This is my suicide note
To all my friends and loved ones
How can I explain my sorrow?
But in my heart I knew this was the only level of control I still had

The moment to moment
The day breaks softly over the heart of immediacy
And so it goes as I slipped into the past
I could not take it any longer

But I could take that feeling
The gentle push of sanity
Faith in choice and reason
If only I could take that still

So say goodbye to everything you knew before
Say goodbye to listless seas
of calamitous ennui
The devil set my course

And pardon my lack
Of ponderous ambition
And slight of hand
Because I was never a very good card player

So come clever little witticisms
That sum up life on a dime
Because they make it so much easier
Than knowing the ugliest truth

Of the eternal empty knowledge
Born through beyond doubt
Through painfully obvious vision
Religious in its scope

Oh and did I mention that I’m not dead yet
The ***** ridden down, shallow then steep
And petering out at the end
To a third act in a hospital room, Nostalgic and satisfied

So here it is
My note for the loved ones
The ones who could not save me from myself
From a fate decided long ago

Around the Time when the Drinkers come out
And the homeless start setting up their cardboard for night
When kids talk loudly on the train going for parties
And the rest just Grim and Bear the commute home
All the Soldiers and the Workers of the Ant Farm go to the holes growing mold
Unseen but necessary for the Queen
Those throng and quiet desperation lives
Of plain gum Globules on pavement
A sigh
And a downward glance
With the slight smell of Chinese food
Such is modernity…

I watched the best minds of my generation sit and watch jersey shore
         on a Monday night high on cough syrup
         Contemplating hyphy at dawn
         In fear of the day they would break
         With tall teas and idiosyncrasies of language
         So profound as to make all but the most imbued  
         confounded
Who were busted ***** deep in under aged **** Bleeding
         on the locker room floors in the shade
         and hallways of eager decadence
         and busted again three years later
         in ancient palaces at Hanover
Who rolled on the floor in ecstasy giggling at the shapes
         Floating listlessly in a dream down the ski slopes of Rutland
         With out feeling in the face or hands, they laid down in the white
         Light of daybreak on the rooftops of yesterday
Who made YouTube videos getting ****** up the ***
         By black ***** and loving it with a wide grin
         Shamelessly braying and bucking in the languor
         and persistent fickle protest for want of identity
Who punched each other in the face with boxing gloves
         Because they never knew pain or love
         Drinking the backwashed dregs of glasses
         And smoking cigarette butts on midnight
         Soccer fields
Who saw the perspectives reverse and shorten only to lengthen again
         And then tried to explain their visions of foxes
         To angle-haired exuberant Norwegian pranksters
Who wondered what the meaning was while drunk on plastic *****
         Sitting on carpet with the lights out in the smell of socks
Who smashed stolen mugs against sheet rock walls leaving marks
         And left their lives for the machine shops of west Texas
         Only to return to Alabama in a drunken blur for more
Who jacked off during French classes on the hill and sold drugs
         To snitches for outrageous prices
Who begged for mercy from men and women less than them
        From fear of the dreaded blacked pock marked record
Who stole whole rows of over the counter drugs for a cheap high
         On Saturdays during winter months of seasonal depression
Who lived and loved more than they even knew before child days
         Ended and adult games began
         Only ever wanting truth and purity
         and sincerity
in sublime ether lights never quite understood

She was so beautiful
And like a rose
She had thorns
And like a dagger
She pierced my heart
My soul
My sand of time
Vial dropping sand grain by grain
And oh the pain
Plain in the rain
I saw her
And like a stain
On my life
I now live in strife
For the loss of my wife

And sweet melodies sung by the greatest church choirs
the greatest castratos
could not compare
to the love we had there
it was but a bright flare
burnt right
in the shadows of night

and you you you
you were so you
and the slew of oooohoooh
was it true?

Ack cough
I can’t go on
Make me poem of the day
Please…

Aahhh the crushing ends of postmodernism
the impermeable coffee filter
selling jacked post existentialism
with innocuous novel filler
on the doorstep of Burroughs
or Joyce and Sartre
eyebrows furrowed
and chin resting in hand
looking for lost art
and coming up with grains of sand
in the boring blasts of a mind trapped in plaster cast
with solecism to guide the trembling hand
and wrinkled ****  vulgarity
language is the dullest knife
I have ever cut myself with

Profound things screaming at insanity
These words have no meaning
My mind breaks
Unable to even move
In catatonic despair
And  then…
when my eyes are tired and my soul is a worn husk
Awake at three in the morning watching videos of steel drummers
On the tired ends of some desperate baffling nightmare
The same motifs recurring endlessly over and over
Recursively storming through the gallows and nether winds of some unmentionable quivering fury
And at the precise moment where all Is lost and all is at your finger tips
the words poured out like buckets of rainwater on the side walks of the throng trembling masses
a primeval cro-magnon scumbag alive and well with a post modern kick
a lone star cupid with nothing to win
the bop kebab pop cabala flanks me at every turn
and the Jesus lizard shrinks beneath the weight of crushing globalism
as the world sits back and laughs

Words and words and lethargy
Languor and ennui
Writing to pretend to write
Pretending to pretend to be the master
But pretending to be is how we be
And in me being me I am always free
To pretend to be
So you see the sea of ennui
That was me
Or is me
Is only me pretending to be
Ennui
From fear you see
Of finding me
In the depth and sea
of to Be