpse but the blinds are pulled.
And I, the wretched Hop Frog (it’s a Poe reference), clawing away at my chest from another world away. Desperately trying to get at my heart, if for no other reason than to prove that it’s there.

There are so many things I want.
I want you to be warm.
I want you to be safe.
Happy.

Then again. It doesn't matter what I want.
It only matters what you want.

The truth will set you free they said as they pulled down the final curtain.
Me thinks they're full of **** I say, and of this I think I'm certain.

Dare I jest or tempt the feathers of that cherub and his arrow?
Curse that lad for he's a fool and he looks a little like a sparrow.

Quell my words and rest my tongue, for its not I who holds her heart.
To tell her so would bind my time, and the clock has yet to start.

I've barred such freedom from my dreams, this lie is all I need.
This illusion is all I have for now, for I am measured by my deeds.

You silly fat ******* these things you don't see.
Your political rhetoric ****** sickens me.

I tire of the lies the half truths and the like.
I'd be pleased to place your head on a spike.

As a warning to anyone who would bring forth hate.
Every four years this **** won't abate.

May I suggest we try something new.
You all go away and come back with a clue.

As to what we can do to make things change.
What sort of policies and laws to arrange?

I may have written down a suggestion or two.
I'll go and retrieve them if you'll just give me a few.

Here's one I wrote while I was high one night.
Free Doritos for all an inalienable right.

Ok so maybe that one isn't so suiting.
Give me a minute my system's rebooting.

These beliefs you hold onto, have just got to go.
Too many variables and things we just don't know.

Persecuting someone because of what they believe?
Have an idea instead, then you'll have nothing to grieve.

Try teaching your kids to be not like you.
To be a good person and not as soft as a shoe.

To say what they mean and mean what they say.
Change will be here tomorrow it takes more than a day.

Stop pandering to the big corporate *******.
Leeches I say! The lot of them! Suckers!

Pharmaceutical companies? They profit from pain!
What you're paying to live? It's ******* insane.

We're brought up to think more money less time?
To ponder or question is considered a crime?

**** that, **** him, and **** her too!
It's time for change, we should try something new.

Worst case scenario? I'm entirely wrong.
I know I'm repeating a familiar song.

Let peace rule out and let's all get laid.
To hell with whitey! Let us all get paid.

Look I'm not really here to bring you peace.
I don't really care about you or your niece.

But you're asking me questions pertaining to matters.
My mind starts a ticking and synapses scatter.

So I give you my thoughts and feelings on ****.
I just found my bowl, it's time for a hit.

So take it or leave it I don't really care.
You don't like my answers? So go over there.

They’d say “he’s got a heart of gold”.
I didn’t have the heart to tell them it was gilded.