As children we played pretend in the playground
I shot you
you're dead, you're supposed to fall down
back when we were kids
when *** heads were junkies
drunks a sloppy mess of ugly
and the only cigarettes we put in our mouths were candy
we used to ding **** ditch the entire neighborhood for ***** and giggles
and hangout just to talk
now we raise dabs of felony hash oil washed down with rubbing alcohol, cancer, and razor blades
the clocks melted before we could reset the hands
and all of the tools we need have been turned into resin covered smoking apparatuses anyway
walking city streets alone wasted in the witching hour
praying some crazed *** pulls a blade
so we can at least die in a fight

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

Get loud for Christ's sake
shake the walls
vibrate
black out red
we killed twelve Pakistani innocents with unmanned drones
and this silence is getting under my skin
there's a disturbing lack of politicians hanging from flagpoles across the country
no I didn't hear the new Q94 top tracks
and say yoloswag one more time,
I dare you,
you can find your teeth in the back of your throat
burn polo and nike to the ground
turn the CEO's over to the sweatshop workers
this quiet will **** us
but until it does
I'm off hunting
so don't find yourself on the wrong side of my iron sights
thin the herd until we near extinction
righteous fire is cleansing
and we will rebuild from the mountain of corrupted ashes
impotent rage is a trait of the youth
and I'm young enough to pop
if these airwaves stay dead for much longer

If you only ever get a glance at one shot at fiery heaven laughter
don't just sit there on your *** thinking now isn't the right time
time is relative so all you have is now
right now
so crack a naysayer in their pearly yellows
because walking around zombified through fields of green and seas of brown
is only one razor blade away from suicide
and I don't want to be insensitive
(yes I do)
but if you walk along the easy road you'll find only cowards
get the hell up
put some ******* pace in your step
drink a gallon of gasoline,
eat a match,
and explode
it's the only way they'll ever see you

The road I take to get to your house -
the long way because last time I rushed I woke up in my upside down car -
winds in tight turns
banks left sharply
only to snake back right
barely wide enough for two vehicles
up the hill and under the railroad bridge
right by that patch of grass
the precipice of a cliff
your legs hanging over the edge
me sitting Indian style a few feet back
wishing you wouldn't sit there like that
a year ago on that frigid December night
before I picked up a couple more drunken scars
"I'm cold. Come here."
and certain fall to my death or no,
I've never been good at saying no to you
so I moved closer
hearing the screams of men who lost their footing
and I let you bundle up against my gigantic hoodie
one strong gust of wind
one false move
and that would be it
but I didn't think about getting up
and that says the most

At the desk of my childhood bedroom
the chair with no stuffing
the window open where I stole smoke breaks
the wood stained ink and graphite
a pen: black
a journal: leather bound and lined
I used to doodle in classrooms rather than take notes
and that's what these poems are
silly squiggles from a mind too preoccupied to listen
and I'd like to hold onto this habit until I'm old and grey
and I hope
that I am still not listening

it's all alright
quit worrying so much
for just one second
you did everything they asked on the app
wrote your essay
brought it to the lady at the front desk who irked you so when she asked,
"You've never been abroad?"
you'll get in
walk through the door onto that plane
maybe a 767
maybe some other form of human packaging
mixing elbows and hips with everyone else bound for the country I once called home
it'll be about seven hours of careening through the air
seven hours an angel
Heathrow is crowded and a wave of people threatens to take you in their riptide
but you'll be better than fine
in the middle of all of those great buildings
I mean,
****,
it's London:
one of the greatest cities in the world
and if anybody should be there
it's you
and you might get lost over there
in all of the faces of strangers and opportunity
and that makes me happy
it really does
but at the same time
I'll be here in Richmond
good old Richmond
our Richmond
doing my best to be supportive
doing my best to walk the straight edge
between waiting and living
doing my best to get your face out from behind closed eyes
You're going to London
and I'm going crazy

everybody watch the **** out
there's a nineteen year old trying to get profound over here
it all started when I was kid
thinking
why am I not one of those poor bloated African kids on the TV?
why am I an English school boy sitting to close to a TV?
meaning
meaning
meaning
meaning that there has to be some reason for all of this
but I got older
dumber
jaded and bitter
and I think I've figured it all out
no really just hear me out
the meaning of all of this
from womb to tomb
is that there isn't one
deep,
right?
but life is like a cartoon fight
a cloud of dust projecting fist
boot
asterisks
wavy lines
and we're all in that melee
and we're all going to get our teeth kicked in
life's one tough sonofabitch
and it's been doing since before there was a before
my point being
you can't beat life
and you can't avoid it forever
all you can do is hope
that when that ball of cartoon extravagance has settled
you'll be clutching onto the things you need
the things you want
the things you love
and you'll still be able to stand back up

Change the pace, replace, then sing
The words, unheard, the tempo focusing
And unto hallowed voices bring
A little bit of clarity

Please part the clouds of smoke we've made
While songs of hope burst like grenades
The smog now cleared, amidst the haze
So we therein might find bright day

Barefooted runs, dirt between toes
In chorus, a million solos
Rise up, a message from the globe
Live more, cry less, sing as you go

she could walk and talk and toe down the line
between thrift shop flannels and expensive black dresses
wrapped up in the layers and folds of your duvet which was so thick I sweat all night long
I woke up ti the light forcing it's way white through your plastic blinds
I woke up in my boxers and skin
next to you in your underwear and skin much preferable to mine
the recipe went my arm your body my other arm
and whether or not we did what everybody's thinking we did that night doesn't matter
nor does words we may or may not have said
but it matters that I was smiling when I woke up
to see you still there
my arm riddled with pins and needles
smiling
and the weekend before
we went to the haunted house
your hand clutching mine tightly
I wasn't scared
but I clutched at that life raft as hard as I could
as I lead you through dark tunnels and corn fields
it was good to see you
it will be better to see you again