I dream with all the fervor of a hero
Which is to say that I die in all of my dreams
Fitting you being there
More fitting you not being here when I wake up in a fit and reach for you
Both silently telling me that all I'll ever be for you is a well written story
I'm sorry they can not all have a happy ending
I know you would like me better that way
But tell me Cinderella what's a happy ending if all you're ever drawing are straight lines
Tell me Snow White what is a happy ending when you already see it coming
Tell me Jasmine what is a prince if never a pauper
Tell me Sleeping Beauty why did my kiss not wake you
Were my lips chapped
Was I too eager
Did you find my heart impure
Well I'm sorry pretty little princess
My hands are soaked in dragon's blood
I have felt the bones of castle guards break between these fingers
Is it so hard to imagine that the champion who finally tore down your walls
Would have a little dirt beneath his nails
A broken rib
A hardened heart
It is with that, I kissed you
It is with that, you slept
It is with that, I returned home
And as it goes
And as it always goes
The next man came
Armour shined
Shield cleaned
Sword sheathed
His heart full of nothing but ambition and intention
And a little blood on the bottom of his shoe
And it is with that, he kissed you
It is with that, you awoke
Satisfied

On the night the last star fell from the sky
We took your grandmother's quilt to the trampoline in my backyard
Tangled beneath it
You shaved that day
I did not
I felt rude
You wrapped our legs together anyway
We watched them shoot across space like tracer bullets in a star war
Like a silent firework show in August
And sometime after the bats went back to bed and before the owl woke up to stretch his neck the last star fell
The night was so dark that there is no way you could've seen me staring at you
You blushed anyway
You always used to say you hated holding hands
I always assume you just didn't want to touch a sinner the way you touch yourself to thank God
You grabbed my hand that night and never let go
We spent what was left of yesterday trying to remember the shapes of constellations
Tracing them with quivering finger tips on each other's chest
Trying to guess its name from the feel of it
You were pretty good at this
I just kept guessing Orion's Belt until you felt bad for me
Inevitably speaking a star landed on earth that night
It was in the brown grass where the pool used to be
You must have kissed it while I wasn't looking
Your lips tasted of heaven
I thought you an angel
But you were still alive
I know this
I could feel your heart beat in my shoulder

The thing about fingerprints is not that, right now, there are seven billion different unique fingerprints on seven billion different people.
It is not that in all of human history no one finger print has been repeated, making, if my math is right, which it's not, twenty trillion individual fingerprints.
Nor is it even that none of the quadrillions of people that will come after me will have my exact finger print.
No, the thing about fingerprints is that they are utterly useless
Which is to say they serve no practical purpose in the survival of the **** Sapien.
That's a lot of effort to put into something that is pointless

2.
If we were created in God's image, then God was a man and
I imagine he took Sunday off and came back to work on Monday like the rest of us.
So maybe fingerprints haven't been forever.
Like with snowflakes maybe God's just doing some interior decorating lately.

Or maybe Saint Peter was kicking it with God in the break room at heaven and was like, "Dude...we need a new system, too many people are dying and I can't keep looking up everyone's deeds by hand; it's taking too long."
And in a moment of genius He was all, "I got this bro" and invented the fingerprint
Then went down to Best Buy and got one of those scanner things for the pearly gates and now when you die you just scan your finger and it auto-populates your deeds and if you get in it's all awmmmm and the gates open,
And if you don't get in it's all whup whum and you fall through a hole in a cloud in the sky and land in a fiery pit of hell.

(My parents stopped making me go to church in 2nd grade so my visions of heaven and hell are colored in crayon.)

3.
I wonder if the image of God sitting at a desk with a protractor, compass, drafting pencils, and tracing paper designing each individual finger print all day long comforts you?

4.
Maybe we're some Alien sociology major's thesis and our fingerprints are our unique identifiers for tracking and data collection purposes

5.
When I started this poem I thought maybe fingerprints are keys.
As in someone out there has the fingerprint that unlocks me.
But I've loved more than once
Hurt more than twice
And had a lot more *** than that
So unless this key unlocks something I've never heard of my lock's broken and I need to know who to call about that.
But I don't like to think of myself as broken anymore.

6.
Maybe when God's little helpers are making us they slice off a sheet of skin from the butcher roll, spread it out flat sticky side up on the stainless steel slab.
Grab a set of bones off the shelf lay them down and like canvas around a frame stretch the skin tight around our skeleton.
Starting from toes, to the knee, over the shoulder, around those pesky elbows
Until they tie us off at the finger tips with twine, cut the excess with sheep sheers, let it heal.
Fingerprints.
Our our little "Heche en el cielo"

7.
When I fall in love for the last time, I will dip my finger in red paint.
I will roll my finger across the bare chest of my love and she will wear it there
Like a tattoo no one else could give her.

8.
Maybe there is no point to fingerprints
Like arpeggios before a concerto
Maybe God was just warming up

9.
Maybe fingerprints are the point to everything

10.
Maybe an omnipresent God is at every birth
In every bedroom, hospital, and taxi cab
In every town, in every city, in every country in the world.

Maybe every time a baby is born
God, takes the time to name it
Then writes it down
In a language only He understands

I watched a plane fly through the little dipper.

The trees rustled

My back ached

My mind was jumbled

Your words spun in my head

We danced

Intertwined

Our bodies calling, "love!" to one another's collar bones

We embraced

I watched a plane fly through the little dipper.

And when we were flying
It looked like we weren't going anywhere
As if the earth was spinning just as fast as our plane was flying
As if the wind was blowing just as a fast as our plane was flying
As if the same pencil thin stretch of clouds sat hovering just below rows 11 and 12 the whole time
Until the overhead bell chimed
The light came on
And the captain told me it was time to tighten my seat belt again
I was going to get to *** soon
And the flight attendant said, "Welcome to Boise"
My heart fluttered
And when I sat in the front seat of the taxi I closed my eyes
Looked out of the windows of the plane again
And I saw it then
The earth moving so fast beneath us they ought to have called us super heroes
And we could not have made it here faster.

I need one more
I need to forget a little more
I need to remember a little less
I need to remember a lot more
I just need to remember it differently
Better
The way I wrote it
The way it ends when I'm sleeping

Dear bartender
Make it a White Russian
As white as her dress would've been
One Pina Colada
Tan as the sand would've been
One more Gin and Tonic
Sparkling as her eyes
***** Cranberry
Red as her lips
A triple shot of silver tequila
As clear as my intentions

Marry me

Bartender I want to drink until I forget she said no
Bartender I want to drink until I forget I ever asked

Dear Bartender I want to drink until I remember she said yes
***** til my head rings wedding bells
Gin til my body ticks raw rice
*** til my cheeks flush honeymoon
Tequila til my ring finger itches
Whiskey until she loves me too
Whiskey until she come back
Whiskey

Don't bury children in suits
Let them wear their favorite clothes
Let them wear their favorite basketball jersey
The sweats from the college you can't stand
That **** sweatshirt that you can never get clean
The tire-tracked underwear
Let them wear it all
Let them wear the clothes you could never get them out of
The ones they slept in
Played in
Dreamed in
Just don't bury kids in suits
They're not going to a job interview
They aren't atoning for a lifetime of sins
They're going to the great playground in the sky
They need to be able to run around
Bury them in overalls
In the baseball hat with sweat stains
The pants with holes and grass on the their knees
The shoes with the souls that flap when they walk
Let them wear the straps that the Velcro keeps falling off of and you keep having to put it back on
Put it back on
Put them in the casket
And make them smile with your thumbs
They didn't do anything wrong
We did
We let them down
Don't punish them
Don't bury them in a suit
This is our last chance to do something right for them
Bury them with those candy necklaces they used to shoot across class at the girl they liked
Give them all their Halloween candy back
Fill the grave with hundreds of melting dilly bars
Slip them a ring pop
Please don't bury them in suits
Don't comb their hair
Leave the dirt under their finger nails
Don't fix their collar
Or shine their shoes
Let them wear their Victor Cruz jersey

And for those of us lucky enough to live in one of those small towns the whole world doesn't know how to pronounce yet
Lucky enough to not live in a dangerous city
Lucky enough to trust the locks on our front doors
To trust the bus driver
To trust our neighbors
One more cookie before bed.

In every moon there is a man
And in every man there is a heart inside of which lives a woman
Who doesn't clean
Who doesn't cook
Who doesn't serve him
Only lives within the walls of his heart
And within every woman living in a man's heart
There is a desire to be free
It is not odd to imagine her leaving
Merely odd to see her go
Riding on the back of an elephant
In high heels
With a bottle of Chateau de Michelle
And weilding the sword of a swallowing minstrel
Drunkenly yelling songs of a time in which she never lived
And that will never leave a man
Whether the next woman comes in riding a golden chariot pulled by blazing reindeer
Or mounted on a shark wearing a cocktail dress
And while he laments her going
She regrets her ever having left
So she turns around
Looks into the vast nothing behind her
Trampled under the weight of the elephant
Cut down by her drunken fit of rage
Burned and eaten by the coming and going of others
And she sees
That beyond the husk of the home she once knew
Lay merely arteries and valves
And no soft place to lay her head
So she dismounts her companion
Lays down her sword
Crashes the bottle upon the rocks
Tears the heels from her shoes
And limps into the desert
Looking for that which she had already found
While he lie
Filling the emptiness of his ravaged heart
With the tender touch of fleeting acrobats

It's a weird feeling, being in love and lonely all at the same time
To put your whole heart into something you can't see
You know long distance relationships are tough
But what's hard is looking across the room at the eyes you love
And feeling every inch like they were miles
Seeing your cheeks turn to stone when I try to make you laugh
Feeling every could-be-kiss like a character from a book
Reading their stories
Making my heart race
Leaving my lips as dry, chapped, cracked as they always are
I sweat in my sleep from your body heat
While my veins freeze over from the warmth of your affection
I keep looking at the thermostat because I don't want to be cold anymore
But we're already sitting in our own *** sweat at eighty two degrees
And I can't make you care enough to smile anymore
But apparently I'm trying hard enough to get you to stay
Or more accurately hard enough for you not to leave
Leaving is hard work anyway
And feeling loved is nice
I imagine
At least that's what I've heard.

This morning I woke up intent on living morally
I had pizza for breakfast
I then took ten minutes to decide if my diet was part of my morality
I am clearly not ready for this conversation

In the family I come from God has only ever been the fastest way to count to twelve
In the family you come from God has been a source of peace, joy, love, purpose
My sense of purpose comes from Regina Spector’s voice
And my peace is in Amos Lee
My way is not better than your way

Let go and let God
Or as we call it Step Two
Is scrawled on so many scraps of paper
Half started journals
And carved so deeply under my fingernails
I’ve made letting go an art
I just haven’t got to letting God
When I was in pre-school my teachers told me how impressed they were with how quickly I learned to count to twelve
I told them I went to church a lot
They were confused

My dad likes to skip steps when he counts to twelve
My mom is really good at two through twelve but can’t really remember how it starts
My sister has counted to twelve so many times she forgets how important it is to go slow
The only reason I’d ever have to count to twelve is to feel apart of this family

It has been seventeen years since I have last said the name Jesus with ants in my pants sitting on uncomfortable church pews with my mom’s hand on my shoulder
And since then I have only ever thought to go to church three times
Twice in Memphis when I was trying to find Al Green
And the third was the first real conversation you and I ever had outside of Mrs. Kidwell’s class when I briefly thought if I found a way to go to church you might go out with me
However, I quickly came to the conclusion that if that worked I’d have to continue attending church to keep going on dates with you

When I was twenty two I tried to read the bible
I never made it past the begetting
That’s not a joke
So I tried to have someone explain it to me
That plan failed

Most days I can get by
I can be happy
I can turn the radio up and dance myself into peace
But on the days when I lock myself in my bedroom
Grey sweatshirt and basketball shorts
Tubs of Ben and Jerry’s all over the place
And The Spill Canvas at eleven over my stereo
I sometimes consider turning down the music
Getting on my knees
Putting my hands together and giving it a try
But I always get tongue tied just thinking about it
So I make a playlist full of songs that have the word God in them and hope that counts
Because some days you just need help and no one is answering their phones
But I don't think that's how God works
So I text you about your day
And you say something about a movie,
Book
Song
Something some little kid did to you
And I swear I might as well be in the front row of the First Baptist Church of Macon Georgia
Because I am filled with the Spirit.

Not every text message to you is a trip to church
And you’ll never know which ones are
So please don’t worry about it
I’m grateful to know that when I can’t figure out how to talk to God
I can find a way to talk to you
Because in the seventeen years I’ve been forgetting hymnals
I’ve come to one conclusion
Salvation, Heaven, Faith
They are where you look for them
They are what you want them to be
They are yours when you call

Sometimes I make myself imagine a world in which I was the kind of man, who could imagine, being a man, who could dream, of having the guts, to possibly, one day, be the kind of fella who would make the kinds of choices that would eventually catch your fancy
It is hard to do
I am not that kind of man
And that is okay
I will never be that kind of man
That is also okay
This is more than okay
I'm not here for that
I'm here for me

Tomorrow I will attempt to live morally
I bought Honey Bunches of Oats so hopefully I’ll make it out the front door
It seems I may never be ready for this conversation

I will kiss new days with the same wonder I always have
I'll just be doing it before I brush my teeth
There is no one left to impress with minty fresh breath

Sometimes when I forget hand lotion
I run my fingers through blades of grass
I rube the dew into my pores
Long blades of grass smell better than short blades of grass
That's why I never like mowing the lawn when I was little

When a baby cries an angel gets their wings
When little kids laugh our cat runs and hides
When I blow bubbles little kids laugh
My cat is very good at hiding

My mom thinks I listen to my headphones too loud
I think if I blow my ear drums listening to rock music
Then I'll never have to hear anyone say good bye again
That doesn't sound bad at all

I will stare in the mirror with the same discomfort as always
Only this time it will be after my shower
I still have someone out there to impress with my unassuming good looks

I don't always get dressed
But when I do
I prefer to wear clothes
I don't always wear clothes
But when I do
I prefer clean clothes
My iron broke

It takes a village to raise a child
It takes a city to raise a Gaga
It takes time to heal
It takes a clock to see that time
It takes a man to build a clock
Therefore it takes a village to tell the time

I wash my sheets every time I cry
I am very sad about you leaving
But I'm out of Tide
And I can't afford another bottle
I'll cry on pay day
It's just not in my budget to cry today

I am six inches taller than the average American male
In the summer I tan quite well
And with a few extra minutes in front of an ironing board and a mirror
I clean up nicely

So marry me now while I'm still desirable

I am good at cooking in fact I can make a safe assumption I'm better than you
I enjoy cleaning especially vacuuming
oh and I'm great with kids

Please marry me now while you're young enough for those things to still impress you

I will impress your parents
Your friends will ask how serious we are regularly
I will make you blush from the volume of compliments that you receive from me

So please marry me now while those are still things you want

I want to live on a beautiful island
Where it's warm all the time
And on this island I want it to snow
Three months a year
And I want those three months to be
November, December, and March
And when it snows I need it to be seventy seven degrees
And I want the snow to stick
Here I imagine Jack Johnson, Jason Mraz, and Zach Gil will sit around playing music
They'll play from noon to around ten
That's when Kwali the local pool boy ends his shift keeping the oil out of the ocean
Kwali he plays the Ukulele and sings about beaches no one's ever been to until around midnight
When the perpetually burning bon fire dies down and the island falls asleep
As for the rest of the music here on the island
Every morning there's this old steel guitarist
He's from just south of New Orleans
A place called Under Pressure
Really it's just the hull of the broken fishing boat he was born on
But he calls it home all the same
And a kid who used to play trombone for the high school jazz band
But he picked up the harmonica after he found out chicks don't dig trombones
And the two of them sort of play old dixie
With a steel drummer who never seems to find his shirt in the morning
But you never really mind that
And on Sunday mornings this really old woman
Ssays her mom was Harriet Tubman
Which we all know is a lie
But she's got scars from head to toe so you might as well believe something
Man she wails
For two straight hours
She wails
Wails to God, to the heavens, to Jesus, Georgia and the first row of church
And when she wails her tears are a lost language from the tower of babble and we all understand it
And on Wednesday
Wednesdays
We waltz
We waltz to really old records
That we play on the only turntable on the island
That Mr. Lee drags all the way from his house to the community center with no walls
And the whole island shows up in summer dresses and Matthew Mcconaughey shirts
Even the one we call grandma
And her husband who everyone calls Uncle for some reason
Come dressed to dance
And we all leave our slippers at the door this place doesn't have
And the sand warms our feet while we waltz
Sometimes it's the Tennessee Waltz
And sometimes it's the Viennese Waltz
But most of the time it's just the waltz we all learned in eighth grade
Either way
Every Wednesday there is a beautiful girl
She's five five, maybe, five eight I don't know
I've been lying on my drivers' license since I was sixteen so I don't know how tall people really are
She's got south pacific features
But with my track record by the time I actually make it to my island she'll probably be a red head
We waltz
We waltz until the records skip
And our legs turn to Jello and all we can do is collapse in each other's arms
While the ocean tickles our toes
Our finger tips tickle each other's palms
And we let that guy in the moon do the rest
So when you see me set sail
If you can catch me you can climb on board
And if you can't
Then
Wave goodbye

These are my knees
Lord
Cracked in a daily attempt to win your affection
These are my hands
Dear Jesus
Callused by one another in an oft futile longing for an answer
This is my throat
All Mighty God
Made rasp and torn from a constant calling of your praises
This is my neck
Oh Holiest of Holies
Strained in a forever upward gaze searching nightly for a sign
And these are my eyes
Son of God
Charged with searching for you in the stars
With directing my feet towards the purpose you have given me
Oh Lord
These are my eyes thought blinded after years of failing to find my path in the constellations
But blind these eyes are not
Oh Sacred Lamb
For these eyes
Creator of all that is good
See the bunions on these feet from a lifetime of walking atop your great magnificent earth
In an effort to survive
And these knuckles Carpenter of Nazareth
Are bloodied by the labors of man, for men, for the service of man's world
And this tongue, not of Satan, but of your creation
Oh Lord
Is twisted in a defense of my undying devotion to your love and to your empathy
And this back
Oh Heavenly Father
Has been made *******
Not from the weight of your cross in an attempt to share the burden of your sacrifice
No Lord
This back is broken from the weight of being a father to man
From the burden of society
And from the weight of the home I keep
Though I would never
Lord
Son of God
Question your ways
As mysterious as they seem
As they are your ways
Creator
Guiding Light of Man
Nor would I have the gal to belittle the accomplishments of our Savior the Lord Jesus Christ
I must ask with my knees planted firmly in the earth
My hands clasped
And my gaze towards you
Oh Lord
Son of God
Holy Shepherd
What good are the golden streets of heaven if my feet can not walk them
And what of the beauty in the pearly gates if my back can not afford the strength to open them
And lord how could I ever face you if my knees
The knees from which I pray
Oh Holiest of Holies
Creator of the moon and the stars the heavens and the earth
How could I ever face you if my knees can no longer kneel before the feet of my King
I could never
I would rather stand in the face of Lucifer himself
Than fail to kneel before the will of my God
For that I could never do
And what then
Lord
What would you have of me then

I am often under the impression that old fashioned street lamps
The ones with eight sided glass and black ornate poles
Are strategically placed by the city planning commissioner's office
To let me know the wardrobe is just a few dozen feet away
And it will take me away from this Narnia
If I just open the door

My phobia of opening doors gets worse every time I think I've finally found it
Only to walk right into the girls bathroom after lunch
On five alarm chili day at the cosmetology school in Little Korea Town

I don't like watering the plants
It makes me wonder why mother nature fell asleep on the job
But the plants are always telling me the rain can't get them inside my living room
So I started the fire that the insurance won't pay for
And the chemicals in the emergency sprinkler system killed the plants anyways
It also killed the fish
But the insurance adjuster wore gloves
So he's still alive

I would make a pretty ****** politician
I get upset at people who don't make sense
Though sometimes I don't make sense
I also have a bad habit of doing the wrong things for the right reasons

I have found Waldo three times
He says hi
Carmen Sandiego is in San Diego
Which makes that trip to Cairo a really bad piece of detective work
On a related note Al Gore is Captain Planet
And every time I hear a bug zapper
I think it is the bat from Fern Gully
But it is not
It's a bunch of dead moths in a box
Monkeys in a barrel
That's how my mind does things
Every time someone say "it is"
When "it's" would be acceptable
I remember The Land Before Time
"This is fun, it is, it is"

You are welcome

At my high school reunion
Years from now
In the old gym
They'll ask, whatever happened to us anyway
I won't have an answer for them
It'll be a shoulder shrug
Upward palms
And a colon backslash face
They'll move on to my son
Or work
Or school
Or some distant memory which will undoubtadly begin with, "remember that time"
And most likely end with, "those were the days"
And while they move on with their conversations
I will still have a colon backslash face
And my mind will be in a completely different time machine than the prom queen and the class clown
I will
By the end of it all
Have devoted what I can only imagine to be significantly more time than alotted
Thinking about what did ever happen to us anyway
And when I go home to what I anticipate being a beautiful, intellegent, loving wife, girlfriend, fiancee thing
She will
For a moment
Or possibly two moments
Not measure up to you
And I hope she won't notice my colon backslash face
That she'll end up smiling until she falls asleep

The morning after my high school reunion
I will stand in front of my mirror
And for much longer than two moments
I will not measure up
To the man you could have made me
And I will notice
I will start by ******* in my gut
Running my hands through my hair to try and imagine myself with a different style
I will analyze my wardrobe
And half way through auditing my music collection I will fall to the floor
I will cry
And with you in the forefront of my mind
I will
In true movie scene fashion
Whisper to no one
Whatever happened to us anyway
And worse than not having an answer at the reunion
I won't have an answer for myself
In an empty living room
Because I really don't know whatever happened to us anyway
One day we were
The next day we weren't
It was so adult
I was so civil
Even our break-up will be the best I ever had

The day before my high school reunion
I will cut my hair
Trim my arm pits
And clip my beard
I will iron a suit
Pick a good tie
And I imagine
In front of a mirrror
I will
Be proud of the man I have become

In the years going forward
And leading up to that high school reunion
I will
As a matter of life's course
Have no other occasion
To ask myself
Whatever happened to us anyways
But never the less
One night
Years from now
That question
Will leave me paralyzed
Scared
Heartbroken
Lonely
And even if
I am not alone
My pillow will remember
For one night
Or maybe even two nights
How to smell like you
And my arms
If only for a half a moment
Or possibly one whole moment
Will
With no luck
Reach for you

Dad this suitcase hurts
I don't like it
It makes me feel unwanted
All of my favorite things fit in this suitcase
All of my things stay zipped in this suitcase
I can fit in this suitcase
If I can fit in this suitcase
Why do I go anywhere
Why do I sleep here
I have no home
Everywhere is home
My suitcase goes everywhere with me
And I know this may hurt for you to hear
Because you never liked the suitcase either
But, "you have to pick and choose your battles" right?
You have to let some things go
Isn't that how you say it?
How does it feel to let this one go
How'd it feel to let me go
Don't be so surprised
Nothing wins in a battle with avoidance
No one holds court with the jester
And no one laughs at the comic who didn't get on stage
T-ball starts in the spring pops
Sign me up
I want to learn how to play
I want to wear baseball hats
And run the wrong way around the bases
Ooh I would thoroughly enjoy to miss the ball entirely off the tea
Maybe even fall down trying to field a grounder
Will you get me a blizzard when the games is over?
Will you wake up to play catch with me before work?
Please sign me up
I want to play
I want to swing
Swing pops
Pick this one
Pick and choose this one
I hate this suitcase
It has wheels
I can go anywhere with it
I don't want to go anywhere
I want to be home.

I'm sorry that my spectacular patience sometimes goes wandering through the grape vines
Leaving me here frustrated at the fact that you can't tie your shoes without getting your pants *****
And sand in your underwear 150 miles away from the nearest beach
And I know on a few occasions the only way to get my patience back from the grapes
Is to drink a bottle of wine and take someone else's
But I'm working hard for you

On the days I forget clean socks
I know it's hard to believe that I'm the best choice
But I promise the judge had a good reason
I know you've been doing this alive thing for like three and a half years now
So you've had time to adjust
But I've been doing this father thing for like six months now
But you have to know I'm working hard for you

When you look at an S and call it an R
Can't figure to unbuckle your car seat and wont eat a green bean to get a cookie
I wish the guy who wrote
"What to expect when you're expecting"
Had written
"What to do when you weren't expecting"
Or at the very least
"How not to **** it up"
Your aunt says if you do the footwork the results will come
I am walking the path I will get there

You were born at 7am
I wasn't told until 11pm
I was late
But I held you
You squeezed my finger
I smiled
You're turning four soon
I'm late
But I love you
Hold my hand son
I will smile
We will walk this path
We will get there

She throws her head around and around and around and around and around
Like a five year old trying to slow down a ceiling fan to see it one blade at a time
She's got little pieces of tore up toilet paper on the inside of her right thigh
There's no room left on her face for new scars
She's got her stash locked tight
In lighter sealed plastic wrap
Inside a film container
Lying in a sandwich bag wit ha glass pipe, tin foil, and a purple lighter
All in a Crown Royal bag
Taped to the back of her TV
Every time she gets it out she wonders why she ever went through the hassle of putting it away in the first place

Inhale
Exhale

She has to remind herself now that her body has forgotten how
Her lungs are working so hard
Her heart beating so fast
That's moving like an addict
She moves like a user

Her cave is a fortress
The enemy is the light
Her house is a really really really big blanket fort surrounded by drywall
Her days are twenty four hours of twenty four hours of twenty four hours of darkness
Until they're twenty four hours of twenty four hours of twenty four hours of sleep
If she's not paranoid of what she's losing
She's regretting what she's already lost
And during the days she can't remember what she had to lose in the first place
She's afraid of what might find her
So her cave gets darker
The locks get thicker
And the mailbox gets too far away to pay the bills
By the time they come to make her another homeless drug addict
The kind they show as stock footage on local news at five pm
The only way she'll be able to tell the difference between the dark damp cave she was living in
And the pitch black back alley she's sleeping in
Will be the stars
And the stars are just too pretty for this to be rock bottom

She told me
"I'd disappear for a while if I could trust my self to come back to all of this"
She won't come back to this
She's too big for this
She's too big for this
Or I'm too small for her
Or the horse she rode in on died
And now she's riding off on an elephant
I don't know

Not all surprises are surprises
Sometimes we just act surprised
So that the other person doesn't feel bad about us knowing ahead of time
I've never really been in a fight
So I don't know what hurts worse a sucker punch
Or a punch you see coming
Either way this hurts
A lot less like a punch
And a lot more like getting branded at a bonfire in a cornfield by your best friend with a paper clip
It burns
Then bleeds
Then welts
Then itches
For along *** time it itches
Then when it's done itching
It's there
Forever
And every time someone sees it for the first time you have to tell that story
Of how you you got your *** burnt with a paper clip by your best friend in a cornfield at a bonfire
Or about getting sucker punched
Or surprised
Or about being too small for her

Sometimes you grieve before their gone
You write your love letters and goodbye notes at the same time
And you've seen her go so many times in your mind
That by the times she actually does ride off on an elephant
It's like you're watching reruns
And just crying out of habit

But sometimes you want to feel like size doesn't matter
That whether she's too big for this
Or I'm too small for that
That somehow it just fits

That's when you grieve
Before they're gone
When they're going
And after they've left
And you spend your nights wondering who the good guy was
But no one wears black cowboy hats or white cowboy hats in relationships
So you never get to know who the good guy was
I want to think it was her
I'm starting to believe it was me
And that hurts
To think I was so wrong for so long

You see size tends to matter
When you're reaching for the stars
One of you is going to reach them
Swing of Orion's Belt and grab the moon
And while they're staring back at earth
You'll still be here
Pumping your Reebok's
Trying to get just enough air in your shoes
To be just big enough
To jump just high enough
That they're just won't forget you
While they're off doing things
That you are just too small to do

I wake up from dreams
With goose bumps where your hands used to go
My dreams remind me what you looked like
My body reminds me what you felt like
My empty bed reminds me what you feel like
Your phone number reminds me you're not just a phone call away anymore
And my friends try their damnedest to remind me 'This too shall pass'
This too shall pass
But my heart is just starting to break
The dog days are not done
The pain is just beginning
And my heart will have to break up all the way
Before I can start to fix it again
I don't have much super glue
This will be quite the patchwork job
I get goose bumps on my finger tips
I get goose bumps on my chest
I get goose bumps on my thighs
I get goose bumps on my arms
And all I can hope is that every now and then you wake up with goose bumps too
This too shall pass
I don't want this to pass
I just want to be in the past I'm living in, in my dreams
Where you still sing to me the lullabies I sing to my son to help me sleep
And you wake me with gentle kisses to the forhead
And rubbing my hands with your fingers
My bed used to be such a perfect fit for me and you lying in this huddled cold mess of sheets
I can hardly find it in myself to take up more space then my pillows
You always took up more space then I did
And since you replaced yourself with the pillows
Nostalgia won't let me stretch my legs
I want to stretch my legs
I want to run away from this
But I can't run from pain
Can't run from goose bumps
I can't run from dreams
I will eventually have to close my eyes
And when I do
I will see yours open
Looking into mine
Saying I love you
Like you mean it
Like you always did
But didn't always mean it
Or at least you don't still mean it
I'm too young to be burdened forever by something I didn't choose
Like not having you in my life
You owe me too much still
Like a song on the piano
Like salsa lessons
Like a night out
Lilke teaching me how to fish and ride 4 wheelers
Like midnight phone calls
Like more good mornings
And less goodbyes
Like tomorrow
Like forever

It's a bad day when you can't get Celene Dion out of your head
Titanic was good
It was not that good

I found a dried flower
Buried in Leviticus of my sort of grandma's bible
She must have liked that part
The only quote about Leviticus I've read on the internet is about stoning gay people
I hope she didn't like it that much

I saw a bagel get made
No one has the job of eating the middles out
I'm 23, this was a let down
I still like bagels a lot

I tacked the dry flower on my wall
Above the reminder that it's $3 a day to swim at the public pool in the mornings
I hope it's not a homophobic flower
I hid the bible behind Lauren Conrad's book
Lauren Conrad's book embarrasses me less

My sort of grandma
Is only sort of alive
I often feel that way

I feel most alive while dreaming of the impossible
Realistic dreams lead to disappointment
Outlandish dreams leave little 'remember when’s’'
No one hates themselves for not becoming an astronaut
A lot of people hate themselves for not losing 20lbs

Friendships are often measured in favors
That is all
That was not all
Favors are measured in sacrifices
Favors are not measured in reward

Today is a reflection of not dying yesterday
There is a one in seven chance that today is Friday
And it is imperative that we get down on Friday
Because the anticipation for this weekend is very high
If today is Monday all of that is no longer relevant to our conversation

I am losing weight
As I lose weight more and more fat girls hit on me
I do not like this as much as what I was imagining would happen

I have learned that being funny **** cool
Like I am becoming
Does not mean hot girls will hit on me
It means they will actually think about it before saying no

To supplement my soon to be chiseled physic
I am learning a Jack Johnson song on guitar
This worked for an acquaintance in 2006
Maybe I should learn Colbie Callait instead

The world would be better if schools had better teachers
The world would also be better if high school seniors paid attention to the teachers they already have
I don't know which one is easier to fix

My past seems rosier than my future
Except in the case of February 16th 2007
And now February 16th 2012

Corner buildings and modern light fixtures are my favorite aesthetics
My favorite building has neither of those features
Those features are not that awesome

Dead flowers smell like dead things
To combat this I spray cologne on my grandma's flower
I have never been to a funeral
I wonder if they febreeze the dead people
Or maybe they use Chanel No. 5
This is something I would like to learn more about

Two years ago for lent
I gave up lying
It lasted
Two weeks
So in the spirit of honesty
I wanted to set the record straight
This might just be for my benefit and you might not get anything out of it but
I’m a liar
Always have been
And I’d like to shed some weight
So here goes

The first girl I ever kissed was Ashlynn (I forget her last name)
There was tongue
I was 13
It was truth or dare
I know
It doesn’t count
I kissed ten more girls playing truth or dare between Ashlynn Iforget and my first real kiss
My first real honest to goodness no truth or dare kiss
Was the day after junior prom
We woke up in each other’s arms on the couch
Stared at each other for hours until she finally kissed me
We kissed for six hours
My lips chapped
That lasted a year and a half
She had my baby

When I was in fifth grade my neighbor and I broke my parents antique glass table
I told everyone I just sat on it
I really body slammed my friend on it

To everyone I’ve told I don’t like dogs
I kind of like them
I don’t want one
But I kind of like them

When I spent the first year of my son’s life 350 miles away at a better job
Building a better future
I was really running away
Though to be fair
I didn’t know I was lying ‘til I came home

To Emily (I forgot her last name) from Corvallis
I am not a bio-chem major with a minor in French
Though I do dream of owning a vineyard in the south of Spain

Also to Emily Iforget
I was not just staying in my friend’s storage closet…that was my room

To sergeant Roscoe
My wife was not pregnant

I don’t put dates on anything I write
Because I secretly hope when I die
Someone will take the time to read it all and try to organize it
So they’ll have to think about me longer

To all of my female friends
I am a very good listener
I am a great shopping buddy
But I have had a crush on each of you at some point
Some of you knew that already

My *** number is higher than I tell people
I really want to try out for American Idol
I kissed a boy
And I liked it

To every homeless man ever
I do have spare change

To you-should-know-who-you-are-if-you-hear-this
Yes those were my underwear
And yes I did have *** with your sister

Mom I took a twenty from your purse when I was 16
Dad I stole $100 bucks once

I only cried four times during The Notebook not six

And I wouldn’t break up with you if you cheated on me
Because without my lies I have the self esteem of an Olsen Twin alone at a stranger’s house party

The only kegger I ever went to was my mom’s 50th birthday party.

I have lied a lot
Often without realizing it
Sometimes it’s on purpose

Some of them don’t make sense
Like lying about wanting to go bungee jumping…I don’t…I once said I did

Some are for your benefit
I did not want seconds of the first dinner you ever made me that **** was gross

Some are for my benefit
I really didn’t love you

Some I will never get
I am too afraid to call my best friend because I know he’ll forgive me
And I don’t think I deserve it

But that last thing I’d like to be honest about
I hope one day I love myself enough
To stop saying
I’m 6’2”

I’ve scraped the bottom of a fish tank
I never owned one of those sucker fish
Saturdays that’s when I would clean the tank
I never liked it
When you scrape the tank all that green stuff floats around a gets stuck on your hand
I didn’t like that
I don’t like having ***** hands
It tells people where I’ve been
I don’t want people knowing where I’ve been
I don’t like to have been where I’ve been
I’d prefer I never was
I tend to tell people I never was
You can’t do that when you have dirt on your hands
I wash my hands
The sink knows where I’ve been
I forget a lot of things my sink knows
My sink knows a lot of things
When I was my hands
I use soap just to make sure
I don’t online date
I don’t need to
I have a girlfriend
She doesn’t wash her hands
I know where she’s been
I can see how many times she scraped the tank
She hasn’t scraped the tank too much
Not as much as I have
More than she knows I have
But less than my sink knows
If she ever knew she wouldn’t stay
I buy new shoes a lot
No dirt
I don’t like the dirt
The dirt gives me away
I hide from my dirt
Dirt is hard to hide from
It floats
It floats in the air I stir up when I run away from it
My girlfriend doesn’t look behind me
She will one day
I can’t stop it
She’ll leave me
I’ll wash my hands
I’ll forget
My sink won’t forget
She will not wash her hands
She won’t forget
I got rid of my fish tank
I won’t scrape it anymore
I never like doing that
Too much dirt
I’ll just **** the garden
My sink will know
She will not
Tomorrow will come before I am ready
It always does
Why wouldn’t it
It doesn’t know me
Doesn’t sympathize for my problems
Today’s dirt will still be there tomorrow
Tomorrow’s dirt is not here yet
I can’t wash the dirt before my hands touch it
My sink won’t let me
She asked my sink
It told her
She’s gone now
She has clean hands
She has clean shoes
She has clean knees
I have soapy hands
I have new shoes
The stains on my knees won’t come out
So I wear pants
I stopped weeding my garden
It’s too *****
I had potatoes
They were too *****
I asked tomorrow what its dirt will be
It won’t tell me
I can’t wash out dirt I don’t have on my hands yet
My sink won’t forget
I learn my lessons from my mistakes
I have not learned all of my lessons
I have not made all my mistakes.

I've been shot through the heart
By a bullet with no name
So I have no one left to blame for this
I'm lying here
Bleeding out
Asking forgiveness from everyone I've met
But they all deleted my number along time ago
Nobody answers numbers they don't recognize anymore
So really I'm just lying here
Staring at the moon doing its best impersonation of the Cheshire Cat
And I want that
That, smile while I die
The "it ain't ****"
That swagger that everyone else seems to have
I never had

I'm lying in a casket I built
The only project I ever finished
They're shoveling piles of regrets, sorrys, and unused potential
That's enough to bury me here
My headstone doesn't read like the eulogy of a loved man
It reads like a children's book
One word per page
And the word they put on the only page about me?
Somebody else's name
So the creditors couldn't find me
It's not like anyone else calls these days
History need not remember those who did not contribute to it

The list of things I've said I would do
Is not as long as the list of things Kanye West has done
But if you let me finish you'll see it's ten times as long as the list of things I've done

I know five songs by heart
Every one of them is sad
Ain't No Sunshine
500 Miles (not the catchy one the old a capella one from the fifties)
Hallelujah
Landslide
And Red Eye
I use the word why like a piece of gum
Chewing on it until it loses its flavor
It used to taste like coconut
After 10 hours of a graveyard shift it just tastes like yesterday
And the moon doesn't track my days anymore
My feelings do and it's been today for a long time and yesterday I was happy
It's been a few years since yesterday
I can't wait till tomorrow
Who knows maybe it will come when I wake up

I have black out curtains
The sun says goodnight to my toes through the crack in them
My dreams still watch her pull the trigger
I still wake up with bullet holes
People are still not answering my phone calls
And I'm too afraid of my mirror to go knock on their doors and ask if they want to come out and play
She knew
I knew
But knowing isn't accepting and accepting isn't wanting
I want my dreams back

My feet swell up at the end of a work day
When I take my shoes off they feel better
I don't feel better now that she's gone
My heart used to swell up after seeing her
Apparently swelling doesn't always hurt
Apparently making it stop doesn't always feel better
I learn something new every day
Today I learned that if you only think happy thoughts about a person you just miss them more
Yesterday I learned if you only think bad thoughts about a person you just want to apologize
Tomorrow I'll learn what happens if you forgot that person ever left
She won't be learning the same lesson
I don't see this going too well
My therapist says it doesn't have to be fair to be how I feel
I feel discarded
Like one of my promises
Like one of her days
Like a snow man in March
The piece of litter the prisoners forgot in the blackberry bush on the side of 1-5

The moon smiles like a cat who never knew what it was to frown
I live like a man who never knew what it was to be

Silence is the seconds after she sets her phone down and before he texts her back
She keeps it on vibrate so it doesn't wake me
That's pretty polite of her
I think it's cute she thinks I could fall asleep

My teeth tingle the good *** tingle when my head board shivers
Maybe memories
Maybe foreshadowing

She has different sighs
Ones for when she's sad, angry, overwhelmed
His texts and our hugs have the same sigh
That's how I know she still loves me

She says his name in bed
We both pretend it didn't happen
It's better that way
I keep her warm for him
She keeps me...
She keeps me

I don't go through her phone and read her text messages
She deletes them
That's polite of her
I don't ask about him
It's only polite of me
There's nothing more to be said
I get the good *** tingle when her phone vibrates
Not when it beeps though
Because if it beeps it's just her sister
And I don't want *** with her sister

She tells me I know things about her no one else knows
It's cute she thinks no one else knows

Can you count?
I can count
1 text 2 text 3 text
It's just like sheep
If the sheep were stealing your ****

She's not my ****
Just wanted to make that clear
She's his ****
I just stay here

I like it when she pretends he doesn't exist
It's polite of her
He exists
They say goodnight around three
When she turns her phone volume back up
I whisper good night
She pretends I don't whisper
I just hope if I have the last word she'll dream about me too

On occasion he turns her on
That's when we have the best ***
She keeps her eyes closed so she can see him
I close my eyes too
I like to imagine her eyes are open

Sometimes they fight
About me
We don't fight about him
She appreciates that I can hear it in her sighs

Sometimes his texts get frustrated sighs
Sometimes I get those too
Usually when I try and rest my hand on hers during silence
She doesn't like that
She likes him

Take me home sweet senorita
Ride me on your wings
Flap your arms
Cause hurricanes
And watch them like Van Gogh would
With stars in our ears
Then send me down little ******
Along the Yangtze River banks
To flood my paddies and scythe my stalks
And feed the family waiting

Take me home weeping widow
Let me ride in the hole in your heart
Where the walls are decorated in photographs you were never in
Drop me in the heart of industry
Let me build to make my way
To build the home to which I walk
To build the table on which I will feed my family the spoils of a day in field

Take me home
Mother
Slide me between your arms
Show me where to go
Bring to me my family
Fed upon my table
In my house
With the harvest of my hands
Be the mother of my family
Make where you are, my home

I imagine there is something I could've done
Something I could have said
Something I could've broken
To make you stay a little bit longer
Even if it were just to yell at me
Maybe then it would've taken an extra ten minutes
To forget your cologne
Maybe it would've taken ten extra minutes
To forget your cheek bones
Maybe if what I had done had been so bad
Maybe that would've giving me an extra hour
To remember you
But my mom tells me there is nothing I could've have done
That would've made you stay for good
I got myself suspended hoping
The school would call you instead of mom
But they only had our house number
And your postcards didn't have return addresses
So there was nothing they could've done to find you
My mom misses your income I miss your arms
I miss your baseball glove under my pillow
I miss your left hand on my cheek
I miss my black eyes
The school was so concerned about my home life
Back when I had a home
Now I just have hallways with doors that lead to rooms
We don't go in anymore
My mattress is on the living room floor
And I don't do my chores
Because you aren't there to make me
And for all the things I can't remember about you
I still can't make myself forget
The color of your taillights
And no matter what I snort I can't seem to burn the smell of exhaust fumes
Out of my nasal cavity
I will forever be eight years old
Forever have a tear stain on my right cheek
Forever know where to put my mom's head when she cries
I've had too much practice at being a man
To ever call you one
There is not a faucet or pipe
That hasn't leaked since you've left
Which is either how long you've been gone
Or how little you did while you were here
She says it's been for the best
Your post cards stopped coming
My cheeks stopped swelling
Your anger stopped echoing in my ears
And now I can't even remember the tone of your voice
But my mom says it's a lot like mine
So I try to change it when I'm at home
I didn't write about you in my college admissions essay
Under the challenges I've faced section
Not under the regrets section
Not in the areas to improve section
I put your story under my proudest achievements
Because if there is something that I never intend to do
It's grow up just like you
No matter how many girls I've ******
There isn't a single one that could pack a punch like you
Your postcards never had return addresses
But that doesn't mean I won't find you
And when I do you better hit me back
It's the least you could do

I'm a soldier in the nightlight revolution
I'm fighting the nightmares that haunt your dreams
The monsters in your closet
And the Boogeyman under your bed
One outlet at a time
I'm a silent alarm that vibrates your covers
When older brothers come in after bed time
To cover your face in shaving cream
Dip your hands in popcorn bowls of warm water
Or just slap you in the face
Sometimes they're not that subtle
I know when there is a tooth under your bed
Or reindeer on your roof
I've got a motion detector to keep step fathers at bay
While your mother's asleep
I'm his grave digger and his crypt keeper
Taking his skeletons out of the closet
And laying them in the middle of the floor
That man won't call on you anymore
I'm a hug when all you need is a handshake
And a hold-you-all-night when all you need is a kiss on the cheek
I don't do half-***
When things go bump in the night I bump back
Never fear to close both eyes when you sleep
Dream of fairy tales, Prince Charming
Dream of Maid Marions
Waiting for your touch
Don't fear the reaper he fears me
I am a soldier in the nightlight revolution
Armed with so much more than illumination
I crawl through the cracks in the closet door
Make their shadows cast pictures of rainbows on your wall
The Boogey Man runs from Chuck Norris
Chuck Norris runs from me
Please rest easy
Let the night take you for all it has to offer
Through star lit skies and rain filled clouds on magic carpets rides
Ocean floors and clown fish in little yellow submarines
Rain forests with koalas and parrots and panda bears
Son never fear for what the night brings near
The nightlight revolution is here
Throw your dream catcher away I will hand craft each one
Take the lavender out of the window sill
Don't leave the door cracked
You've got me
I'm here
We're all here
Soldiers of the nightlight revolution
And we will not sleep til you're awake

There is a man at the coffee shop I frequent
He sits in the same corner in the same sweater
And hasn't missed a day since I've moved there
I've never seen him order a coffee, but he always has one
Never seen him eat, but he isn't small
And all this man ever does is take notes
He's got a pocket size notebook
A twenty five cent pen and a mustache
And the only time his hand stops writing
Is to take a drink of coffee
He's not normal
I could tell it the first time I saw him
He writes like chipmunks eat
Keeps it close to his face
I hope one day I'm flipping through case studies
And find his
It'd be about interactions
Or communal relationships
Or some fancy way of saying strangers don't talk
They only judge from afar
It'll have won whatever literary prize they give for that kind of thing
Changed the way people thought about each other
Books will be written about the book he wrote
And his little notebooks and twenty five cent pens
Will sell at auctions for thousands
But that's wishful thinking
He's different
I knew that the first time I saw him
I've gone through a lot of scenarios
Character development for a novel
A series of short stories derived from first impressions
Of everyone who comes in
A poet without a laptop
Maybe even a hit list
But he's unusual
I knew that the first time I saw him
This isn't something normal people do
He isn't making believe
He's making friends
I imagine he hasn't had too many in his lifetime
He's probably not been very good at it
So now he's just making them for himself
Taking notes on their likes, dislikes, interests, hobbies, occupations
Eavesdropping the CIA would be jealous of
All so that after closing time
He can go home to his studio above a repair shop
He pays for with social security
And have conversations with them
I can picture his closet full of clothes
Male, female, juniors, adults, maternity
He talks to an empty space on the other side of the room
“Hey, how's your day?”
He takes off his clothes puts on a dress
Walks over to the dead space turns around and says
“Good, hey you look sad is everything alright?”
Takes off the dress, puts his clothes back on
Walks back across the room
“Yeah, it's just that Gary works in engineering, I had him pegged for a dentist”
Changes again
“It's okay, people aren't always what they seem,
Besides I like engineers better than dentists”
“I know” he says back to her
“That's why I think he'd be perfect for you”
“Oh no, no more blind dates”
“Yes I'm serious I think he's the one for you”
“I do so bad at these things”
“Well I'll just have to ask him for you, are you available tomorrow night”
“I guess”
He changes into a third set of clothes,
Then a forth,
A fifthAnd before the sun comes up
There's been a marriage
A hockey game
A lecture on physics
And little Tim had a cello recital
He's dangerous
I knew it the first time I saw him
One day Nikki won't answer his phone calls
Sam won't have a new lecture prepared
And he'll come back to the coffee shop
And make them,
Teach them a lesson,
Exact revenge,
Or maybe he'll just throw away their outfit
Either way ****** is just a mind set
He could win an Oscar for his portrayal of any regular in here
But they've all disappointed him a time or two too many
He's not that different
I've learned that over time
He's got more friends than I do
But none more alive

There is a poem I can't write, it only has two lines
But I'm not a minimalist, I'm an underachiever.

I'm inspired by little gestures
To make big changes
But nowadays little gestures are hard to come by
It's like they placed a premium on them
And the world just can't afford it
Like helping old ladies cross the street
Costs a tank of gas
Like the four dollars on a rose for a stranger
Is your life savings
And sure if you looked in my wallet
You might find out that it's a pretty good percentage of mine
But I have a second account
It's in my heart and it's full
I've deposited enough smiles in it to make me
One of the richest men alive
And I'm not Santa Clause
I don't run TOMS Shoes
I don't give free turkeys on Thanksgiving
But I do as many little things I can everyday to make people smile
Because smiles are worth more to me
Love is worth more to me
Hugs are worth more to me
Than whatever it costs to get them
And if we all did little things
We might find there are two global warmings
The one in the atmosphere
And the one in our hearts
You're twenty five cents short of those Dorrito's
Yeah I got that
You're lost and you can't find your hotel
Here let me show you
Can I give you a jump
Absolutely
Need a shoulder on your Max ride home from your now ex-boyfriend's house
Why the hell not I'm just sitting here anyway
And I can handle the smell for twenty minutes
Why do these things have to be big deals
Because you were burned before
I've been burned before too
But that doesn't stop me
It motivates me
Because if the little things
Were things everybody did
Whoever burned me
Wouldn't have had to burn me
Because they would've been in a better place
My good mood has put so many people in a good mood
That it puts me in a good mood
Do the little things
It's addicting
It's infectious
It's contagious
And if we all start doing the little things
The world will be a better place
And one day we might even go from doing the little things
To doing the right things

The weight of the world can be found
In the circles under my eyes
I spend my nights awake
Worried about the wrongs everyone else is suffering
I imagine what it would be like to be someone else
For so long I start writing rap songs harder than DMX
And I'm from the suburbs where no one comes out of adversity
Because there is no adversity
There is success
Or there is suicide
I worry for the future of ex lovers
Not just mine everybody's
Will they ever wake up from their depression
Will they love again
Will they smile tomorrow
I stay up worrying so late
My mundane work day is my only place to write
Or sleep, but I choose writing
Because I'm like the rest of my in-between-generations generation
We don't expect to live past thirty-five
So when I die the only thing my mom will have of me
Are these words I write
And I'd rather them be a bit more
Then love poems to girls who wouldn't remember meeting me
I want to write about important things
I want the things that make midnight
The start of my day
To be the things that make my pen run dry during it
I worry about hobo cities
Full of veterans, drug addicts, and bachelor degrees
And sometimes all three at the same time
I want to learn how to crochet
So I can make a blanket for every baby
Going home with a loving mom
Too poor to turn on the heater
This isn't a poem full of metaphors or similes
This is just true stories
From people who can't sugar coat their truths
Because sometimes you just can't get the blood out of the carpets
And your kids grow up playing hot wheels
On the stain their mom left when she left
Sometimes thirty-five to life is a *** deal
And it ends your life
Sometimes thirty-five to life is an excuse to get one
And sometimes thirty-five to life is the only thing keeping you alive
Because three square meals a day
Is a luxury you've never been afforded
I built a wailing wall in my house
And I have yet to put a prayer in it for myself
Not because I'm self righteous
Or perfect
But because I haven't gotten around to it
I just know there are so many others
Who could use the extra prayer more than I could
The way I figure it if no one prays for me
And I don't pray for myself
That should lighten the load a bit
And I've put in so many prayers for other people
The wall might just fall through the floor
And land in the living room of the lady who wears sunglasses
She wears them day and night, outdoors and in
I worry about her the most
More than AIDS ridden starving kids in Africa
More than Tsunami Victims
More than broken limbs and missing babies in Haiti
I worry about the lady who wears sunglasses
Because she knows no other form of love
Than the kind he gives her
And the closest she's ever felt to real love
Was the day he bought her those new sunglasses
To cover the bruises he gave her
The circles under my eyes get darker and darker
With every passing hour
And that's not a metaphor
You can see it if you turn on the lights
And the world is getting darker and darker
With every wrong that is suffered
And that is a metaphor
But that doesn't make it a lie

The song on the radio when you took
Your last suitcase out of my life
Was not poetically fitting
But still hurts all the same
You didn't give one last look back
But that doesn't mean I forgot your eyes
The last conversation didn't end well
But I remember your smile
You didn't leave on Valentine's Day
Your birthday, my birthday,
Or our anniversary
But that doesn't mean I won't cry next year
We never said forever
But I didn't mean so soon
I didn't change the locks
When I gave you space
I still draw your scars in my sleep
And wipe your tears from your cheeks during day dreams
But don't come back
I couldn't handle that
Don't text me at three in the morning
With whatever he won't do for you
I don't care how much tequila you've had
My heart is off limits
Your self esteem
Is no longer my responsibility
Civility not obligatory
I don't have quarters for your meter
And I am not happy for you
So don't come back
I couldn't handle disappointing you twice
We never had a song to dance to
Never lit a candle during ***
You weren't a long walks kind of girl
I'm not a mosh pit kind of guy
Poetry did not float your boat
And sailing is most definitely not the motion in my ocean
But none of that made sense until just now
We were a twister through a trailer park
A fire in the City of Bridges
Bullets in a slaughter house
Made lovers jealous
And parents regret
Built our foundation on sand
And said ******* to the ocean
Surfed tsunamis
And skied avalanches
And none of that seemed dangerous
Until just now
We complimented each other with insults
Threw stones in glass houses
Sang praises off key
Called it love
Smiled through an earthquake
Called it an ******
Talked through the silence
And called it fate
Which made sense until just now
When I said 'us' out loud
Held 'we' in my hands
And made what we were out of clay
Fired it in the kiln and had nothing come out
Which all makes sense, now

You were in a Donatella Versaci masterpiece
I was in a Bottega Veneta custom
Diana Krall was in the stereo
Lemon lobster baking in the oven
And you and I
You and I were slow dancing like eighth graders
In the living room
With the coffee table pushed to the wall
And the T.V. cabinet cupboard shut
So we could have a little more room for our evening waltz
I guess that's what I get
For watching a romantic comedy and the Emmy's
On the same night
And even though that dream may be twenty years from ever coming true,
Because both you and I were in our forties
Trying to impress each other with how interesting
We could keep our relationship
Even though we both knew all we had to do
Was wake up in the morning and smile at each other
To fall in love again,
It was worth it because in that dream
I could actually dance
And the lobster was amazing
Say what you will
I have very sensory dreams
And things feel, taste, and smell like they do in real life
And it may have had something to do
With how beautiful you looked in that dress
Or the scent you were wearing
But that lobster was amazing
And your hands on my shoulders
Was a massage you weren't giving
As we two stepped through the room
And my lips mouthing every line
That danced through the air
Directly onto you earlobe
Was just an excuse for my cheek to touch yours
And as Veneta and Versace got comfortable on the floor
And my sensory dreams turned into a little bit more
My fleeting thoughts were of your smile in the morning
And I know you don't see yourself there yet
Taking pleasure in slow dancing
And waking up next to each other
But I see myself there just as clear
As I see myself right here
And I'll to drop the Veneta for jeans
Your Versace for pajamas
Lobster for KFC
If I'm slow dancing with you to Diana Krall in our living room
I don't give a **** if
We own the coffee table to push out of the way
I want to spend my life with you
I want to spend my life slow dancing with you
I want to spend my life whisper-humming
Standards into your ear slow dancing
In the living room of our house with you
Duplex with you
Apartment with you
Trailer with you
I don't care
I want to spend my life slow dancing with you
I want to spend my life with you
And I'm not being too sweet
I'm being too honest
And I know grand romantic gestures aren't your thing
Girl, flowers on Valentine's Day aren't your thing
But I hope someday soon you make a hobby out of slow dancing
Because I had a dream last night
I'd love to come true

To the tweaker who just ate lunch
On the side of a 55 mph highway
I'm not staring because I'm judging
I can judge without looking
I'm staring because I want to know
If my eyes can slow down your limbs
Like the arms of a fan
So I can see that you're still somebody's daughter
I'm staring because I understand
Never mind the gawking eyes of midday traffic
Never mind the glares of the gas station clerks
I understand
You're just having lunch
I understand
The bugs, the tics, the needs
You are not a stranger to me
You are who my sister used to be
You are what the father of my niece
Is trying not to be anymore
You are every shady character
Who ever knocked on my door asking questions
I do not know your name
But I know you
I know you were once somebody's daughter
And I hope you still are
I'm not here to pass judgment
Definitely not here to help
I know all to well there is nothing I can do
I just want you to know I know
And so does any body you're trying to hide it from
And they'll be waiting up for you
Whether you come home or not
Your mom hasn't had a full nights sleep
Since the last time she saw you
I hope for her sake
It was this morning
And I know you won't believe this
But grown woman and all
Your dad just wants to bounce you on his knee
But what I know most of all
Is that your little brother
Can't go two hours without crying
He's got ulcers again
And he misses you
You probably see him the most
But he hasn't seen you
Since you took your first hit
He misses your advice
He misses your hazing
And all he wants is a sober hug
And I'm sure this isn't what you wanted to hear
During your picnic
But it's everything I wish I could've told my sister
Even if she wouldn't have listened
I'm not staring to judge
I'm staring to care
And I don't presume to know what addiction is
But I do know how it feels
I just watched you barely cross the street
I can't imagine you making it
Wherever you're going tonight
So if you die
I hope there's **** in heaven
But if you by some miracle don't
I hope rock bottom's not to far down
And that one day you get clean
And start to make amends
So you can remember what it's like to dream
And if that day ever does come
Do me a favor
Sit on your father's lap
Sleep in your mother's bed
And hug your little brother
Because there's a girl he could use some help with
No matter what you've done
Or how much pain you've caused
Through the twitching
The nervous glances
The weight loss
You're still somebody's daughter
I know you
I understand you
Enjoy your lunch

You just can't tuck your shirt in well enough
With your pants buckled
So make sure you do it right
Before you leave your house
Because that's an awkward dinner thing
And I'm going to level with you
A tucked in shirt all bunched up around the waist
Is worse than ***** lines under spandex shorts
So make sure you've got a mirror on your door
I can't have you looking
Like no one ever warned you
Like you haven't had a father to teach you
Because you have a father
And I know the replacement
She's got in her bed every night
Is a nice guy
But he didn't ask to be a father
He's not ready
And it's not that I wanted to be a father
But he didn't even get to have
The *** that made you
And believe you me
It was a good night
And since your not even two yet
I should probably start
With some advice that's a little more
Relevant
But I'm serious about the shirt thing
I mean if you can't do it right
Leave it untucked
Anyways
First advice
Smile
Nobody likes a negative Nancy
Besides you'll need the practice
Because if I'm going to pay for braces
I expect a return on investment
Paid in smile hours so be funny
Smile because if eyes are windows to the soul
Smiles are open doors
So smile wide
A lot of people are going to want in
Let them in
Advice two
Take a long time to have *** first
Then **** your brains out
It's only making love
The first two times
Your anniversary
Make-up ***
The first hour of your honeymoon
The last hour of your marriage
And the last time
So don't stress out about
Any other circumstance
Unless she's a friend you've had
Since you were in 3rd grade
You've always loved her
Your 21
Freshly single
And finally alone
In which case
I hope they have better pills
Because without them
You'll never live up to the expectations
You've inflated in every dream you've ever had
Asleep or otherwise
But don't worry
It'll still be the best night
Of both of your lives
Other than that
Don't stress the in between ***
But do pay attention
To the first thing you say after
High five does not equal win
I love you does
But only say it if you mean it
Otherwise tell her she was amazing
Advice three
Heaven might end up being
An awesome place
But don't miss out
On opportunities here on Earth
To make sure you get there
Because no matter how awesome
Cobble stone streets are to your disembodied self
It will never equal the
Real life feeling of a quivering bottom lip
Of a real love kiss
I promise
I promise
I promise
Advice four
If your girlfriend
Ever offers you a sweet treat
Take it
Don't worry about the calories
Even if you're an athlete
The run in the morning
To burn it off your hips
Is worth the smile on her lips
The joy in her eyes
And the children playing
Hopscotch in her heart
She needs to feel loved
Needs to feel needed
Show her she's appreciated
Take her hand in a dark movie theater
Stare at her in a crowded room
Whether she's the love of your life
Or the flavor of the week
Tell her she means something to you
And kiss her cheek
Every time you leave
But most important
Before you walk out the door
Unbutton your pants
And tuck in your shirt
The world is watching
Don't act like you don't have a father
You have a father

She remembers the day the stick turned blue, “wow for **** up the spout”
He remembers her smile when she told him.  Smile, really?
Then there was telling her parents, “okay we'll make this work”
Then there was telling his parents, “You threw your scholarship away for this *****, you're a *******”
She remembers the morning sickness
He remembers the hangovers
She felt warm inside when he said it was her choice
He felt like dying when she said she was keeping it
She framed the first ultra sound photo
He deleted his Myspace page
She noticed the day she started showing
The same day he noticed the legs on the waitress
She was snickered at behind locker doors
He quit the team
Her mom brought home baby shoes
His mom circled the classifieds
She got peanut butter cravings
He got hand gun cravings
It's a girl
It's a girl
She remembers finally talking again after four months
He remembers being cornered after 3rd period
She wanted to pick names
He wanted to hang up
She remembers their second first date
He remembers how nice she was
This could really work please kiss me goodnight
We'll see how this goes please don't kiss me
The doctors say the shadow on the ultra sound could be nothing
What if the thing on the picture is something
She prays for the health of Amelia
He begs God to do something about this
They have such a bright future ahead
He had such a bright future ahead
She goes to Goodwill for maternity clothes
He rings her up at the cash register with a kiss
She remembers buying baby clothes at the mall
He remembers how cute the onesies were
She sees him smile
Amelia...good name
She's due next week
He packs his cleats to make room for the crib
She packs to move into his house
His dad packs for a motel
She's still craving peanut butter
He's still craving the waitress
She ate peanut butter
He ate the waitress
She's in labour
He's in traffic
Hold my hand
Ouch...Okay breathe honey...ouch
There's no crying
Nice, quiet baby
Amelia's dead
I'm not a father
She cries into her shirt
He leaves the hospital
She cries into the onesies
He returns the crib to Wal Mart
She burns the ultra sound photos
He grabs his cleats
She gets a hair cut
He quits his job
She returns the diapers and shower gifts
His new Myspace says “single”
She shops for a prom dress
The waitress finds out he's seventeen
Her mom hugs her as she falls asleep
His dad pats him on the back after wind sprints
She can't stop starring at him during prom
He wonders if she went to prom
She writes Amelia in bubble letters on a piece of paper she hangs on her wall a reminder of what's important
He buys a Costco pack of condoms and tacks one to the wall a reminder of what's important

Let me breathe you in
Take a deep inhale rolling back my shoulders
And get your hair in my nose
Get every inch of you inside of me
Because I never want to forget you
And seeing you tomorrow will not be the same as loving you today
So let me breathe you in
Let me swallow you
Take a big gulp of your lips
Send your fingers down the wrong tube on purpose
Taste all of your juices
Because I need to know that you haven't changed
That the you you were last time we were here is the you you are this time
So let me swallow you
Let me paint you
With a brush the size of a fountain pin
So I can get every detail right
While I'm painting your thoughts
Because I can't imagine you any different
With hopes and dreams that still get painted green on canvas, red on paper, orange on bibles
So let me paint you
Let me remember you
Never forget your shoe collection
Your backpacks or your hair ties
Finding you in every lobe my brain has
Because I can't imagine a thought without you
Without the glow of kids in castles in your smile and the warmth of Kansas City in your arms
So let me remember you

She keeps a bar in the window
Of the room she sleeps in every night
It's there to keep the rapists at bay
She doesn't bother with the other windows
Because her boyfriend will stop them
If they come in that way
These rapists aren't a figment of her imagination
Or a ghost from her past
They are a delusion of her present
Yes she was *****
But any lingering feelings she had about that
She ****** away a long time ago
I know they say **** lasts forever
But the bars in the windows are new

He sleeps with the covers off
It's a lot hotter at night now
Since they stopped opening the windows
He wakes up a lot for his midnight snack
Bagel and cream cheese spread with a spoon
He doesn't want to bother getting out his keys for a knife
He says, “I know she has issues,
But we all have issues, I have issues
That frankly I'm glad she sees past”
He's right that we all have issues
But his issues won't end up killing him
Hers will
I know they say love is forever
But the midnight snacks are new

She wakes up every morning with a smile on her face
Goes to bed every night with tears on her cheeks
The world never lets her have a happy day
She takes a shower and goes to work
Wonders if she'll get to see him before she hates him
Or is it her love the world wants to take away
She worries he'll give up on her
That he'll leave like all the others did
I mean they have *** all the time what else do boys want
If you were going to leave why didn't you go earlier
You know I'll just **** my self when you do
So just go now so we can get it over with
I know they say **** is forever
But forever is just so **** long

The suicide threats aren't new
He may have left a year ago but he can't now
Not now that she means it
He lingers longer before locking the knife drawer
Every filleted fish is a potential slit wrist
Not that he wants to die it's that he wants to help
She's louder every time she yells
He wishes they were fighting that would be the only normal part of their relationship
I mean he loves her so **** much even that's not normal
Tonight will be the fourth candle lit dinner this week
He read somewhere the dim lighting should soothe her
She thinks he's just trying to be sweet
But it'll end the same they'll make passionate love
She'll take a shower that lasts just a little too long
And he'll spend that time plotting her cure
They say love lasts forever
He hopes his suicide will too

A broken hero walks through the streets of his home town
Home from a war he didn't understand
But was pretty **** good at fighting
He's got a slight limp and it's making
All the cracks in the sidewalks a little different
And every time he trips
He wishes he were back in the desert
His camouflage can't hide him here
His bullet proof vest can't protect him from piercing glances
And his gun won't stop the advance of the fear crawling through him
It won't stop the uncertainty closing in on him
For all the times he was in a fire fight
Shooting his gun into nothing  but the night
He never felt uncertain
You get shot at and you shoot back
It was never complicated
Your best friend dies
But you've taken enough best friends' lives that
It just seems logical
But here at home he can't take his safety off
He takes his gun apart
Hangs the different pieces on his wall
A modern art tribute to the dog tags he's yet to deliver to weeping widows
He's come home to a world he can't associate with
A family he can't share stories to
A job force that doesn't know what to do with him
Because they're not quite sure how you get a bachelor's degree in blowing **** up
Or how dodging bullets relates to crunching numbers
He's come home to a girlfriend who feels just guilty enough
To have *** with him for a few months before leaving him
For his best friend she's been with for years
And a G.I. Bill just big enough to drink his way through his thirties
Which will be just long enough to learn he can't drown the sounds of battle
Out with Busch pounders
That beer goggles don't work on memories
And that MRE's don't quite cut it for Thanksgiving dinners
He can't form any saliva in his perma-cotton mouth
So he seals envelopes with his tears
As he sends out the letters that were supposed to be just in case
But just in case turned out to be the case a little too often
He finds it unsettling that every time he goes out
He know he's coming home
He forgot to stop at red lights for weeks
And when he remembered he was supposed to
He still didn't stop
It's not that he wants to die
He just wants to know he still can
He wakes up too early for everybody else
Makes his bed, folds his socks, shines his boot
Eats breakfast, and watches the news talk about withdrawal
As he wipes the sleep from his eyes to prepare for the symptoms of his own
He sleeps on the floor till the Army Surplus Store
Delivers his cot
It's not that he doesn't want to be normal
It's that he forgot how
He's bought the plane tickets
But still doesn't know what to say
He knows they already know
But he has promises to keep
What can he say to the wives of men
That were stronger than him
How's he supposed to stay strong for them
When he wasn't strong enough to die with them
And once a year his home town holds a parade
In honor of the fallen veterans from the community
He keeps wondering why he has yet to be invited
Because the only thing keeping him alive is his heart beat
He's not offended
But he feels more at home at the cemetery
With the dead and buried
Than in the church next door
They morn them in
He wakes up at night in flop sweats
From nightmares of bullets lodged in his chest
That he's come to call
Dreams

I don't see heaven for what it is
I see it for what it fails to be
And it fails to be right here with me
So I put trust and faith in what I see
And I see more than your eyes
But nothing more beautiful
So I'll keep staring
While my heart keeps daring my body
To give something to you
To pass you a letter, to press send
To get down on my knees and plea
But there is nothing to see in me
Except for honesty and good company
And honestly we both know that's not enough
I don't see me for what I am
I see me for what I fail to be
And I fail to be right there
Where you are
Lying on your bed questioning heaven
Wondering what it is
Why you should put your faith in it
And my only dream is that you put your faith in what you can see
For you to put your faith in me
Whilst I continue to put my faith in you
Whether I am loved in return or not
Your eyes are still a better use of my time
Than striving for a heaven no man has seen

She's a tortured soul
In a privileged girl's world
It's hard for me to imagine
Not being able to justify my pain
In a world where there's not supposed to be any problems
That seems to be the problem
I'd be the first to throw a fit
If she ******* about the money she had
But we all forget
All the money in the world
Can't hug empty arms
Or catch a falling heart
She breaks like the rest of us
But fights through the pain
'Cause there's not supposed to be any problems
For a girl with her last name
Like Roger Clemens and his ****** sock
She marches on with a bleeding heart
She puts on fronts
Like little black dresses
It's as far as she can get
From where all the stress is
When she's not being herself
She's being what she is
Rich, white, and beautiful
Nothing wrong with that
Till you go home and turn off your lights
Your shadow can't tell you what color you are
Your 700 thread-count sheets forgot how to add
And your mirror's not working right tonight
All you're left with is the dark
And the pain in your heart
And we all know that's a deadly combination
Whether you live in a box
Or a mansion
Daemons still torture your thoughts
But just like Van Gogh and his missing ear
She marches on with haunted dreams
Yeah
She tried to shop her way out of this
One progressively lower top at a time
But it doesn't matter how **** you are
Or how many guys are looking at you
If he's not
There's no fooling yourself here
It was all for him to begin with
And so she finds another problem
Her daddy's credit card can't buy her out of
And the burden of her last name
Continues to weigh down her soul
Always working on herself
Learning languages, instruments, diets
Like she's out of Jane Austin's
Demented 1800's stock market
Just trying to raise her profit shares
Like a Kennedy and their legacy
She marches on underachieving royalty
Her therapist wishes he could prescribe her a bottle of wine
Knows sober she'll never give him the whole truth
But a word of warning
Once she starts she won't stop till she comes to
And it doesn't come out in a narrative either
So you have to sift through all the
I'm-fat's, the nobody-likes-me's, and the do-you-think-I'm-pretty's
But if you can do that
You'll get to the good stuff
To the he-hurt-me's, the I'm-lonely's, and the I'm-not-over-him's
The my-parent's-don't-approve's, the I-feel-abandon's, and the I'm-not-over-him's again
And if all that sounds familiar
It's because they're universal
Heart breaks don't check credit scores
Daemons don't need bank statements
You're never too rich to cry
Like Cinderella and her glass slipper
She marches on with a limp

Her halo is brightest in the dark
Something about the way the gold
Just reflects the lingering rays
Of a turned off light bulb

She can see into your soul
And know if your worth saving
Before you see it in yourself
To find a better way

She doesn't help people who already have help
She doesn't contribute to lost causes
She goes where the support groups wont
Finds the people who don't know they need help

In a room full of bullet holes
This angel keeps out the rain
In an arm full of track marks
This saint lets out the pain

She doesn't ask for permission
Doesn't look for those looking for help
Says if they're looking
They'll find it within themselves

Somewhere deep inside of her
God saw fit to come back to Earth
Shes a messiah without a gospel
A prophet without an agenda

She's not running for office
She's running from cops
She's not asking for donations
She's begging for change

This angel of mercy
Only survives because of it
This harbinger of love
Lives without it

The invisible hand slapped her in the face
And she kissed the blisters it gave him
God asked her to build an ark
She said,  “No, I can't afford it, but I'll fill it if it's there”

Under the star light her halo glows bright under the Burnside bridge
Her voice is the silence between discharging of shells
Her lullaby's to the villagers sounds like opening empty wallets
Her tears fall like shooting stars letting you make a wish every time she feels your pain

Moments
Like ordering two mochas
Just to watch you make them
Forgetting your name five times
Before getting your phone number
Wiping chocolate off your shirt
Trying unsuccessfully to flirt my way
Out of spilling on you
Little moments
Like finally having the guts to ask you out
Running to the coffee shop full speed
Just to find out it was your day off
Sulking my way through my third cup of tea
Cursing the fates for their insolence
Right until you walked in to cover someone else's shift
And running out too scared again
Little moments like those
Remind me why I fight through
Big times like these
Little moments
Like driving over the mountains
To get to the first big storm
Just to be the first ones to kiss in the rain
After the summer sun chapped our lips so long
We forgot the taste of our kiss
Little moments
Like the first time I took you out in heels
And you spent the whole night
Whispering to yourself about not falling
Right up until I fell twice
Down a flight of stairs
And for you
Little moments
Like you running over to pick my head up
Off the concrete
Staring at me with this look
That made me want to ask you if you were okay
Little moments
Like that remind me
That the big times like these
Are worth fighting for
That the big fights like these
Are worth ending
If only for the shot to have one more
Little moment
Like
A movie perfect scene in the snow
With snow ball fights, snow angels
And a snow man with coal for buttons
Eyes, mouth, sticks for arms and a scarf
But we didn't have a carrot
So you ran upstairs, broke off one of your heels
And called him Stalleto-face for a week
Little moments
Like
Burning three attempts at chicken cord en bleu
And begging the old woman on the phone
To put in one more order before they closed
And tipping $100 just to have the chance
To eat midnight fried rice on the living room floor
Because the table was full of
Foiled attempts at cooking
Little moments
Like those
So dear to me
Remind me there is no fight too big
To give up little moments with you

I fell for you
Under the stars of a cloudless night
A night the big dipper shone so bright
You could see the water spilling out of it
Falling into the little dipper
Then over flowing into our hearts
I fell for you

I fell for you
Under the soft glow of a distant street light
As we swayed on swings
And I watched the rays of light
Play hide-and-seek with your skin
Trying to catch you still enough
So it could glow you like an angel
I fell for you

I learned of you
Through back channel grape vines
And locker door vents
Four AM phone calls that left crickets jealous
Listening to our heavy breaths of in love dreams
Pass through the receivers
I learned of you

I learned of you
Through tears that might as well have been daggers
Stabbing my heart
As I wrestled your secrets from the back of your mind
Through your tear ducts
And kidnapped your true feelings
In body bags from the bottom of your heart
I learned of you

I stayed with you
When learning wasn’t fun anymore
But our hearts weren’t settled in
And the comfort of silence
Fell to the wayside of sin
And your brain made your heart feel used
And your heart made your body feel abused
And your body made my heart feel abused
I stayed with you

I stayed with you
When stars were no longer visible
Drowned out by city lights
And crickets were silenced in fear
By the sounds we made at night
And surprises and picnics
Were just apologies
And our song was just a reminder
Of what I forgot about you
I stayed with you

I fell for you
Down a flight of stairs on a rainy night
When our lips didn’t mind the company
Of staring eyes
And your ferruled eye brows
Reminded the big dipper how to shine
I fell for you

I fell for you
Barefoot in sand the sun shining down
On a comfortable day in June
Which came so soon the sun hadn’t left his mark
On our left ring fingers yet
The waves from the ocean weren’t crashing the rocks
Letting the priest preach his sermon in peace
Whose words we couldn’t hear
Staring straight into your eyes
I fell for you

I fell for you

I take pleasure in the simple things
And I know a lot of people say that
But I think a lot of people get carried away
With the idea of getting carried away
They watch movies for the special effects
Go to baseball games for the big names
And watch trains go by for the wrecks
But I take pleasure in the simple things
The other day I paced in the rain
It was summer so the warm water
Reminded me of growing up in Shanghai
Where the chemical rain would burn when it touched you
And that's a happy memory for me
I watch movies for the kisses
The Humphrey Bogart
Reach out and kiss the crap out of them kisses
The Ingrid Bergman sly, seductive kisses
The Audrey Hepburn innocent, eyes closed kisses
I go to baseball games to smell the air
Little league games, high school games,
Minor league games, professional games
It doesn't matter they all smell like dirt and leather
I like to walk by freshly mowed lawns
Because it reminds me of when I was younger
And played soccer every Saturday morning
On just cut grass
I love, love, love to watch little kids run in circles
For absolutely no reason at all
I take pleasure in the simple things
I think too often people
Try to measure the was of each day
Against the could be of every dream
Forgetting that we don't ask our dreams
To accomplish themselves between 9-5
Some people get caught up in
Trying to live their life
Like it was a scene from a dream
They drempt while they slept last night
And though sometimes life can seem like a movie
We are not producers or directors
Merely actors following our lines
Trying to feel out someone else's vision
So I find pleasure in the simple things
The parts no producer could control
The lines that aren't in the script
The prettiest rose on my bike ride home
Warm Rain
Dirt
Leather
Cut grass, little kids, and puppy dogs
Because if we limit the pleasure we find
To the greatest moments in our lives
We're never going to believe it's happening when it is
Always dreaming there could be more to our life then there is
And when we do finally believe
The only chance we'll have to smile
Will be at a memory
And we'll miss all the beauty and pleasure
The world and life
Has put in front of you and me

It's like a blind man leading a poor man
He sees the cliff coming but he doesn't mind
Grateful to have company on the way down
Thinks the cloud they'll fall through will be silver lined

It's like the teenager who just gave birth to a still born accident
It hurts real bad inside
But she's grateful that if she returns all the diapers everybody bought her
She might have enough money to buy a prom dress
Thinks the pain she feels will be silver lined

It's like the boyfriend of the young girl who just gave birth to the still born child
Grabs his cleats out the closet
Grateful he still has time to get a college scholarship
Dumped her over the phone
Said he didn't like the way her ***** *** whined
Thinks adding another drop to the bucket of pain he will never feel is silver lined

It's like a young man who works at a gas station
With dreams so big he'd have to run the world to accomplish them
Grows up, gets marrieds, gets settled, and settles
Knows the only way he'll make the TV is by beating his wife
Grateful that strangers know who he is
Thinks the jail time he's serving is silver lined

It's like the grown man who has everything the boy at the gas station ever wanted
Doesn't want it, wishes he could give it back, but can't
So he buys houses, clothes, and Cadillacs
Grateful to have enough
Thinks the silver lining on his silver Cadi is silver lined

It's like the overwhelmed twenty something year old who puts a lock on her own knife drawer
Too proud to get help
Grateful that she has a boyfriend willing to take the brunt
Of all the problems she can't see past
Thinks the inconvenience of the knife drawer is silver lined

It's like the boyfriend of the overwhelmed twenty something year old
Who takes the brunt of all the problems she can't see past
Grateful he has a key to the knife drawer
Thinks the blood on the floor will be enough
To show her there's more to the world than the problems she can't see past
Thinks his mama's heartache will be silver lined

It's like the staunch republican who got laid off last year
Now he's so broke he's on unemployment, food stamps, and TANF
Grateful the democrats were in control during the great depression
Still voted for John McCain
Thinks the bumper sticker on the back of his car is silver lined

It's like the young family started by a couple kids
Who insisted on having a couple of their own
Now they're too poor to afford but too rich for assistance
Begging their government to bail them out of something that nursery rhymes got them into
Grateful their truck didn't break down again this month
Thinking raising hungry babies is silver lined

It's like a poor man leading a blind man
Who knows the cliff is coming
Knows they're going over and doesn't really mind
Grateful to finally be in the company of someone just as blind as he is
Thinking the cloud they'll fall through is silver lined.

She sat on a park bench crying at the moon
Because that's what wolves do
And wolves were a lot closer to her than family
He lied under a park bench
And spoke to the ants
Because ants were more like friends than any friends he'd ever had
And once upon a time
These two were children full of innocence
Full of vigor and life ready for anything
Like anything was the everything they did everyday
And this is an ode to lost innocence
But I'm not sure he's lost
We may have just forgotten where to find him
Or maybe he forgot where he lives
And right now he's wandering the streets
Finding refuge in anyone willing to dream when the sun is out
Our children are seeing things like they live in the third world
They're spending their days providing
For families their fathers left them
Watching gun shots count for the census
Seeing thriving turn in to surviving
And surviving turning in to not even worth it anymore
Our mothers can't afford gifts for Christmas
And sometimes they can't even buy their kids imagination for breakfast
We have kids knowing their **** hands
Before their clock hands
Surprising their math teachers
With their extraordinary knowledge of ounces and grams
Innocence has been gone for a while
So I put up missing posters on the same telephone poles
Those once innocent children sell themselves on
I place fliers in the newspapers
The teenagers are rolling their **** in
I'm searching for him everywhere
And I'm starting to believe he's nowhere
Then I see an old man
Who's been through his share of this war
Looking at a painting with eyes I once had
Admiring the image, not the brush strokes
Loving the feeling it provokes
Not the conflict it's trying to resolve
And I see in him the innocence that's lost
But it doesn't stay long
His cell phone rings and he hunches over
As if no matter who it is, it's the real world
And the weight of that is crushing him
So I crawl under the same park bench
And pray to the same moon
The young woman cried to
And I ask the man in the moon to save us
To use his huge eyes to find the innocence
And put it back in talking to ants
And howling at the moon
Convince them to leave the straight jackets
In empty padded rooms
And let the children we were
We are
We never got the chance to be
Run free
This is an ode to lost innocence
To lighters and cigarettes in the lost and found
To Anti Depressants in the nurses office
And Ex-Lax in the girls bathroom
They used to have four square and hopscotch courts
Now the only chalk on sidewalks is outlining a corpse
Explaining to our kids about pregnancy and STD's
Before we teach them the infield fly rule
This is an ode to the innocence that ran away
Because maybe he's not lost at all
Maybe he's just sick and tired of being ripped out of people
Of being ***** out of young girls
Beaten out of young children
Shot out of young boys
Maybe innocence just got tired of being taken for granted
About not being loved like poets used to love him
You don't see his name in too many hip hop songs
And I haven't heard a poem in a while to call his praise
Maybe he left to go try and find somewhere
He can be loved like he used to be
He could be courting aliens
Or wooing dolphins
Because it's clear we don't care about him anymore
That innocence got lost without us noticing
So why would we notice if he came back
So why should he come back
This is an ode innocence's last name
Children
This is an ode to lost innocence
The cops came and took her away
And before her head was tucked into the car
She howled one last time at the moon
And from my balcony as loud as my lungs could let me
I howled back
And the next day I crawled under a park bench and talked to ants
A week later I found myself howling at the moon
Because it seemed the whole block
Caught a case of insomnia the day they arrested the wolf lady
This is an ode to lost innocence
Please come home, our children need you