I have been so many people
that maybe I have been you
I’ve known heartache and
making love,
war and poverty too
I’ve seen ghosts and the Messiah,
both sneaking upon the ground
behind the people’s backs
I see graves and mourn
the loss of strangers who are me
There is no way to evade thoughts
of the elusive and unexplained;
but i don’t believe
that any daydreamer
would have it
any other way

Those who daydream excessively
who cannot escape their own mind
they are not real people
They are so many people
in one single body
that their thoughts require
much more attention
They escape to cemeteries
and rivers, to long car rides,
and sometimes only to
the backyard while
everybody talks in the kitchen
They can always be found
in seclusion, though
they’ll wish they
were not.

i love you so much
that i had to scream
“*******”
at the moon
just to feel okay

god is a murderer
a homosexual
a lover
a poet
a submissive *****
obese
bulimic
god is evil
god is beauty
a man
a woman
a child
a drug addict
an artist
an anarchist
a sexist pig
a mother
a smoker

we are many things
flawed and inconsistent
full of goodness sometimes too

they say we were made in god’s image
do you realize what you are saying?

i need to be a real person again
instead of getting lost
every chance i can find
i lost myself in
the way the wind blows
i feel that the answer
is right in front of my face
but i won’t see it until
it’s time to leave

He had a beer bottle
full to the brim
in his right hand
And crossed through
the lines of traffic
screaming
at people
sitting in their cars
He held his hands up
in the air
as if to say
“There is no
stopping me”
When he stopped
and slammed his fist
on my car hood
I averted my eyes
though I admired
some part of him
that I couldn’t
put my finger on

we go together
like standing
in front of the fridge
with a fork in hand
at 1am in the dark
one gulp of milk
straight from the jug
and picking off from
yesterday’s chinese food
that is still cold
and sitting in a to-go box
on the top shelf