iwishiwasdeadsoicouldntthinkanymore

i want to kiss her. not because i want to feel the softness of her fair lips or the warmth of her breath as she exhales against me. i want to kiss her because i can’t think of any other way to fully express the beauty that she is. i want her to know that i see her as perfect. that she is perfect.
- bzq

don't feel sorry for me.
I am a competent,
satisfied human being.

be sorry for the others
who
fidget
complain

who
constantly
rearrange their
lives
like
furniture.

juggling mates
and
attitudes

their
confusion is
constant

and it will
touch
whoever they
deal with.

beware of them:
one of their
key words is
"love."

and beware those who
only take
instructions from their
God

for they have
failed completely to live their own
lives.

don't feel sorry for me
because I am alone

for even
at the most terrible
moments
humor
is my
companion.

I am a dog walking
backwards

I am a broken
banjo

I am a telephone wire
strung up in
Toledo, Ohio

I am a man
eating a meal
this night
in the month of
September.

put your sympathy
aside.
they say
water held up
Christ:
to come
through
you better be
nearly as
lucky.

the lady has me temporarily off the bottle
and now the pecker stands up
better.
however, things change overnight--
instead of listening to Shostakovich and
Mozart through a smeared haze of smoke
the nights change, new
complexities:
we drive to Baskin-Robbins,
31 flavors:
Rocky Road, Bubble Gum, Apricot Ice, Strawberry
Cheesecake, Chocolate Mint...

we park outside and look at icecream
people
a very healthy and satisfied people,
nary a potential suicide in sight
(they probably even vote)
and I tell her
"what if the boys saw me go in there? suppose they
find out I'm going in for a walnut peach sundae?"
"come on, chicken," she laughs and we go in
and stand with the icecream people.
none of them are cursing or threatening
the clerks.
there seem to be no hangovers or
grievances.
I am alarmed at the placid and calm wave
that flows about. I feel like a ***** in a
beauty contest. we finally get our sundaes and
sit in the car and eat them.

I must admit they are quite good. a curious new
world. (all my friends tell me I am looking
better. "you're looking good, man, we thought you
were going to die there for a while...")
--those 4,500 dark nights, the jails, the
hospitals...

and later that night
there is use for the pecker, use for
love, and it is glorious,
long and true,
and afterwards we speak of easy things;
our heads by the open window with the moonlight
looking through, we sleep in each other's
arms.

the icecream people make me feel good,
inside and out.

When you take your first steps on that far distant shore
You might be hesitant,  nervous and wont travel very far
But people there will welcome you with warmth and open arms
So look at poetry as your way to open wide the door
And let this become one more step on another distant shore
No one here will mock you or cover you in scorn
If you hesitate to wander round new streets in early morn
Language is no barrier to want you want to do
Because poetry is our language so we will understand you
And so as the number of stamps in your passport grow you might become the one
To hold wide the door for the new and nervous poet first on a distant shore

The stars could be flipped inside out and you could read the wrong part of the newspaper and you'd still laugh at your horoscope or cut it out and show it to someone you love

And everybody hates country music and everybody is sorta quiet when you first get to know them but opens up and is crazy once they get to know you

You might think someone's hot from across the room and if you end up marrying each other it's love at first sight and if he or she is a total **** it's just a coinkeydink

And everyone in the ******* world hates the word coinkeydink

Drinking coffee or tea and liking books doesn't make you a one of a kind human being any more than being able to hold your breath for a minute does

But I still love you because you are special,
just like everybody else.

Crude and ****** words are for the crude and ****** birds
As I ****, ****, ****, and otherwise defecate on everything that ever mattered to you or I

Clever sweat beads cascade off the forehead of someone far more important than I
And the cleverest of intentions leave the cleaverest wounds in the forethoughts of those who I care for

Nevermind you or I, or the fact that these words have yet to grace the thought-o-sphere,
let us be, let us me
Let us remember who we tried to aren't.

Insecurities be ******,
I have words.