The only figures
you need to worry about
are found in textbooks

Autumn always leaves
A mess for us to pick up.
Snow way we'll have time.

I should be thinking about you
but I am thinking
about inevitabilities.

Like how my dog's life will end before mine.
And how my heart isn't even beating half the time.

Maybe it would be better to relax our grip.
take our eyes from the sky
feel the string slip

There's biology and there's sociology and there's
plenty
of other people out there, man.

and

We'll pop
either way
or deflate
someday.

I am going to buy a billboard
in the middle of some city
Big white words on a ******* canvas:
"Stop romanticizing love."

City people in their white city shawls
holding their black city umbrellas
will stop and laugh or take a picture
City people will walk on by

I tried every piano key and
the door to your heart or soul or brain or
whatever, just won't open
One part of me wants to try my shoulder next

I'm going to start a support group out here
We'll play chess and read old newspapers
A circle of lovely, miserable silhouettes
Complaining about our animal instinct.

It is far easier this way.
It is easier to believe the stories.

We do not know just how wrong we are
But we are vaguely aware.

Someday I'll think back
forget your name for a sec.
Until then I will enjoy
Watching you dodge my gaze.

Sometimes chess
is a lot unlike love
because there are only six types of people
and half are good
and half are bad
and half can never go backwards

But sometimes chess
is exactly like love
in that it is far more fun to give up on winning
and make out
on top of the broken pieces

It's like you jump out
Like high definition
Like they're all selfies

You need to re-think
Your fatal font choice mistake
Calibri? Really?

I climbed up the church
I leapt off the steeple
I went through to Hell
Like other holy people

I don’t know whether you spoke in poetry
or spoke in cliches
because cliches are just poetry that has lost its life
or lived its life
or run out of life
And if thunder strikes or the moon shines or you are crying on the other end of a cellphone,
anything's poetry anyway.

God might make poets,
but he can't make poetry.
How reassuring.

Our love is a poem
with no reason nor rhyme

Probably a bang?
We think it all exploded?
Probably a bang.

It's like using the same water bottle for years
five days a week
and filling it up one morning
to see it's sprung a leak

It's like laughing at the dealer
Smiling, "I'm all in!"
when you know the way the cards are dealt
there's no way you can win

It's that sharp old hill near Grandma's house
the driver speeds over to make the kids shout

It's the cow who can't help but walk up stairs
and needs a crane to get out of there

It's the waves of twenty-three thousand oceans
trickling to a stop
and all I can see in the entire world
is an astronomical dewdrop

No reason to live
without a bit of evil.

I fell in love at a McDonald’s. I expected it to happen in an overpriced cafe or a fancy Italian restaurant, but it happened at a McDonald’s and it was love all the same.

We were on our way back from the beach. We went whale watching but the ocean could have been empty for all the fish we saw. We paid good money for a caricature of the two of us. The graphite image of a happy couple with our faces sat in the back seat of your car. It would be framed and put up. We went into the sea as deeply as we dared and laughed and screamed as the waves came and came and came.

We were driving home with bits of mountains and boulders stuck between our sandaled toes and that’s when you pulled into a McDonald’s.

You ordered a sandwich, 100% real beef, never frozen, and asked me what I wanted. I said I would have the same. 100% real beef. Never frozen. I hate spending time and money on that which can only be consumed. We sat down with our food underneath the fluorescent lights next to a Happy Meal kiosk and I decided that I was in love with you and it was love all the same.

"Has it not never occurred to you," he said, eyes rolling like dice,
"The grab to bake cannot be left undone?
The neck to slip will save the top of leg?
When they lift we ****** the rotten *****?
Six trots can win the flat softball netting?
Lost rocks find tabs undone by the grandpas?
It's like unbecomingphilomancy!"

You know what I mean?

The art of the poet is showing.
Red hearts do not show a lot.
We can never improve without knowing
Which words work well and which do not.

So next time when words touch you,
Truly let the poet know.
If we 'like' and heedlessly rush through
Good poets will never grow.

She gives the gift of gab!

When her love snapped onto my back, like a rucksack to be worn
The old me died, a rambling man was born.

My words are playing a twisted game of Temple Run
The monkeys are her eyebrows, cocked like pistols, and we're playing Russian Roulette.

My words are emptiness and hot air and imagined shapes, yet not nearly as two-dimensional as constellations.

She's a phrase I just learned, and will incorrectly overuse.
She's a worm in my ear, impossible to lose.

She feels like two cups of tea at three in the morning.
She feels like assembling an RC car without reading the instruction manual.

And by God, those eyebrows.

I need her like rocks need water and snow needs the sun.
I want her like turtles want to fly and eagles want to run.

She's that feeling when rain comes down on an empty highway.
She's half a bottle of Elmer's glue I just dribbled onto my hands.

I miss her like broken bowls miss Cheerios and holey socks miss feet.
I miss her like diarrhea misses constipation.
I miss her like NBC misses viewers who have turned to online news sources.
I miss her like journalists miss exposés.
I miss her like polar bears miss ice caps.
I miss her like avalanches miss snowy peaks.
I miss her like Hiroshima survivors miss World War One.
I miss her like cities miss silence.

Mostly, I just miss the silence.

There was a
girl, girl
dyed her
hair, hair
got
red, red
got every-
where.

Her hair
bled, bled
down the
drain, drain
clogged
up, up
the red came
again.

She tried to
keep, keep
her passion
tame, tame
the
beast, beast,
who always
stained.

But after many
nights, nights
spent al-
one, one
drove her
out, out
of her
home.

She followed
him, him
and his white
shirt, shirt
got red
quick, quick
-ly he was
hurt.

She tried to
flee, flee
so he could
live, live
a happy
life, life
without
strife.

but,

The man
smiled, smiled
a pinkish
grin, grin
-ning because his
hair, hair
was her's
twin, twin
hair was
blue, blue
like the
sea, see
his hair runs
too,
and
two
plus one makes a purple
family.

Times like these turn your mouth into a gullet
your frown into a scowl
your yawn into a howl

Times like these make drunks alcoholics
you scamper then you walk
you scream then you talk

These are glorious times, my dear
They turn our boredom
into your fear

creator
destroyer
voluminous ends
quick beginnings
do-all
done-all
will-all
no starts nor stops
thick like sloppy kisses
thin like passing talks
All this hid inside a clock

I learned from my dog
to turn around at least thrice
before settling down

You won't remember
Howevermany years on,
what she was wearing.

If only you were chocolate
you could make my stomach ache
If only you were tea
you could burn my hands as they shake.

If only you were empty like the big old ocean
I could laugh: "There's nothing to see,"
a pleasant conclusion.

Some say it's only love if it never goes away,
Some say love changes by the hour, by the day.
Some say love's only real if it's shared,
Some say unrequited love is everywhere.

You all don't know what's fake and what's real.
You all don't know how Romeo and Juliet feel.
It is time for the self righteous bullcrap to be over.
Let's put love back in the hands of the lover.

I'm pretty sure I read that if you put enough gaseous oxygen into someone's veins they'll die.
And every day for as long as I can remember I've needed the stuff
Although I've never been able to hold on to it for very long.
And I know in the end of Jaws a big tank of it exploded.

What I'm trying to say is that maybe you and I are one of those tanks.
The ones they keep in hospitals and submarines and other lonely places.

Concentrated emptiness.

Deadly,
Delicious,
Detonatable.

We're two one-sided cardboard pieces
Segments of a cloudy sky
It looks like we would fit together
But we won't
But we try.
But we try.

The bottom of the mountain is waiting
at the top of the mountain
And home is just over that hill
If more hills are the home you know.

And you will celebrate your birthday this year and next year with the same faces in different places and every time you slow down a little bit.
Which does not necessarily mean you are close to the top.

The painful part is how he talks like me.

I've got buckets of hands
and they all want to be around you.

The average human body is about 65% water
When I see you my body is about 88% water

I'm satisfied with approximate rhymes.
Like to rain again.
Or to lie for eternity.
I'll say your name for years, that'll sound off too.

Bobbing your head to your favorite song
You lent me an earbud
White noise

The painful part is how he acts like me.

Or maybe it isn't him,
or you,
or me,
maybe it isn't anything at all.
Wouldn't that be terrifying?

We're cruising along in your old off-beige '93 Ford Fiesta
The one with the great sound system
And I am miserable enough to drive us off a cliff

We crash backwards into the water,
Unbuckle each other's seatbelts,
Open our respective doors,
Grab each other,
And drown down there
Because we won't let go.

There was a child of poetry
Who was struck with no small calamity
The words ran away,
The poet they flayed,
Until came no small charity

The child met with a man
Who had a simple demand
the words go away,
if your passion you will pay,
And yes, I would say that the cart was put quite before the horse, I'm sure you would agree.

Long, long run
Deep green woods
Thunder claps
Darkness falls
I am
alone

This poem is thumping like a boulder
at the bottom of a river
And last year’*****
is fighting static on the radio

We sat against the waves
all day yesterday
I still feel the rocking
That anti-movement

The best part of a meal is right when the food arrives
I’d rather stay hungry than be satisfied
to stop wanting
to stop chasing

I sleep on the ground
to be farther away from you

the whole time we were stock images
choreographed feelings
unrealistic props
and a well timed photographer

Now we’re stopping in yesterday’s parking lot
and today’***** has turned jarring.
They’ll be running our circles
long after we die.

I made a dozen
peanut butter and jelly sandwiches
before my mother came home
and took the knife out of my hand

I’m running to you
like you’re a pint of Ben & Jerry's
and I'm lactose intolerant

It stays in my mind
like choking on medicine

It’s like that pregnant silence
when the waiter asks
“together or separate?”

It’s like driving up a mountain
or criticizing the lack of representation in a Hallmark movie
alone from my couch.

There’s nothing poetic about stalking you on twitter.
but it’s part of the story so here’s a stanza about it anyway.

[Pause for effect]

I hope next time we meet
you’ll ask me how I am
I’ll tell you I am super
and both of us will believe it
again

I hope one of us will smile and say
“0ne day”
and the other will notice the typo.

If I could rearrange the alphabet
I wouldn’t just put U and I together
I’d hide all of the other letters far away,
because it’s only words that come between us
the
forgetfulness of a line break, the, uncertainty, of a comma
if I could rearrange the alphabet
I would forget about the letters that make up H-E-R
and probably leave the D out altogether.

If you were poison
I’d take you anyway

If I could dive to the bottom of the ocean
I wouldn’t look for the Titanic
or an Octopus’s Garden
or Atlantis
or any of those other cities
I’d look for the reason why we can’t be together
beneath the choppysurf

Relationships are like shoes
One person is right
and the other person left

There’s not much to say
She likes to read
and she likes to laugh
and she has traveled through her entire life with her head held high.
She gives me heartburn
in every sense of the word

Love’s not a house to be bought
nor a prize to be got
not a mountable beast
nor an expensive feast

Love’s not a race to be won
nor a task to be done
not a stamp to collect
nor gold to prospect

Love’s a library book
that every time makes us cry
or giving name and shape
to ***** of plasma in the sky

Love’s a little nook
that we can burrow if we try
a ceaseless spate
within which we will lie

Swinging ponytail
Clipboard, high heels, black shades, nails
The weave to end all

Singing Hotel California's guitar solo
Or talking about living our lives like Thoreau
Teeth clenched fast in every photograph
Shaking quietly, trying not to laugh
Using the word 'us' without even thinking
Proudly proclaiming how much coffee you've been drinking
Smiling like you've won the world, staring at the ground
Asking me what's on when I play music too loud

It’s like
I came, I saw, I conquered
Except
I came, I saw, then I conquered.

It’s like
And miles to go before I sleep
Except
And miles to go before I can sleep.

It’s like
“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!”
Except
“Beware of the Jabberwock, my son!”

It’s like
“I love you too.”
Except
"love you too”

It’s like
a snowflake.
Except
Five hundred thousand ******* pounds of ice

It’s like I woke up one morning and didn’t want to make you coffee anymore
It’s like I left the door unlocked and nothing was stolen
It’s like I teased you about your hair and you didn’t pick up on it

It’s like the next five hundred thousand years got real close real fast and there's only one thing I can think about,
and that’s how when I say your name my voice cracks
and when I say her name we do.

We laugh upon this empty rock
We smile as we run our circles
Giggling rats
Lice swaying in unison to our meaningless song
The black ground heaves
with laughter
Let’s go waterski
above the empty sea
You’ll find me snorting and choking and twirling in a hailstorm

Carpet to the wall
***** colors dancing shapes
Gosh my back is sore.

Every self defeating metaphor anyone has ever birthed
A mug of orange juice in a giant’s hand
Three tablespoons of soil that you will misidentify as dirt
A motif specific to the reader
The sound of a tree falling alone in a forest
A manual titled Insects in the Garden of Today: Pests & Benefactors
Three redwood seeds in a row without pause

I am petting the dog
though it will die before I

I carry it like a rucksack.

The problem
with promises
is that sometimes
they are
*hardtokeep

Who knows tomorrow?
Who cares about yesterday?
I love you today.

“How do you know when you’re in love?”
"Well,” Jack said, gazing out the windshield at the flickering stars, “It feels like drowning in a thousand oceans
starving at a feast
driving
with your eyes closed
and the windows down.”

“Really?”
"Rhetorically speaking."

“It feels like sleeping naked on the beach.
an anchor deep in your chest flung overboard
rain
on the window
of a moonlit apartment.”

“Really?”
“Rhetorically speaking.”

“I love you, Jack.”
“Always and forever?”
“Always and forever.”
"Rhetorically speaking.”

Sometimes I get sick
or my legs feel dead
Sometimes I can't breathe
and I can't get ahead

But one run in a dozen
on a day like today,
the world says with each footfall,
relax it is okay.
relax it is okay.

Thank you for the invitation.
It truly means a lot.
but see, there is an indication.
the stable has been locked.

I can't consider diving.
I'm already waterlogged.
it's best to not be trying.
best to remain uninvolved.

I'm definitely nobody's prince,
I hope I am not charming.
my heartstrings are already tangled
we both found your poems alarming.

But keep on wandering along, friend,
professing love to random poets.
I'm busy with my own happy end,
and you'll find yours, I know it.

We don’t hate God or the Lord,
We don’t hate the guy who made Flappy Bird.
We don’t hate hate Mommy or Daddy,
We don’t hate people who treated us badly.

We hate a star of infinite girth,
We hate the force spinning the earth.

So sleep away sunshine, the world’s turned its back on you.
Just sleep away sunshine, and spin a dream of something new.

Isn't it sort of silly
to number words
instead of ideas?