I had a cranium full of
graves
that I didn't maintain very well
sometimes I'd water them with wine
and
imported beer,
sit back
and watch the weeds
grow
wild and out of control

Now I slice lemon and
drop it into my water
spoon honey into my tea,
and my ****** hair is a matchstick
past my chin
I no longer stow the flames
or conserve the coals
or bleed from my orifices  

I go to and from my overwhelmingly-underwhelming job
staring at the cracks
in the asphalt that cancer and
split
forming little rivers for the rain-
water
to flow and congregate at the curb

I know where to find you
drunk in the garden
having another existential crisis
conversing with the plastic pink flamingos
they think you're 'hollow'
and that your exterior is too polished
he sees his own reflection when he looks at you

Your youth was made up of  
cringe-worthy hair styles and room temperature beer
with the taste of **** and vinegar
and the prospect of milk and honey
alas, you're 24 now
perfecting the art of escapism
disenchanted, delusional  

You're just clearing your throat
to say nothing at all
ahem
and continuing to romanticize recycled lifestyles
in the name of authenticity

When you begin to wonder
wonder what it all means
that's when it'll get you down
you can't scratch the surface
of purpose

You stumble in the darkness
fumble for the nearest light switch
or anything
a table leg, a television stand
a tigers paw
anything to remind you
that something is there
flesh it out
dry as a bone or
drunk

Life was
and is
a series of letdowns
false starts, faulty brakes
expired milk, premature *******
flat tires, flat chests, flat soda
the world was flat
for awhile

As soon as you stop and think
about Sun, Moon, and Stars
that's when you realize
you're a matchhead
in forest fire
a drop of **** in the vastness of the ocean
nothing more, nothing less
nothing?

Maybe that's the point of it all
a dash of cosmic modesty
you never saw the ants complaining
or the flowers weep,
for very long

Just get out of bed
and put your t-shirt on
one leg at a time

this poem...
is aptly named
for I have nothing to say anymore
perhaps I never did

I just sigh and scratch my scalp a lot