His brother’s on my arm;
Cursing the opposing appendage,
For I’d killed his only sibling.

And I’d lie.
And I’d die.
I’d admit to none other,
But come the beer-scented blood he’d know –

My sibling’d just been married.

My other sibling’d just cursed mom.

My other sibling’d kissed a girl.

And the other, more just than most,

Ventured nether; near and dying.

Leaving me ripe
And if only pursued, by all that’d ever odyssey;
Family, vengeance and nature.
So to, brother feeds.

And I’d lie.
And I’d die.
And I’d admit to none other –
His caress and how my arm’d gone lukewarm.

The only, “kiss,” in years and almost a first,
Come lonely soul to feed, in addition a few more.

I had found,
Or stumbled upon
Where the love-birds –
Rock,
Lounge,
And pave the ways to
***.

My park
By day,
Becomes their park
By night
As they selfishly take away
All the seats
And sights,
Leaving me to drive on,
Drive home
And drive alone.

Accordingly,
I leave the seagulls to roam
And **** on them,
Hell,
Let them
**** on everything
For that matter.

When I gift
Them
The gulls,
I return to the crows
And vultures of
Solitaire –
Scavengers,
As I grow lost,
And maybe a
Little lonely
To the emptiness that I find,
In a one night love
And the run away soon
Afterward.

I don’t smirk,
Smile
Or laugh it away.
Rather,
I almost find a tear
Or a time to cry,
Not quite,
As I keep on driving
Past home,
City limits,
And state lines.

I
Cruise,
Accelerate
And arrive,
Hopeful,
Or reminded,
By the dreams,
Where I don’t die alone,
Or broken
But together,
And maybe with you,
The one I loved
And one I left
At that very same
Park
Atop a night not
Too far
Removed.

It was an early night –
1:00 AM early.
The police passed by
For the bigger problems
And the clubs roared
A little louder than usual.

Loud and aloud while I danced
And danced
The Saturday night stumble –
To the left, to the right
And twice back,
Destination: Home.

I continued too tripped,
Or ripped,
To have a friend,
A little lonely,
But feeling a little famous
All the same and all the while.

I strode with swagger,
Head held a little higher than usual,
Made my way home, slept
And started over tomorrow,
Or was it the day after; the, “numb,”
Could be such a nimble little feat.

It’s a good thing that a cold beer’s
Always just around the corner,
So to, the stumble may begin once more,
And the tip-tap, tip-tap,
Stammer, side-step, fall will
Lead me once more unto rest –

Fallen and without dreams.

Light’s out and star’s absent eyes –
Though I can see the alarm clock,
My blinking red pixels –
        12:00
12:01
Soon to be, 12:02.
.
The sound’s scampered away, leaving only an ear or two –
Debunking a tumble atop vinyl,
A second amongst hours skipping –
“Save me”
“Save me”
“Please save me?”
..
Something to touch is truant, from a once benign hand –
Abandoned so that the scars remain to itch,
And so I scratch –
This one’s from him,
That one’s from her,
But my favorite’s from you.
..
Tasteless pervades a fix, now abandoned, a wind somewhat vacant –
Memories; like our first dinner, tattered and tame,
        Forgotten moments, origins in eclipse
        And the such with no quarter for today,
Let alone something to show for tomorrow.
..
So my nose remains a vestige as I’ve already disemboweled my face –
Leaving all that was, to inhale upon a subtle cognizant;
That certain lucidity in between dreamt and dawn –
As I now divine not the vivid, never flowers,
Not you…but alone,
Finally, alone.
..
Alone, vulnerable and fixed in mistake,
At 12:02, come 12:03.
        …

Déjà vu’s dusk and certain glooms persist,
When I’m drunk,
A foul whiskey
And come closing, with a hand outstretched,
Scouting for safe or surface ,
Any guide or lane away from yearning.

But I do and I want;
I thirst for a tap atop pale palm
And not come my own claw;
But rather the benign I once remembered,
Now “retrievable,” in only dream,
Confined to only dream

It’s when I stub my most remote of toes,
That I realize –
Blood stains white carpets,
I’ve had too much to drink
And have once again forgotten
My way to rejection, ejection and the bathroom.

In desolation conglomerate lethargy
I make my way towards slumber,
Coma’d on my crimson carpet,
Curled into a little ball, afraid like abandoned cats
And lesser the enthusiastic for morning,
Quite the opposite a child and more so the escapist.

I take a
Gulp,
To wash the day
Down,
So very far down
And away from the
Hollow faces
And even paler
Words
That permeate the
Malls, halls
And roads that lead to a
Silent kind of slavery.

I take a
Gulp
To sink even further unto
Revolution, evolution
And nausea
As I witness
The knife
And once more into the
Back,
Our collective back,
Unnoticed, uncaring
And almost wished for.

I take a gulp, I take a gulp, I finish it off.

I grab another, I finish it off,
And another and another and another
So that I may succumb to a
Different kind of sickness.

It’s in this “state,”
No pun intended,
That I can finally see –
America’s
An illusion
And my noose is slightly
Looser
Than yours.