It was just a game
We played at night
Just before the dream world
Spell a word on our backs

When you drew an "I"
I said, “I love you”
You said, “Good guess”
My turn

I drew an "I"
You said, “I love you”
I said, “Good guess, but no”
I have to leave

That was twenty years ago
I still remember that
It’s a game I don’t play anymore
I would never get beyond “I”

It was unexpected
How could it end so soon?
Without warning
A life’s crescendo
Like a song ending at the second to the last note
Never to hear the final note
No closure

My soul awakens,
Into darkness that knows no light
A blackness that offers warm comfort
Encased in the fluid of life
Mumbled voices I cannot interpret
I am clutched from my cocoon
I can see light and nebulous shapes
This is new life and soon
I will forget a past life

His hard eyes stared me down
The remnant of a smile
Now a distant memory
It’s funny how the eyes can relate hatred

Out of nothing came a blow
It made me see stars-for how long?
I can’t count but I’m a **** good smell sensor
What I did to deserve that smack, I may never know

I miss my friends from that place
I don’t know what they call it but I remember its smells
*****, ****, fear, and death
Why did I have to go home with this guy?

It started as soon as I got to his digs
Couldn’t hold it
There were others here; I could smell them
But they are gone

I used to remember everything
Now it’s a blur
Head smacks all the time
I hate the stars

What a fool
He took me outside and unlatched the spike collar
Took off, full speed
Not looking back, gonna find another pack

It’s called self-fulfilled prophecy.
I control my destiny, but I don't have direction.
I’m called a failure, but by what measure?
The cards are not in my favor.
Who will judge me?
Fate is not a comforting idea,
It has a formality that lacks purpose.
Why do I fear it?

A forceful pace, it's not a race,
When reading just for pleasure;
Your book is due, you never knew,
More time is what you treasure;

If I were Love
Or the rain
Or that prickly feeling
Or the pain
I would be
Above all
And below
A wretch
If I were Love
Or the dirt
Or the dust
Made up of rust
I would be
Love

I am tangled by your rhapsody
Sullen words deftly said
The rise and fall of the harvest moon,
Will ever wonder why we turn away

I sit alone, at a table,
meant for someone other than me.
Waiting for the flash of inspiration or
a synchronistic event that
will change my plasticine life, molded
by someone other than me.
I’m here, when the sun fights its way to
be seen on it’s lonely track across the sky.
Today it’s cloudy but somewhere, the sun is out,
only to be seen by someone other than me.
I read your email and wonder—Why?
Why would you choose someone other than me?
I read the news, to take my mind off your email,
and read of a man, hanging from “The Black Bridge” and
wonder—why does it have to be someone other than me?

It starts with an anonymous thought
The voice in my head that screams lies
It sounds like me, but in a higher register
Repeating phrases that will not stop
Competing with the high pitch ringing

I open my mouth to exhale and allow it to escape
And close it quickly, preventing reentry
I stand at a distance and observe the voice
As it is reborn into another monster,
Each time a manifestation of the last

To slay the monster only allows a metamorphosis
The thing grows larger and more powerful with more words
Words like vinegar and baking soda
I know when it will quiet down
But I’m not ready to die yet

They say; but who are they, that say,
That cloth is my armor
It shields me from the unknown and unknowing
It hides my nose and mouth but doesn’t hide my shame
I am unrecognizable, unnatural, and anonymous
I lose my unwillingness to protest my anonymity on the ignorant
I have waited a thousand lifetimes to hide in the open
To see and not be seen
To breathe the stale air of my breath
And exhale the poisonous gas that would otherwise be words
Lost are those with false entitlements seeking to resurrect past ailments
Pity me and madness, they say
They are to whip up a storm; a gale
Phones at the ready, for another star, will explode
A supernova at the entrance of Walmart
They dim before the Sunsets
They turn into a Black Hole and Donut Holes then,
*** holes.

A silhouette, dark and hopeless
Casts a heavy shadow in my mind
A ragged edged sword
Used for mutilation,
Begs to be released
But beyond all hope,
It is stilled in its hopeless scabbard
Death of a friend, averted

She came upon me with the weathered wings of a late winter nor’easter
Howling with screeching ecstasy and the anticipatory trance that follows
The piercing, splintering painful delights that reaches into my depths
Enigmatic eyes that judge my every motion
I drop my guard; flinging my shield of past tragedies to the barren ground
I’m caught in the sticky web of love
Wrestling halfheartedly attempting to convince myself I have fought the good fight
I hold on tight to anything within reach before the gales of temptation commence
I sense pain, delight, emptiness, belonging, blackness, and enchantment simultaneously

She holds the power of life and death in her grasps and won’t release her hold until I allow her to suffocate my heart

The dimly black craggy door
That hides bottomless secrets
Opens and closes with hollow cruelty
And is silent as the moon

So difficult it is to knock and let myself in
Pushing is useless, like pulling the trigger with the safety on
I have dreams of passing the threshold
And scream “Echo” in that empty room

Hearing nothing in return
This is where I awaken, a dream in a dream
All the lies I’ve seen and wear as my skin
A fabulous mask without eyes or a mouth

My house is painted a rainbow of monochrome
One door, Two windows, A chimney and a garden gnome.
It is where you will find me
Hidden away under the floorboards

Looking through the cracks of gleaming pine
Shaped like man
White satin sheets to comfort me
And a new suit

I don’t want your salvation
I just want your understanding
The streets I walk are empty now, filled with regret
The sky is overcast with despair, thundering its agony
I have no memory of our dreams anymore,
All flushed away in the remembrance sewer
I feel so alone
If you continue to embrace my state, you can expect to be disappointed
My expedition into the underworld is well trodden
If it helps, I’ve overcome this journey before
A whiff of jasmine and sandalwood has stirred me before
A bright autumn day or a brisk summer breeze
Has been known to pull me from my the subterranean vault
And yet I have always expected another return spree
Always anticipating and strangely joyful
That this will be the last trip
And I will finally find the peace and quiet
Of the vacuum of space

He’s taken at the end of spring, alone in
White sheets that are wrinkled and soiled.
Never to smell the bleach and rubbing alcohol
The ambient sounds of the ICU floor, with
Ringing, buzzing, beeping, and ethereal voices.
Eternal peace, they say when he is given last rites
He can hear what they are saying, but it’s still a dream
Wake up and rise like Lazarus
But the voices are farther away, and the light is dim
He doesn’t have the strength to play jacks as the
Voice urges him to come out and play.
Flashes like lightning and muffled tin can, ringing like
The bells at mass before the taking of the Eucharist.
It’s time to wake out of this dream
He has things to finish. To start. To do.
Pinching himself doesn’t work like it used to.
Rolling and screaming. Nothing.
The tin bells turn to cow bells that turn to Jingle Bells
The movie of his life plays faster and faster
Eighty-five years of home movies
The curtain closes as he says,
This must be eternal peace, as the voices say
Fade to black

It starts with an anonymous thought
The voice in my head that screams lies
It sounds like me, but in a higher register
Repeating phrases that will not stop
Competing with the high pitch ringing

I open my mouth to exhale and allow it to escape
And close it quickly, preventing reentry
I stand at a distance and observe the voice
As it is reborn into another monster,
Each time a manifestation of the last

To slay the monster only allows a metamorphosis
The thing grows larger and more powerful with more words
Words like vinegar and baking soda
I know when it will quiet down
But I’m not ready to die

Closer now to endless nights,
As voices, muffled
Like a seashell to my ear
Telling me to let go, in rhythmic harmony,

I fight for words or a groan; a cringe would do,
A silent and dark world has encapsulated me,
My memories will soon evaporate,
A collection for eighty years,