I’m too short

No I’m too tall

My nose is too wide

My eyes are too small

My cheekbones are too high

My lips are too thin

Yet it’s not about looks

It’s what’s within?

Well I don’t believe that

I’m not stupid

If I looked differently

I wouldn’t need Cupid

Alas you only can realize

That I look remotely cute

Is right before I dive

In my swimsuit

But even then

You want it all

And my forehead’s much too high

And my eyes too small

i am not whole.

my palms
have melted away. flesh
forever bonded to your burning skin.

my lips
are gone. i left them against yours;
they couldn’t bear to come away with me.

my elbows
can’t work. they are too crooked.
stuck around the shape of your shoulders,
an empty hollow only you could fill.

(and with each stroke of your fingers down my back my skin tore away like tissue paper clinging to your static touch so it would never fade away)

my hips
move awkwardly now. they lack
your hips and hands to steer them.
they are confused and broken.

my tongue
***** uselessly. scorched by your taste.
numb to every flavor.

my eyes
wheel pointlessly in their sockets
haunted by your laughing face.

(and when you locked your fingers between mine oh! my poor fingers! they snapped off just to stay a while)

here i am. the rest of me.
some old shredded pile of skin and black bone.
tears dripping silently in gaping pathetic mouth.

(i said “now don’t you let me leave” and you didn’t, you have me still)

i need my pieces back
(i need you)

I walk quickly across the dream
imaginations are cold
a cry of anger and wrath
piercing the ears of followers
blood smears over the crying faces
The only advice is to be quick.

shivers of fear cross the darkness
shadows creep and stalk you
precisely tipping soon to fall
under the stare of a demon
the only way you wont get caught in their stare
is if you are quick.

death is now in the air
hold your place
children cry
mothers scream
the horror is almost here
hiding in every corner
creeping in every soul
just be quick
and maybe you will survive.

I found God naked in a bathroom stall
Writing my epilogue by running his fingers
Through the dried tobacco spit on the wall
Embarrassed by his nakedness
And in an effort to save his grace
Drinking his last swell of coffee
And choking up the dregs
With a gesture fit for a trucker's romance
He wiped his nose with his hand
And offered a shake fit for a ticket taker

"Its nice to finally meet the man
That made me feel afraid to die"

Tattoo-ed taboo-ed  gifts
decade old protective health warnings!

Different, no one else
life moulding - and moulded
wildly festive no longer?

Sometimes called nice, **** nice
drifting, a breeze of my own
walking wary with acceptance

Yet more hurt expected

The electronic world beckons
I lose myself in words
becoming just a little poetic

Hibernating - asked to play a role
to be tossed in a maelstrom
do I  smile and risk it

Inside drunken reputation, you find me
surprisingly centred, sober and yours
you trust and love

The *** is great - as are you!



.

American city, your roads make me gasp,
Hold my breath with cancerous anxiety.

Your sidewalks,
Ancient ruins of time passed: A failed optimism for Utopian desire:
A house, a yard, a car for every person.

Now derelict, termite infested, but rented.
Chlorinated chemical water runs through rusted, moldy spickets to
Rinse pesticide seasoned vegetables.
And yet they remain so tasteless.

But who cares?
Suburban middle class zombies?
Created with media placed propaganda.
Born and inoculated with DisneypepsiMccocacola ideologies.

Oh Wal-Mart,
how we love your homogenized Chinese products.
Oh America,
how we love your multi-million dollar cathartic films,
They bring my mind to no place and inspire nothing.

Your theme park inspired retail caters to any identity I desire:
I am a professional,
My wallet lined with the best credit cards,
SUV, Hummer, Super boat, designer label, mall bought,
bleached teeth smile, with slick greasy hair style.

I'm cool, I pay for the gas.
Beep your horn, and rev your engine.
We are at war with each other.
Everyone get out of my way: road rage lifestyle: compete or die.

Big screen television dream.
Bought it at Target.

Open my cupboard: Macaroni and Cheese, delicious.
Ambian, Prozac, antibiotic, Listerine.

Collagen bovine beauty:
Manicure, pedicure, dye and wax

Acrylic nails, hair extensions
And silicone sacs.

Oh, American city
How we want to steal your money and **** your blood.
Chop your trees and cement your grass.
American city you are dead.