I've lost another dear friend,
Another kindred spirit,
To the culling of this worsening
****** epidemic.

No more new poems
Waiting in my inbox.
No more just checking in.
No more redemption.

Just another empty hole
Pierced through our lives
Taken by the tip
Of a needle.

All the delayed flights and missed connections everywhere.
Making connections, breaking connections.
A design against futility, still the wind.

Kitchens I cooked in, trains I used to catch.

All the nights I've set awake, martyred on some kind of watch.
Taking directions, obeying erections.
A design against senility, still the mind.

Kittens I took in, dogs I once played fetch.

All the dreams of the past's futures have lapsed and are dying.
Failing selection, without objection.
A design against responsibility, still the road.

Cars I once drove in, land in one long stretch.

All the roads and all the cities are being rebuilt and crumbling.
Urban renewal, urban decay.
A design against anarchy, still the man.

Careers I worked in, living in one breath.

All the ends of all the tales and all the heroes found their death.
Poetic justice, blind justice.
A design against God, still the law.

Courts I appeared in, lawyer's corpse like stench.

All the trees in all the hard places in between know what I mean.
Natural selection, might is right.
A design against Nature, still the way.

Cartoons I once drew, laughing with my friends.

What round is this anyway?
Somewhere in my subconscious
I heard the bell ring
signalling a new one.
Now my ears ring.
Equilibrium disoriented
while I search for my footing.
Skinned from glancing blows
and bruised from taking solid punches.

Back when I was a desert hermit
I decided to step back in the ring.
I guess my fight wasn't over
like I thought it was,
like I hoped it was.
I didn't have the heart
to drown myself in whiskey
or pull the trigger.

So here I am again
facing down a capitalist bull dog
and I'm the junkyard dog,
the stray dog,
shaved bare to hide the mange.
My ears got holes in 'em,
my flesh marred.
My eyes are barely there,
but I'm still here,
passing up scraps
going for the bigger meat.

My ribs show,
shoulder blades sharp
as the knife I wear
and cannot bear
to be separated with.
My teeth are discolored,
gums rolled back
like my lips in a snarl,
but they still cut.
I can still land a killing blow
against this raging,
'roided up beast.

I swallow depression,
along with blood
and caffeine.
I close one eye
against double vision,
spit out bile
and charge back in.
I can still win this fight,
can still earn my place.
I'm here to stay,
no matter how many times
you cast me away.

I'm going to paint
my wild energy
rippling across the sky,
tearing from the crown
of my Kundalini.

I'm going to paint
my eyes white,
opaque,
to show they are
unseeing.

I'm going to paint
my heart gray,
the color of old
rancid,
ground up meat.

I'm going to paint
my genitals green,
like money,
like sickness
and envy.

I'm going to paint
everything black,
everything black,
the darkness of
my feeling.

I'm going to paint
the sheets red,
the walls red,
and my brain
across the ceiling.

Our feet tread the same ground,
our lungs breathe the same air.
Yet, my suspicions are mounting
of a disparity between our realities.

To you I'm barely here,
to me you're barely there.
If we should chance to meet
"Long time, no see!"

Then lean in to embrace
and solidify our greeting,
we'd pass straight through
with barely a feeling.

"Well, take care!"
Then it's over,
impersonal
and so fleeting.

"Goodbye."
"I'll see you again."
on the other side,
my dear friend.

I feel like I'm betraying you all
when I say I'm gonna stay,
then I start packing anyway
and backing out the door.

How can I explain this?
The pain in my heart won't quit,
mind caving in on itself,
and no one liked me extroverted.

No one liked my stories,
all the people, the places
I went without you.
How would I feel if it was you.

No one wants to think,
you might have had it better
than they did.
who can blame them?

Better to keep it in,
to keep on packing,
to keep on backing,
out that door again.

(Dad returned this to me tonight, apparently I wrote it in the 90s and he found it and saved it for almost 20 years)

Love hides in the moon,
Where lies and deceit hide too.
But you don't want what you got,
'Cause I'm just an astronaut.
God hides in the manic eyes
Of the maniacs you despise.
And if I'm just a man on the moon
Well then I'm still part of you.
If it will take a tragedy,
For you to see the truth,
Then I just hope I'm still here for you.
All things are fleeting,
And soon I'll be gone.
Gone sailing on ethereal seas
Of forgotten songs.
Joking 'bout my wrongs
With time's tides of traitorous throngs.
Laughing while the ones I love
Chase Maltese Falcons,
And society sinks shaking in withdrawal
From the loss of knowledge
That god is eminent
Throughout the body of existence.